Title: History of Friedrich II of Prussia — Volume 13
Author: Carlyle, Thomas, 1795-1881
Language: English
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HISTORY OF FRIEDRICH II. OF PRUSSIA

FREDERICK THE GREAT

by Thomas Carlyle

Volume XIII.



BOOK XIII. -- FIRST SILESIAN WAR, LEAVING THE GENERAL EUROPEAN ONE
ABLAZE ALL ROUND, GETS ENDED. -- May, 1741-July, 1742.



Chapter I. -- BRITANNIC MAJESTY AS PALADIN OF THE PRAGMATIC.

Part First of his Britannic Majesty's Sorrows, the Britannic or Domestic
Part, is now perhaps conceivable to readers. But as to the Second,
the Germanic or Pragmatic Part,--articulate History, after much
consideration, is content to renounce attempting these; feels that these
will remain forever inconceivable to mankind in the now altered times.
So small a gentleman; and he feels, dismally though with heroism, that
he has got the axis of the world on his shoulder. Poor Majesty! His
eyes, proud as Jove's, are nothing like so perspicacious; a pair of the
poorest eyes: and he has to scan with them, and unriddle under pain of
death, such a waste of insoluble intricacies, troubles and world-perils
as seldom was,--even in Dreams. In fact, it is of the nature of a long
Nightmare Dream, all this of the Pragmatic, to his poor Majesty and
Nation; and wakeful History must not spend herself upon it, beyond the
essential.

May 12th, betimes this Year, his Majesty got across to Hanover,
Harrington with him; anxious to contemplate near at hand that Camp of
the Old Dessauer's at Gottin, and the other fearful phenomena, French,
Prussian and other, in that Country. His Majesty, as natural, was much
in Germany in those Years; scanning the phenomena; a long while not
knowing what in the world to make of them. Bully Belleisle having stept
into the ring, it is evident, clear as the sun, that one must act, and
act at once; but it is a perfect sphinx-enigma to say How. Seldom
was Sovereign or man so spurred, and goaded on, by the highest
considerations; and then so held down, and chained to his place, by an
imbroglio of counter-considerations and sphinx-riddles! Thrice over, at
different dates (which shall be given), the first of them this Year, he
starts up as in spasm, determined to draw sword, and plunge in; twice
he is crushed down again, with sword half drawn; and only the third time
(in 1743) does he get sword out, and brandish it in a surprising though
useless manner. After which he feels better. But up to that crisis, his
case is really tragical,--had idle readers any bowels for him; which
they have not! One or two Fractions, snatched from the circumambient
Paper Vortex, must suffice us for the indispensable in this place:--



CUNCTATIONS, YET INCESSANT AND UBIQUITOUS ENDEAVORINGS, OF HIS BRITANNIC
MAJESTY (1741-1743).

... After the wonderful Russian Partition-Treaty, which his English
Walpoles would not hear of,--and which has produced the Camp of Gottin,
see, your Majesty!--George does nothing rashly. Far from it: indeed,
except it be paying money, he becomes again a miracle of cunctations;
and staggers about for years to come, like the--Shall we say, like the
White Hanover Horse amid half a dozen sieves of beans? Alas, no, like
the Hanover Horse with the shadows of half a dozen Damocles'-swords
dangling into the eyes of it;--enough to drive any Horse to its wit's
end!--

"To do, to dare," thinks the Britannic Majesty;--yes, and of daring
there is a plenty: but, "In which direction? What, How?" these are
questions for a fussy little gentleman called to take the world on
his shoulders. We suppose it was by Walpole's advice that he gave her
Hungarian Majesty that 200,000 pounds of Secret-Service Money;--advice
sufficiently Walpolean: "Russian Partition-Treaties; horrible to think
of;--beware of these again! Give her Majesty that cash; can be done;
it will keep matters afloat, and spoil nothing!" That, till the late
Subsidy payable within year and day hence, was all of tangible his
Majesty had yet done;--truly that is all her Hungarian Majesty has yet
got by hawking the world, Pragmatic Sanction in hand. And if that were
the bit of generosity which enabled Neipperg to climb the Mountains and
be beaten at Mollwitz, that has helped little! Very big generosities, to
a frightful cipher of Millions Sterling through the coming years, will
go the same road; and amount also to zero, even for the receiving party,
not to speak of the giving! For men and kings are wise creatures.

But wise or unwise, how great are his Britannic Majesty's activities
in this Pragmatic Business! We may say, they are prodigious, incessant,
ubiquitous. They are forgotten now, fallen wholly to the spiders and
the dust-bins;--though Friedrich himself was not a busier King in those
days, if perhaps a better directed. It is a thing wonderful to us, but
sorrowful and undeniable. We perceive the Britannic Majesty's own little
mind pulsing with this Pragmatic Matter, as the biggest volcano would
do;--shooting forth dust and smoke (subsidies, diplomatic emissaries,
treaties, offers of treaty, plans, foolish futile exertions), at an
immense rate. When the Celestial Balances are canting, a man ought
to exert himself. But as to this of saving the House of Austria from
France,--surely, your Britannic Majesty, the shortest way to that, if
that is so indispensable, were: That the House of Austria should consent
to give up its stolen goods, better late than never; and to make this
King of Prussia its friend, as he offers to be! Joined with this King,
it would manage to give account of France and its balloon projects, by
and by. Could your Britannic Majesty but take Mr. Viner's hint; and,
in the interim, mind your OWN business!--His Britannic Majesty intends
immediate fighting; and, both in England and Hanover, is making
preparation loud and great. Nay, he will in his own person fight, if
necessary, and rather likes the thought of it: he saw Oudenarde in his
young days; and, I am told, traces in himself a talent for Generalship.
Were the Britannic Majesty to draw his own puissant sword!-His own
puissant purse he has already drawn; and is subsidizing to right and
left; knocking at all doors with money in hand, and the question, "Any
fighting done here?" In England itself there goes on much drilling,
enlisting; camping, proposing to camp; which is noisy enough in the
British Newspapers, much more in the Foreign. One actual Camp there was
"on Lexden Heath near Colchester," from May till October of this 1741,
[Manifold but insignificant details about it, in the old Newspapers of
those Months.]--Camp waiting always to be shipped across to the scene
of action, but never was:--this actual Camp, and several imaginary ones
here, which were alarming to the Continental Gazetteer. In England his
Majesty is busy that way; still more among his Hanoverians, now under
his own royal eye; and among his Danes and Hessians, whom he has
now brought over into Hanover, to combine with the others. Danes and
Hessians, 6,000 of each kind, he for some time keeps back in stall, upon
subsidy, ready for such an occasion. Their "Camp at Hameln," "Camp at
Nienburg" (will, with the Hanoverians, be 30,000 odd); their swashing
and blaring about, intending to encamp at Hameln, at Nienburg, and other
places, but never doing it, or doing it with any result: this, with the
alarming English Camps at Lexden and in Dreamland, which also were void
of practical issue, filled Europe with rumor this Summer.--Eager enough
to fight; a noble martial ardor in our little Hercules-Atlas! But there
lie such enormous difficulties on the threshold; especially these Two,
which are insuperable or nearly so.

Difficulty FIRST, is that of the laggard Dutch; a People apt to be heavy
in the stern-works. They are quite languid about Pragmatic Sanction,
these Dutch; they answer his Britannic Majesty's enthusiasm with an
obese torpidity; and hope always they will drift through, in some way;
buoyant in their own fat, well ballasted astern; and not need such
swimming for life. "What a laggard notion," thinks his Majesty; "notion
in ten pair of breeches, so to speak!" This stirring up of the Dutch,
which lasts year on year, and almost beats Lord Stair, Lord Carteret,
and our chief Artists, is itself a thing like few! One of his Britannic
Majesty's great difficulties;--insuperable he never could admit it to
be. "Surely you are a Sea-Power, ye valiant Dutch; the OTHER Sea-Power?
Bound by Barrier Treaty, Treaty of Vienna, and Law of Nature itself, to
rise with us against the fatal designs of France; fatal to your Dutch
Barrier, first of all; if the Liberties of Mankind were indifferent
to you! How is it that you will not?" The Dutch cannot say how. France
rocks them in security, by oily-mouthed Diplomatists, Fenelon and
others: "Would not touch a stone of your Barrier, for the world, ye
admirable Dutch neighbors: on our honor, thrice and four times, No!"
They have an eloquent Van Hoey of their own at Paris; renowned in
Newspapers: "Nothing but friendship here!" reports Van Hoey always;
and the Dutch answer his Britannic Majesty: "Hm, rise? Well then, if we
must!"--but sit always still.

Nowhere in Political Mechanics have I seen such a Problem as this
of hoisting to their feet the heavy-bottomed Dutch. The cunningest
leverage, every sort of Diplomatic block-and-tackle, Carteret and Stair
themselves running over to help in critical seasons, is applied; to
almost no purpose. Pull long, pull strong, pull all together,--see, the
heavy Dutch do stir; some four inches of daylight fairly visible below
them: bear a hand, oh, bear a hand!--Pooh, the Dutch flap down again, as
low as ever. As low,--unless (by Diplomatic art) you have WEDGED them at
the four inches higher; which, after the first time or two, is generally
done. At the long last, partially in 1743 (upon which his Britannic
Majesty drew sword), completely in 1747, the Dutch were got to their
feet;--unfortunately good for nothing when they were! Without them his
Britannic Majesty durst not venture. Hidden in those dust-bins, there
is nothing so absurd, or which would be so wearisome, did it not at last
become slightly ludicrous, as this of hoisting the Dutch.

Difficulty SECOND, which in enormity of magnitude might be reckoned
first, as in order of time it ranks both first and last, is: The case
of dear Hanover; case involved in mere insolubilities. Our own dear
Hanover, which (were there nothing more in it) is liable, from that Camp
at Gottin, to be slit in pieces at a moment's warning! No drawing sword
against a nefarious Prussia, on those terms. The Camp at Gottin holds
George in checkmate. And then finally, in this same Autumn, 1741, when
a Maillebois with his 40 or 50,000 French (the Leftward or western of
those Two Belleisle Armies), threatening our Hanover from another side,
crossed the Lower Rhine--But let us not anticipate. The case of Hanover,
which everybody saw to be his Majesty's vulnerable point, was the
constant open door of France and her machinations, and a never-ending
theme of angry eloquences in the English Parliament as well.

So that the case of Hanover proved insoluble throughout, and was like
a perpetual running sore. Oh the pamphleteerings, the denouncings,
the complainings, satirical and elegiac, which grounded themselves
on Hanover, the CASE OF THE HANOVER FORCES, and innumerable other
Hanoverian cases, griefs and difficulties! So pungently vital to
somnambulant mankind at that epoch; to us fallen dead as carrion, and
unendurable to think of. My friends, if you send for Gentlemen from
Hanover, you must take them with Hanover adhering more or less; and
ought not to quarrel with your bargain, which you reckoned so divine!
No doubt, it is singular to see a Britannic Majesty neglecting his own
Spanish War, the one real business he has at present; and running about
over all the world; busy, soul, body and breeches-pocket, in other
people's wars; egging on other fighting, whispering every likely fellow
he can meet, "Won't you perhaps fight? Here is for you, if so!"--hand to
breeches-pocket accompanying the word. But it must be said, and ought to
be better known than in our day it is, His Majesty's Ministers, and the
English State-Doctors generally, were precisely of the same mind. TO
them too the Austrian Quarrel was everything, their own poor Spanish
Quarrel nothing; and the complaint they make of his Majesty is rather
that he does not rush rapidly enough, with brandished sword, as well
as with guineas raining from him, into this one indispensable business.
"Owing to his fears for Hanover!" say they, with indignation, with no
end of suspicion, angry pamphleteering and covert eloquence, "within
those walls" and without.

The suspicion of Hanover's checking his Majesty's Pragmatic velocity is
altogether well founded; and there need no more be said on that Hanover
score. Be it well understood and admitted, Hanover was the Britannic
Majesty's beloved son; and the British Empire his opulent milk-cow.
Richest of milk-cows; staff of one's life, for grand purposes and
small; beautiful big animal, not to be provoked; but to be stroked and
milked:--Friends, if you will do a Glorious Revolution of that kind, and
burn such an amount of tar upon it, why eat sour herbs for an inevitable
corollary therefrom! And let my present readers understand, at any
rate, that,--except in Wapping, Bristol and among the simple
instinctive classes (with whom, it is true, go Pitt and some illustrious
figures),--political England generally, whatever of England had
Parliamentary discourse of reason, and did Pamphlets, Despatches,
Harangues, went greatly along with his Majesty in that Pragmatic
Business. And be the blame of delirium laid on the right back, where it
ought to lie, not on the wrong, which has enough to bear of its own. And
go not into that dust-whirlwind of extinct stupidities, O reader:--what
reader would, except for didactic objects? Know only that it does of a
truth whirl there; and fancy always, if you can, that certain things and
Human Figures, a Friedrich, a Chatham and some others, have it for their
Life-Element. Which, I often think, is their principal misfortune
with Posterity; said Life-Element having gone to such an unutterable
condition for gods and men.

"One other thing surprises us in those Old Pamphlets," says my
Constitutional Friend: "How the phrase, 'Cause of Liberty' ever and anon
turns up, with great though extinct emphasis, evidently sincere. After
groping, one is astonished to find it means Support of the House of
Austria; keeping of the Hapsburgs entire in their old Possessions
among mankind! That, to our great-grandfathers, was the 'Cause of
Liberty;'--said 'Cause' being, with us again, Electoral Suffrage and
other things; a notably different definition, perhaps still wider of the
mark.

"Our great-grandfathers lived in perpetual terror that they would be
devoured by France; that French ambition would overset the Celestial
Balance, and proceed next to eat the British Nation. Stand upon your
guard then, one would have said: Look to your ships, to your defences,
to your industries; to your virtues first of all,--your VIRTUTES,
manhoods, conformities to the Divine Law appointed you; which are
the great and indeed sole strength to any Man or Nation! Discipline
yourselves, wisely, in all kinds; more and more, till there be no
anarchic fibre left in you. Unanarchic, disciplined at all points, you
might then, I should say, with supreme composure, let France, and the
whole World at its back, try what they could do upon you and the unique
little Island you are so lucky as to live in?--Foolish mortals: what
Potentiality of Battle, think you (not against France only, but against
Satanas and the Ministers of Chaos generally), would a poor Friedrich
Wilhelm, not to speak of better, have got out of such a Possession, had
it been his to put in drill! And drill is not of soldiers only; though
perhaps of soldiers first and most indispensably of all; since 'without
Being,' as my Friend Oliver was wont to say, 'Well-being is not
possible.' There is military drill; there is industrial, economic,
spiritual; gradually there are all kinds of drill, of wise discipline,
of peremptory mandate become effective everywhere, 'OBEY the Laws of
Heaven, or else disappear from these latitudes!' Ah me, if one dealt in
day-dreams, and prophecies of an England grown celestial,--celestial she
should be, not in gold nuggets, continents all of beef, and seas all
of beer, Abolition of Pain, and Paradise to All and Sundry, but in
that quite different fashion; and there, I should say, THERE were the
magnificent Hope to indulge in! That were to me the 'Cause of Liberty;'
and any the smallest contribution towards that kind of 'Liberty' were a
sacred thing!--

"Belleisle again may, if he pleases, call his the Cause of Sovereignty.
A Sovereign Louis, it would appear, has not governing enough to do
within his own French borders, but feels called to undertake Germany as
well;--a gentleman with an immense governing faculty, it would appear?
Truly, good reader, I am sick of heart, contemplating those empty
sovereign mountebanks, and empty antagonist ditto, with their Causes of
Liberty and Causes of Anti-Liberty; and cannot but wish that we had got
the ashes of that World-Explosion, of 1789, well riddled and smelted,
and the poor World were quit of a great many things!"--

My Constitutional Historian of England, musing on Belleisle and his
Anti-Pragmatic industries and grandiosities,--"how Chief-Bully Belleisle
stept down into the ring as a gay Volunteer, and foolish Chief-Defender
George had to follow dismally heroic, as a Conscript of Fate,"--drops
these words: in regard to the Wages they respectively had:--

"Nations that go into War without business there, are sure of
getting business as they proceed; and if the beginning were
phantasms,--especially phantasms of the hoping, self-conceited
kind,--the results for them are apt to be extremely real! As was the
case with the French in this War, and those following, in which his
Britannic Majesty played chief counter-tenor. From 1741, in King
Friedrich's First War, onwards to Friedrich's Third War, 1756-1763,
the volunteer French found a great deal of work lying ready for
them,--gratuitous on their part, from the beginning. And the results to
them came out, first completely visible, in the World-Miracles of 1789,
and the years following!

"Nations, again, may be driven upon War by phantasm TERRORS, and go into
it, in sorrow of heart, not gayety of heart; and that is a shade
better. And one always pities a poor Nation, in such case;--as the
very Destinies rather do, and judge it more mercifully. Nay, the poor
bewildered Nation may, among its brain-phantasms, have something of
reality and sanity inarticulately stirring it withal. It may have a real
ordinance of Heaven to accomplish on those terms:--and IF so, it will
sometimes, in the most chaotic circuitous ways, through endless hazards,
at a hundred or a hundred thousand times the natural expense, ultimately
get it done! This was the case of the poor English in those Wars.

"They were Wars extraneous to England little less than to France;
neither Nation had real business in them; and they seem to us now a
very mad object on the part of both. But they were not gratuitously gone
into, on the part of England; far from that. England undertook them,
with its big heart very sorrowful, strange spectralities bewildering
it; and managed them (as men do sleep-walking) with a gloomy solidity of
purpose, with a heavy-laden energy, and, on the whole, with a depth
of stupidity, which were very great. Yet look at the respective net
results. France lies down to rot into grand Spontaneous-Combustion,
Apotheosis of Sansculottism, and much else; which still lasts, to her
own great peril, and the great affliction of neighbors. Poor England,
after such enormous stumbling among the chimney-pots, and somnambulism
over all the world for twenty years, finds on awakening, that she is
arrived, after all, where she wished to be, and a good deal farther!
Finds that her own important little errand is somehow or other,
done;--and, in short, that 'Jenkins's Ear [as she named the thing] HAS
been avenged,' and the Ocean Highways 'opened' and a good deal more, in
a most signal way! For the Eternal Providences--little as poor Dryasdust
now knows of it, mumbling and maundering that sad stuff of his--do rule;
and the great soul of the world, I assure you once more, is JUST. And
always for a Nation, as for a man, it is very behooveful to be honest,
to be modest, however stupid!"--

By this time, however,--Mollwitz having fallen out, and Belleisle being
evidently on the steps,--his Britannic Majesty recognizes clearly,
and insists upon it, strengthened by his Harringtons and everybody of
discernment, That, nefarious or not, this Friedrich will require to be
bargained with. That, far from breaking in upon him, and partitioning
him (how far from it!), there is no conceivable method of saving the
Celestial Balances till HE be satisfied, in some way. This is the
one step his Britannic Majesty has yet made, out of these his choking
imbroglios; and truly this is one. Hyndford, his best negotiator, is on
the road for Friedrich's Camp; Robinson at Vienna, has been directed to
say and insist, "Bargain with that man; he must be bargained with, if
our Cause of Liberty is to be saved at all?"--

And now, having opened the dust-bin so far, that the reader's fancy
might be stirred without affliction to his lungs and eyes, let us shut
it down again,--might we but hope forever! That is too fond a hope. But
the background or sustaining element made imaginable, the few events
deserving memory may surely go on at a much swifter pace.



Chapter II. -- CAMP OF STREHLEN.

Friedrich's Silesian Camps this Summer, Camp of Strehlen chiefly, were
among the strangest places in the world. Friedrich, as we have often
noticed, did not much pursue the defeated Austrians, at or near
Mollwitz, or press them towards flat ruin in their Silesian business: it
is clear he anxiously wished a bargain without farther exasperation; and
hoped he might get it by judicious patience. Brieg he took, with that
fine outburst of bombardment, which did not last a week: but Brieg
once his, he fell quiet again; kept encamping, here there, in that
Mollwitz-Neisse region, for above three months to come; not doing much,
beyond the indispensable; negotiating much, or rather negotiated with,
and waiting on events. [In Camp of Mollwitz (nearer Brieg than the
Battle-field was) till 28th May (after the Battle seven weeks); then to
Camp at Grotkau (28th May-9th June, twelve days); thence (9th June) to
Friedewalde, Herrnsdorf; to Strehlen (21st June-20th August, nine or
ten weeks in all). See _Helden-Geschichte_, i. 924, ii. 931; Rodenbeck,
Orlich, &c.]

Both Armies were reinforcing themselves; and Friedrich's, for obvious
reasons, in the first weeks especially, became much the stronger. Once
in May, and again afterwards, weary of the pace things went at, he had
resolved on having Neisse at once; on attacking Neipperg in his strong
camp there, and cutting short the tedious janglings and uncertainties.
He advanced to Grotkau accordingly, some twelve or fifteen miles nearer
Neisse (28th May,--stayed till 9th June), quite within wind of Neipperg
and his outposts; but found still, on closer inspection, that he had
better wait;--and do so withal at a greater distance from Neipperg and
his Pandour Swarms. He drew back therefore to Strehlen, northwestward,
rather farther from Neisse than before; and lay encamped there for nine
or ten weeks to come. Not till the beginning of August did there fall
out any military event (Pandour skirmishing in plenty, but nothing
to call an event); and not till the end of August any that pointed to
conclusive results. As it was at Strehlen where mostly these Diplomacies
went on, and the Camp of Strehlen was the final and every way the main
one, it may stand as the representative of these Diplomatizing Camps to
us, and figure as the sole one which in fact it nearly was.

Strehlen is a pleasant little Town, nestled prettily among its granite
Hills, the steeple of it visible from Mollwitz; some twenty-five miles
west of Brieg, some thirty south of Breslau, and about as far northwest
of Neisse: there Friedrich and his Prussians lie, under canvas mainly,
with outposts and detachments sprinkled about under roofs:--a Camp
of Strehlen, more or less imaginable by the reader. And worth his
imagining; such a Camp, if not for soldiering, yet for negotiating and
wagging of diplomatic wigs, as there never was before. Here, strangely
shifted hither, is the centre of European Politics all Summer. From the
utmost ends of Europe come Ambassadors to Strehlen: from Spain, France,
England, Denmark, Holland,--there are sometimes nine at once, how many
successively and in total I never knew. [_Helden-Geschichte,_ i.
932.] They lodge generally in Breslau; but are always running over to
Strehlen. There sits, properly speaking, the general Secret Parliament
of Europe; and from most Countries, except Austria, representatives
attend at Strehlen, or go and come between Breslau and Strehlen,
submissive to the evils of field-life, when need is. A surprising thing
enough to mankind, and big as the world in its own day; though gone
now to small bulk,--one Human Figure pretty much all that is left of
memorable in it to mankind and us.

French Belleisle we have seen; who is gone again, long since, on his
wide errands; fat Valori too we have seen, who is assiduously here. The
other figures, except the English, can remain dark to us. Of Montijos,
the eminent Spaniard, a brown little man, magnificent as the Kingdom of
the Incas, with half a page of titles (half a peck, five-and-twenty or
more, of handles to his little name, if you should ever require it);
who, finding matters so backward at Frankfurt, and nothing to do there,
has been out, in the interim, touring to while away the tedium; and
is here only as sequel and corroboration of Belleisle,--say as
bottle-holder, or as high-wrought peacock's-tail, to Belleisle:--of
the eminent Montijos I have to record next to nothing in the shape of
negotiation ("Treaty" with the Termagant was once proposed by him here,
which Friedrich in his politest way declined); and shall mention only,
That his domestic arrangements were sumptuous and commodious in the
extreme. Let him arrive in the meanest village, destitute of
human appliances, and be directed to the hut where he is to
lodge,--straightway from the fourgons and baggage-chests of Montijos
is produced, first of all, a round of arras hangings, portable tables,
portable stove, gold plate and silver; thus, with wax-lights, wines
of richest vintage, exquisite cookeries, Montijos lodges, a king
everywhere, creating an Aladdin's palace everywhere; able to say, like
the Sage Bias, OMNIA MEA NAECUM PORTO. These things are recorded of
Montijos. What he did in the way of negotiation has escaped men's
memory, as it could well afford to do.

Of Hyndford's appurtenances for lodging we already had a glimpse,
through Busching once;--pointing towards solid dinner-comforts rather
than arras hangings; and justifying the English genius in that respect.
The weight of the negotiations fell on Hyndford; it is between him and
French Valori that the matter lies, Montijos and the others being mere
satellites on their respective sides. Much battered upon, this Hyndford,
by refractory Hanoverians pitting George as Elector against the same
George as King, and egging these two identities to woful battle with
each other,--"Lay me at his Majesty's feet" full length, and let his
Majesty say which is which, then! A heavy, eating, haggling, unpleasant
kind of mortal, this Hyndford; bites and grunts privately, in a stupid
ferocious manner, against this young King: "One of the worst of men;
who will not take up the Cause of Liberty at all, and is not made in
the image of Hyndford at all." They are dreadfully stiff reading, those
Despatches of Hyndford: but they have particles of current news in them;
interesting glimpses of that same young King;--likewise of Hyndford,
laid at his Majesty's feet, and begging for self and brothers any good
benefice that may fall vacant. We can discern, too, a certain rough
tenacity and horse-dealer finesse in the man; a broad-based, shrewdly
practical Scotch Gentleman, wide awake; and can conjecture that the
diplomatic function, in that element, might have been in worse hands. He
is often laid metaphorically at the King's feet, King of England's; and
haunts personally the King of Prussia's elbow at all times, watching
every glance of him, like a British house-dog, that will not be taken
in with suspicious travellers, if he can help it; and casting perpetual
horoscopes in his dull mind.

Of Friedrich and his demeanor in this strange scene, centre of a World
all drawing sword, and jumbling in huge Diplomatic and other delirium
about his ears, the reader will desire to see a direct glimpse or two.
As to the sad general Imbroglio of Diplomacies which then weltered
everywhere, readers can understand that, it has, at this day, fallen
considerably obscure (as it deserved to do); and that even Friedrich's
share of it is indistinct in parts. The game, wide as Europe, and one of
the most intricate ever played by Diplomatic human creatures, was kept
studiously dark while it went on; and it has not since been a
pleasant object of study. Many of the Documents are still unpublished,
inaccessible; so that the various moves in the game, especially what the
exact dates and sequence of them were (upon which all would turn), are
not completely ascertainable,--nor in truth are they much worth hunting
after, through such an element. One thing we could wish to have out of
it, the one thing of sane that was in it: the demeanor and physiognomy
of Friedrich as there manifested; Friedrich alone, or pretty much alone
of all these Diplomatic Conjurers, having a solid veritable object in
hand. The rest--the spiders are very welcome to it: who of mortals would
read it, were it made never so lucid to him? Such traits of Friedrich as
can be sifted out into the conceivable and indubitable state, the reader
shall have; the extinct Bedlam, that begirdled Friedrich far and
wide, need not be resuscitated except for that object. Of Friedrich's
fairness, or of Friedrich's "trickiness, machiavelism and attorneyism,"
readers will form their own notion, as they proceed. On one point they
will not be doubtful, That here is such a sharpness of steady eyesight
(like the lynx's, like the eagle's), and, privately such a courage and
fixity of resolution, as are highly uncommon.

April 26th, 1741, in the same days while Belleisle arrived in the Camp
at Mollwitz, and witnessed that fine opening of the cannonade upon
Brieg, Excellency Hyndford got to Berlin; and on notifying the event,
was invited by the King to come along to Breslau, and begin business.
England has been profuse enough in offering her "good offices with
Austria" towards making a bargain for his Prussian Majesty; but is
busy also, at the Hague, concerting with the Dutch "some strong joint
resolution,"--resolution, Openly to advise Friedrich to withdraw his
troops from Silesia, by way of starting fair towards a bargain. A very
strong resolution, they and the Gazetteers think it; and ask themselves,
Is it not likely to have some effect? Their High Mightinesses have been
screwing their courage, and under English urgency, have decided
(April 24th), [_Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 964; the ADVICE itself, a very
mild-spoken Piece, but of riskish nature think the Dutch, is given,
ib. 965, 966.] "Yes, we will jointly so advise!" and Friedrich has
got inkling of it from Rasfeld, his Minister there. Hyndford's first
business (were the Dutch Excellency once come up, but those Dutch are
always hanging astern!) is to present said "Advice," and try what
will come of that, An "Advice" now fallen totally insignificant to the
Universe and to us,--only that readers will wish to see how Friedrich
takes it, and if any feature of Friedrich discloses itself in the
affair.



EXCELLENCY HYNDFORD HAS HIS FIRST AUDIENCE (Camp of Mollwitz, May 7th);
AND FRIEDRICH MAKES A MOST IMPORTANT TREATY,--NOT WITH HYNDFORD.

May 2d, Hyndford arrived in Breslau; and after some preliminary
flourishings, and difficulties about post-horses and furnitures in a
seat of War, got to Brieg; and thence, May 7th, "to the Camp [Camp
of Mollwitz still], which is about an English mile off,"--Podewils
escorting him from Brieg, and what we note farther, Pollnitz too;
our poor old Pollnitz, some kind of Chief Goldstick, whom we did not
otherwise know to be on active duty in those rude scenes. Belleisle had
passed through Breslau while Hyndford was there:--"am unable to inform
your Lordship what success he has had." Brieg Siege is done only three
days ago; Castle all lying black; and the new trenching and fortifying
hardly begun. In a word, May 7th, 1741, "about 11 A.M.," Excellency
Hyndford is introduced to the King's Tent, and has his First Audience.
Goldstick having done his motions, none but Podewils is left present;
who sits at a table, taking notes of what is said. Podewils's Notes
are invisible to me; but here, in authentic though carefully compressed
state, is Hyndford's minute Narrative:--

Excellency Hyndford mentioned the Instructions he had, as to "good
offices," friendship and so forth. "But his Prussian Majesty had hardly
patience to hear me out; and said in a passion [we rise, where possible,
Hyndford's own wording; readers will allow for the leaden quality in
some parts]:--KING (in a passion). 'How is it possible, my Lord, to
believe things so contradictory? It is mighty fine all this that you now
tell me, on the part of the King of England; but how does it correspond
to his last Speech to his Parliament [19th April last, when Mr. Viner
was in such minority of one] and to the doings of his Ministers at
Petersburg [a pretty Partition-Treaty that; and the Excellency Finch
still busy, as I know!] and at the Hague [Excellency Trevor there, and
this beautiful Joint-Resolution and Advice which is coming!] to stir up
allies against me? I have reason rather to doubt the sincerity of the
King of England. They perhaps mean to amuse me. [That is Friedrich's
real opinion. [His Letter to Podewils (Ranke, ii. 268).]] But, by God,
they are mistaken! I will risk everything rather than abate the least of
my pretensions.'"

Poor Hyndford said and mumbled what he could; knew nothing what
instructions Finch had, Trevor had, and--KING. "'My Lord, there seems
to be a contradiction in all this. The King of England, in his Letter,
tells me you are instructed as to everything; and yet you pretend
ignorance! But I am perfectly informed of all. And I should not be
surprised if, after all these fine words, you should receive some strong
letter or resolution for me,'"--Joint-Resolution to Advise, for example?

Hyndford, not in the strength of conscious innocence, stands silent; the
King, "in his heat of passion," said to Podewils:--KING TO PODEWILS (on
the sudden). "'Write down, that my Lord would be surprised [as he
should be] to receive such Instructions!'" (A mischievous sparkle,
half quizzical, half practical, considerably in the Friedrich
style.)--Hyndford, "quite struck, my Lord, with this strange way of
acting," and of poking into one, protests with angry grunt, and "was put
extremely upon my guard." Of course Podewils did net write....

HYNDFORD. "'Europe is under the necessity of taking some speedy
resolution, things are in such a state of crisis. Like a fever in a
human body, got to such a height that quinquina becomes necessary.' ...
That expression made him smile, and he began to look a little cooler....
'Shall we apply to Vienna, your Majesty?'

FRIEDRICH. "'Follow your own will in that.'

HYNDFORD. "'Would your Majesty consent now to stand by his Excellency
Gotter's original Offer at Vienna on your part? Agree, namely, in
consideration of Lower Silesia and Breslau, to assist the Queen with all
your troops for maintenance of Pragmatic Sanction, and to vote for the
Grand-Duke as Kaiser?'

KING. "'Yes' [what the reader may take notice of, and date for himself].

HYNDFORD. "'What was the sum of money then offered her Hungarian
Majesty?'

"King hesitated, as if he had forgotten; Podewils answered, 'Three
million florins (300,000 pounds).'

KING. "'I should not value the money; if money would content her
Majesty, I would give more.'... Here was a long pause, which I did not
break;"--nor would the King. Podewils reminded me of an idea we had been
discoursing of together ("on his suggestion, my Lord, which I really
think is of importance, and worth your Lordship's consideration");
whereupon, on such hint,

HYNDFORD. "'Would your Majesty consent to an Armistice?'

FRIEDRICH. "'Yes; but [counts on his fingers, May, June, till he comes
to December] not for less than six months,--till December 1st. By that
time they could do nothing,'" the season out by that time.

HYNDFORD. "'His Excellency Podewils has been taking notes; if I am to be
bound by them, might I first see that he has mistaken nothing?'

KING. "'Certainly!'"--Podewils's Note-protocol is found to be correct in
every point; Hyndford, with some slight flourish of compliments on both
sides, bows himself away (invited to dinner, which he accepts, "will
surely have that honor before returning to Breslau");--and so the First
Audience has ended. [Hyndford's Despatches, Breslau, 5th and 13th May,
1741. Are in State-Paper Office, like the rest of Hyndford's; also
in British Museum (Additional MSS. 11,365 &c.), the rough draughts of
them.] Baronay and Pandours are about,--this is ten days before the
Ziethen feat on Baronay;--but no Pandour, now or afterwards, will harm a
British Excellency.

These utterances of Friedrich's, the more we examine them by other
lights that there are, become the more correctly expressive of what
Friedrich's real feelings were on the occasion. Much contrary, perhaps,
to expectation of some readers. And indeed we will here advise our
readers to prepare for dismissing altogether that notion of Friedrich's
duplicity, mendacity, finesse and the like, which was once widely
current in the world; and to attend always strictly to what Friedrich
says, if they wish to guess what he is thinking;--there being no such
thing as "mendacity" discoverable in Friedrich, when you take the
trouble to inform yourself. "Mendacity," my friends? How busy have
the Owls been with Friedrich's memory, in different countries of the
world;--perhaps even more than their sad wont is in such cases! For
indeed he was apt to be of swift abrupt procedure, disregardful of
Owleries; and gave scope for misunderstanding in the course of his life.
But a veracious man he was, at all points; not even conscious of
his veracity; but had it in the blood of him; and never looked upon
"mendacity" but from a very great height indeed. He does not, except
where suitable, at least he never should, express his whole meaning; but
you will never find him expressing what is not his meaning. Reticence,
not dissimulation. And as to "finesse,"--do not believe in that either,
in the vulgar or bad sense. Truly you will find his finesse is a very
fine thing; and that it consists, not in deceiving other people, but in
being right himself; in well discerning, for his own behoof, what the
facts before him are; and in steering, which he does steadily, in a most
vigilant, nimble, decisive and intrepid manner, by monition of the
same. No salvation but in the facts. Facts are a kind of divine thing
to Friedrich; much more so than to common men: this is essentially what
Religion I have found in Friedrich. And, let me assure you, it is an
invaluable element in any man's Religion, and highly indispensable,
though so often dispensed with! Readers, especially in our time English
readers, who would gain the least knowledge about Friedrich, in the
extinct Bedlam where his work now lay, have a great many things to
forget, and sad strata of Owl-droppings, ancient and recent, to sweep
away!--

To Friedrich a bargain with Austria, which would be a getting into port,
in comparison to going with the French in that distracted voyage of
theirs, is highly desirable. "Shall I join with the English, in hope
of some tolerable bargain from Austria? Shall I have to join with the
French, in despair of any?" Readers may consider how stringent upon
Friedrich that question now was, and how ticklish to solve. And it must
be solved soon,--under penalty of "being left with no ally at all" (as
Friedrich expresses himself), while the whole world is grouping itself
into armed heaps for and against! If the English would but get me a
bargain--? Friedrich dare not think they will. Nay, scanning these
English incoherences, these contradictions between what they say here
and what they do and say elsewhere, he begins to doubt if they zealously
wish it,--and at last to believe that they sincerely do not wish it;
that "they mean to amuse me" (as he said to Hyndford)--till my French
chance too is over. "To amuse me: but, PAR DIEU--!" His Notes to
Podewils, of which Ranke, who has seen them, gives us snatches, are
vivid in that sense: "I should be ashamed if the cunningest Italian
could dupe me; but that a lout of a Hanoverian should do it!"--and
Podewils has great difficulty to keep him patient yet a little; Valori
being so busy on the other side, and the time so pressing. Here are some
dates and some comments, which the reader should take with him;--here is
a very strange issue to the Joint-Resolution of a strong nature now on
hand!

A few days after that First Audience, Ginkel the Dutch Excellency, with
the due Papers in his pocket, did arrive. Excellency Hyndford, who
is not without rough insight into what lies under his nose, discovers
clearly that the grand Dutch-English Resolution, or Joint-Exhortation
to evacuate Silesia, will do nothing but mischief; and (at his own
risk, persuading Ginkel also to delay) sends a Courier to England before
presenting it. And from England, in about a fortnight, gets for answer,
"Do harm, think you? Hm, ha!--Present it, all the same; and modify by
assurances afterwards,"--as if these would much avail! This is not
the only instance in which St. James's rejects good advice from its
Hyndford; the pity would be greater, were not the Business what it
is! Podewils has the greatest difficulty to keep Friedrich quiet till
Hyndford's courier get back. And on his getting back with such answer,
"Present it all the same," Friedrich will not wait for that ceremony,
or delay a moment longer. Friedrich has had his Valori at work, all this
while; Valori and Podewils, and endless correspondence and consultation
going on; and things hypothetically almost quite ready; so that--

June 5th, 1741, Friedrich, spurring Podewils to the utmost speed, and
"ordering secrecy on pain of death," signs his Treaty with France! A
kind of provisional off-and-on Treaty, I take it to be; which was
never published, and is thought to have had many IFS in it: signs this
Treaty;--and next day (June 6th, such is the impetuosity of haste)
instructs his Rasfeld at the Hague, "You will beforehand inform the
High Mightinesses, in regard to that Advice of April 24th, which they
determined on giving me, through the Excellency Herr von Ginkel
along with Excellency Hyndford, That such Advice can, by me, only be
considered as a blind complaisance to the Court of Vienna's improper
urgencies, improper in such a matter. That for certain I will not quit
Silesia till my claims be satisfied. And the longer I am forced to
continue warring for them here," wasting more resource and risk upon
them, "the higher they will rise!" [_Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 963.]
And this is what comes of that terribly courageous Dutch-English
"Joint-Resolution of a strong nature;" it has literally cut before the
point: the Exhortation is not yet presented, but the Treaty with France
is signed in virtue of it!--

Undoubtedly this of June 5th is the most important Treaty in the
Austrian-Succession War, and the cardinal element of Friedrich's
procedure in that Adventure. And it has never been published; nor, till
Herr Professor Ranke got access to the Prussian Archives, has even the
date of signing it been rightly known; but is given two or three ways
in different express Collections of Treaties. [Scholl, ii. 297 (copying
"Flassan, _Hist. de la Diplom. Franc._ v. 142"), gives "5th July" as
the date; Adelung (ii. 357, 390, 441) guesses that it was "in August;"
Valori (i. 108), who was himself in it, gives the correct date,--but
then his Editor (thought inquiring readers) was such a sloven and
ignoramus. See Stenzel, iv. 143; Ranke, ii. 274.] Herr Ranke knows this
Treaty, and the correspondences, especially Friedrich's correspondence
with Podewils preparatory to it; and speaks, as his wont is, several
exact things about it; thanks to him, in the circumstances. I wish it
could be made, even with his help, fully intelligible to the reader!
For, were the Treaty never so express, surely the mode of keeping it, on
both parts, was very strange; and that latter concerns us somewhat.

A very fast-and-loose Treaty, to all appearance! Outwardly it is a mere
Treaty of Alliance, each party guaranteeing the other for Fifteen Years;
without mention made of the joint Belleisle Adventure now in the wind.
But then, like the postscript to a lady's letter, there come "secret
articles" bearing upon that essential item: How France, in the course
of this current season 1741, is to bring an Army across the Rhine in
support of its friend Kur-Baiern VERSUS Austria; is, in the same term of
time, to make Sweden declare war on Russia (important for Friedrich, who
is never sure a moment that those Russians will not break in upon
him); and finally, most important of all, That France "guarantees Lower
Silesia with Breslau to his Prussian Majesty." In return for which his
Prussian Majesty--will do what? It is really difficult to say what: Be
a true ally and second to France in its grand German Adventure? Not
at all. Friedrich does not yet know, nor does Belleisle himself quite
precisely, what the grand German Adventure is; and Friedrich's wishes
never were, nor will be, for the prosperity of that. Support France,
at least in its small Bavarian Anti-Austrian Adventure? By no means
definitely even that. "Maintain myself in Lower Silesia with Breslau,
and fight my best to such end:" really that, you might say, is in
substance the most of what Friedrich undertakes; though inarticulately
he finds himself bound to much more,--and will frankly go into it, IF
you do as you have said; and unless you do, will not. Never was a more
contingent Treaty: "unless you stir up Sweden, Messieurs; unless
you produce that Rhine Army; unless--" such is steadily Friedrich's
attitude; long after this, he refuses to say whom he will vote for as
Kaiser: "Fortune of War will decide it," answers he, in regard to that
and to many other things; and keeps himself to an incomprehensible
extent loose; ready, for weeks and months after, to make bargain on his
own Silesian Affair with anybody that can. [Ranke, ii. 271, 275, 280.]

For indeed the French also are very contingent; Fleury hanging one way,
Belleisle pushing another; and know not how far they will go on the
grand German Adventure, nor conclusively whether at all. Here is an
Anecdote by Friedrich himself. Valori was, one night, with him; and,
on rising to take leave, the fat hand, sticking probably in the big
waistcoat-pocket, twitched out a little diplomatic-looking Note; which
Friedrich, with gentle adroitness (permissible in such circumstances),
set his foot upon, till Valori had bowed himself out. The Note was
from Amelot, French Minister of the Foreign Department: "Don't give
his Prussian Majesty Glatz, if it can possibly be helped." Very well,
thought Friedrich; and did not forget the fine little Note on burning
it. [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ ii. 90.] There went, in French couriers'
bags, a great many such, to Austria some of them, of far more
questionable tenor, within the next twelve months.

Two things we have to remark: FIRST, That Friedrich, with an eye to real
business on his part in the Bavarian Adventure, in which Kur-Pfalz is
sure to accompany, volunteered (like a real man of business, and much to
Belleisle's surprise) to renounce the Berg-Julich controversy, and let
Kur-Pfalz have his way, that there might be no quarrelling among allies.
This too is contingent; but was gladly accepted by Belleisle. SECOND,
That Belleisle had instructed Valori, Not to insist on active help
from Friedrich in the German Adventure, but merely to stipulate for
his Neutrality throughout, in case they could get no more. How joyfully
would Friedrich have accepted this,--had Valori volunteered with it,
which he did not! [Ranke, ii. 280.] But, after all, in result it was the
same; and had to be,--PLUS only a great deal of clamor by and by, from
the French and the Gazetteers, about the Article in question.

Was there ever so contingent a Treaty before? It is signed, Breslau,
5th June, 1741, and both parties have their hands loose, and make use of
their liberty for months to come; nay, in some sort, all along; feeling
how contingent it was! Friedrich did not definitely tie himself till
4th November next, five months after: when he signed the French-Bavarian
Treaty, renounced Berg-Julich controversies, and fairly went into
the French-Bavarian, smaller French Adventure; into the greater, or
wide-winged Belleisle one, he never went nor intended to go,--perhaps
even the contrary, if needful. Readers may try to remember these
elucidative items, riddled from the immensities of Dryasdust: I have no
more to give, nor can afford to return upon it. May not we well say, as
above, "A Treaty thought to have many IFS in it!"--And now, 8th June,
comes solemnly the Joint-Resolution itself; like mustard (under a
flourish of trumpets) three days after dinner:--

"CAMP OF GROTKAU, 8th JUNE. Hyndford and Ginkel [the same respectable
old Ginkel whom we used to know in Friedrich Wilhelm's time], having,
according to renewed order, got out from Breslau with that formidable
Dutch-English 'Advice' or Joint-Exhortation in their pocket, did this
day in the Camp at Grotkau present the same. A very mild-spoken Piece,
though it had required such courage; and which is not now worth speaking
of, things having gone as we see. Friedrich received it with a gracious
mien: 'Infinitely sensible to the trouble his Britannic Majesty and
their High Mightinesses took with his affairs; Document should receive
his best consideration,'--which indeed it has already done, and its
Answer withal: A FRENCH Treaty signed three days ago, in virtue of it!
'Might I request a short Private Audience of your Majesty?' solicits
Hyndford, intending to modify by new assurances, as bidden.--'Surely,'
answers Friedrich.

"The two Excellencies dine with the King, who is in high spirits. After
dinner, Hyndford gets his Private Audience; does his best in the way of
'new assurances;' which produce what effect we can fancy. Among other
things, he appeals to the King's 'magnanimity, how grand and generous
it will be to accept moderate terms from Austria, to--' KING
(interrupting): 'My Lord, don't talk to me of magnanimity, a Prince
[acting not for himself but for his Nation] ought to consult his
interest in the first place. I am not against Peace: but I expect to
have Four Duchies given me.'" [State-Paper Office (Hyndford, Breslau,
12th June, 1741).]

Hyndford and Ginkel slept that night in Grotkau Town: "at 4 next morning
the King sent us word, That if we had a mind to see the Army on march,"
just moving off, Strehlen way, "we might come out by the North Gate."
We accordingly saw the whole Army leave Camp; and march in four columns
towards Friedewald, where Marshal Neipperg is encamped. "Not a bit
of it, your Excellency! Neipperg is safe at Neisse; amid inaccessible
embankments and artificial mud: and these are mere Hussar-Pandour rabble
out here; whom a push or two sends home again,--would it could keep them
there! But they are of sylvan (or SALVAGE) nature, affecting the shade;
and burst out, for theft and arson, sometimes at great distances, no
calculating where. The King's Army lay all that night upon their arms,
and encamped next morning, the 10th. I believe nothing happened that
day, for we were obliged to stay at Grotkau, for want of post-horses, a
good part of it."

Hyndford hears (in secret Opposition Circles, and lays the flattering
unction to his soul and your Lordship's): "The King of Prussia's Army,
as I am informed, unless he will take counsel, another campaign will go
near to ruin. Everything is in the greatest disorder; utmost dejection
amongst the Officers from highest to lowest;"--fact being that the
King has important improvements and new drillings in view (to go on
at Strehlen), Cavalry improvements, Artillery improvements, unknown to
Hyndford and the Opposition; and will not be ruined next campaign.
"I hope the news we have here, of the taking of Carthagena, is true,"
concludes he. Alas, your Excellency!

By a different hand, from the southward Hungarian regions, far over the
Hills, take this other entry; almost of enthusiastic style:--

"PRESBURG, 25th JUNE. Maria Theresa, in high spirits about her English
Subsidy and the bright aspects, left Vienna about a week ago for
Presburg [a drive of fifty miles down the fine Donau country]; and is
celebrating her Coronation there, as Queen of Hungary, in a very sublime
manner. Sunday, 25th June, 1741, that is the day of putting on your
Crown,--Iron Crown of St. Stephen, as readers know. The Chivalry of
Hungary, from Palfy and Esterhazy downward, and all the world are there;
shining in loyalty and barbaric gold and pearl. A truly beautiful
Young Woman, beautiful to soul and eye, devout too and noble, though
ill-informed in Political or other Science, is in the middle of it, and
makes the scene still more noticeable to us. See, as the finish of
the ceremonies, she has mounted a high swift horse, sword girt to her
side,--a great rider always, this young Queen;--and gallops, Hungary
following like a comet-tail, to the Konigsberg [KING'S-HILL so called;
no great things of a Hill, O reader; made by barrow, you can see],
to the top of the Konigsberg; there draws sword; and cuts, grandly
flourishing, to the Four Quarters of the Heavens: 'Let any mortal, from
whatever quarter coming, meddle with Hungary if he dare!' [Adelung, ii.
293, 294.] Chivalrous Hungary bursts into passionate acclaim; old Palfy,
I could fancy, into tears; and all the world murmurs to itself, with
moist-gleaming eyes, 'REX NOSTER!' This is, in fact, the beautifulest
King or Queen that now is, this radiant young woman; beautiful things
have been, and are to be, reported of her; and she has a terrible voyage
just ahead,--little dreaming of it at this grand moment. I wish his
Britannic Majesty, or Robinson who has followed out hither, could
persuade her to some compliance on the Silesian matter: what a thing
were that, for herself, and for all mankind, just now! But she will not
hear of that; and is very obstinate, and her stupid Hofraths equally
and much more blamably so. Deaf to hard Facts knocking at their door;
ignorant what Noah's-Deluges have broken out upon them, and are rushing
on inevitable."

By a notable coincidence, precisely while those sword-flourishings go
on at Presburg, Marechal Excellency Belleisle is making his Public Entry
into Frankfurt-on-Mayn: [25th June, 1741 (Adelung, ii. 399).] Frankfurt
too is in cheery emotion; streets populous with Sunday gazers, and
critics of the sublime in spectacle! This is not Belleisle's first
entrance; he himself has been here some time, settling his Household,
and a good many things: but today he solemnly leads in his Countess and
Appendages (over from Metz, where Madame and he officially reside in
common times, "Governor of Metz," one of his many offices);--leads in
Madame, in suitably resplendent manner; to kindle household fire, as it
were; and indicate that here is his place, till he have got a Kaiser
to his mind. Twin Phenomena, these two; going on 500 miles apart;
unconscious of one another, or of what kinship they happen to have!--



EXCELLENCY ROBINSON BUSY IN THE VIENNA HOFRATH CIRCLES, TO PRODUCE A
COMPLIANCE.

Britannic George, both for Pragmatic's sake and for dear Hanover's,
desires much there were a bargain made with Friedrich: How is the
Pragmatic to be saved at all, if Friedrich join France in its Belleisle
machinations, thinks George? And already here is that Camp of Gottin,
glittering in view like a drawn sword pointed at one's throat or at
one's Hanover. Nay, in a month or two hence, as the Belleisle schemes
got above ground in the shape of facts, this desire became passionate,
and a bargain with Prussia seemed the one thing needful. For, alas,
the reader will see there comes, about that time, a second sword (the
Maillebois Army, namely), pointed at one's throat from the French side
of things: so that a Paladin of the Pragmatic, and Hanoverian King of
England, knows not which way to turn! George's sincerity of wish is
perhaps underrated by Friedrich; who indeed knows well enough on which
side George's wishes would fall, if they had liberty (which they have
not), but much overrates "the astucity" of poor George and his English;
ascribing, as is often done, to fine-spun attorneyism what is mere
cunctation, ignorance, negligence, and other forms of a stupidity
perhaps the most honest in the world! By degrees Friedrich understood
better; but he never much liked the English ways of doing business.
George's desire is abundantly sincere, not wholly resting on sublime
grounds; and grows more and more intense every day; but could not be
gratified for a good while yet.

Co-operating with Hyndford, from the Vienna side, is Excellency
Robinson; who has a still harder job of it there. Pity poor Robinson,
O English reader, if you can for indignation at the business he is in.
Saving the Liberties of Europe! thinks Robinson confidently: Founding
the English National Debt, answers Fact; and doing Bottom the Weaver,
with long ears, in the miserablest Pickleherring Tragedy that ever
was!--This is the same Robinson who immortalized himself, nine or ten
years ago, by the First Treaty of Vienna; thrice-salutary Treaty, which
DISJOINED Austria from Bourbon-Spanish Alliances, and brought her into
the arms of the grateful Sea-Powers again. Imminent Downfall of the
Universe was thus, glory to Robinson, arrested for that time. And now
we have the same Robinson instructed to sharpen all his faculties to the
cutting pitch, and do the impossible for this new and reverse face
of matters. What a change from 1731 to 1741! Bugbear of dreadful
Austrian-Spanish Alliance dissolves now into sunlit clouds, encircling
a beautiful Austrian Andromeda, about to be devoured for us; and the
Downfall of the Universe is again imminent, from Spain and others
joining AGAINST Austria. Oh, ye wigs, and eximious wig-blocks, called
right-honorable! If a man, sovereign or other, were to stay well at
home, and mind his own visible affairs, trusting a good deal that
the Universe would shift for itself, might it not be better for
him? Robinson, who writes rather a heavy style, but is full of
inextinguishable heavy zeal withal, will have a great deal to do in
these coming years. Ancestor of certain valuable Earls that now are;
author of immeasurable quantities of the Diplomatic cobwebs that then
were.

To a modern English reader it is very strange, that Austrian scene of
things in which poor Robinson is puffing and laboring. The ineffable
pride, the obstinacy, impotency, ponderous pedantry and helplessness of
that dull old Court and its Hofraths, is nearly inconceivable to modern
readers. Stupid dilapidation is in all departments, and has long been;
all things lazily crumbling downwards, sometimes stumbling down
with great plunges. Cash is done; the world rising, all round, with
plunderous intentions; and hungry Ruin, you would say, coming visibly on
with seven-league boots: here is little room for carrying your head
high among mankind. High nevertheless they do carry it, with a grandly
mournful though stolid insolent air, as if born superior to this
Earth and its wisdoms and successes and multiplication-tables and iron
ramrods,--really with "a certain greatness," says somebody, "greatness
as of great blockheadism" in themselves and their neighbors;--and, like
some absurd old Hindoo Idol (crockery Idol of Somnauth, for instance,
with the belly of him smashed by battle-axes, and the cart-load of
gold coin all run out), persuade mankind that they are a god, though in
dilapidated condition. That is our first impression of the thing.

But again, better seen into, there is not wanting a certain worthily
steadfast, conservative and broad-based high air (reminding you of "Kill
our own mutton, Sir!" and the ancient English Tory species), solid
and loyal, though stolid Ancient Austrian Tories, that definition will
suffice for us;--and Toryism too, the reader may rely on it, is much
patronized by the Upper Powers, and goes a long way in this world. Nay,
without a good solid substratum of that, what thing, with never so many
ballot-boxes, stump-orators, and liberties of the subject, is capable of
going at all, except swiftly to perdition? These Austrians have taken
a great deal of ruining, first and last! Their relation to the then
Sea-Powers, especially to England embarked on the Cause of Liberty,
fills one with amazement, by no means of an idolatrous nature; and is
difficult to understand at all, or to be patient with at all.

Of disposition to comply with Prussia, Robinson finds, in spite of
Mollwitz and the sad experiences, no trace at Vienna. The humor
at Vienna is obstinately defiant; simply to regard Friedrich as a
housebreaker or thief in the night; whom they will soon deal with, were
they once on foot and implements in their hand: "Swift, ye Sea-Powers;
where are the implements, the cash, that means implements?" The Young
Hungarian Majesty herself is magnificently of that opinion, which
is sanctioned by her Bartensteins and wisest Hofraths, with hardly a
dissentient (old Sinzendorf almost alone in his contrary notion, and he
soon dies). Robinson urges the dangers from France. No Hofrath here will
allow himself to believe them; to believe them would be too horrible.
"Depend upon it, France's intentions are not that way. And at the worst,
if France do rise against us, it is but bargaining with France; better
so than bargaining with Prussia, surely. France will be contentable with
something in the Netherlands; what else can she want of us? Parings from
that outskirt, what are these compared with Silesia, a horrid gash into
the vital parts? And what is yielding to the King of France, compared
with yielding to your Prussian King!"--

It is true they have no money, these blind dull people; but are not
the Sea-Powers, England especially, there, created by Nature to supply
money? What else is their purpose in Creation? By Nature's law, as the
Sun mounts in the Ecliptic and then falls, these Sea-Powers, in the
Cause of Liberty, will furnish us money. No surrender; talk not to me of
Silesia or surrender; I will die defending my inheritances: what are
the Sea-Powers about, that they do not furnish more money in a prompt
manner? These are the things poor Robinson has to listen to: Robinson
and England, it is self-evident at Vienna, have one duty, that of
furnishing money. And in a prompt manner, if you please, Sir; why not
prompt and abundant?

An English soul has small exhilaration, looking into those old
expenditures, and bullyings for want of promptitude! But if English
souls will solemnly, under high Heaven, constitute a Duke of Newcastle
and a George II. their Captains of the march Heavenward, and say,
without blushing for it, nay rejoicing at it, in the face of the
sun, "You are the most godlike Two we could lay hold of for that
object,"--what have English souls to expect? My consolation is, and,
alas, it is a poor one, the money would have been mostly wasted any way.
Buy men and gunpowder with your money, to be shot away in foreign parts,
without renown or use: is that so much worse than buying ridiculous
upholsteries, idle luxuries, frivolities, and in the end unbeautiful
pot-bellies corporeal and spiritual with it, here at home? I am struck
silent, looking at much that goes on under these stars;--and find that
misappointment of your Captains, of your Exemplars and Guiding and
Governing individuals, higher and lower, is a fatal business always; and
that especially, as highest instance of it, which includes all the lower
ones, this of solemnly calling Chief Captain, and King by the Grace of
God, a gentleman who is NOT so (and SEEMS to be so mainly by Malice of
the Devil, and by the very great and nearly unforgivable indifference
of Mankind to resist the Devil in that particular province, for the
present), is the deepest fountain of human wretchedness, and the head
mendacity capable of being done!--

As for the brave young Queen of Hungary, my admiration goes with that of
all the world. Not in the language of flattery, but of evident fact, the
royal qualities abound in that high young Lady; had they left the world,
and grown to mere costume elsewhere, you might find certain of them
again here. Most brave, high and pious-minded; beautiful too, and
radiant with good-nature, though of temper that will easily catch fire:
there is perhaps no nobler woman then living. And she fronts the roaring
elements in a truly grand feminine manner; as if Heaven itself and the
voice of Duty called her: "The Inheritances which my Fathers left me,
we will not part with these. Death, if it so must be; but not
dishonor:--Listen not to that thief in the night!" Maria Theresa has
not studied, at all, the History of the Silesian Duchies; she knows only
that her Father and Grandfather peaceably held them; it was not she
that sent out Seckendorf to ride 25,000 miles, or broke the heart of
Friedrich Wilhelm and his Household. Pity she had not complied with
Friedrich, and saved such rivers of bitterness to herself and mankind!
But how could she see to do it,--especially with little George at her
back, and abundance of money? This, for the present, is her method
of looking at the matter; this magnanimous, heroic, and occasionally
somewhat female one.

Her Husband, the Grand Duke, an inert, but good-tempered,
well-conditioned Duke after his sort, goes with her. Him we shall see
try various things; and at length take to banking and merchandise, and
even meal-dealing on the great scale. "Our Armies had most part of their
meal circuitously from him," says Friedrich, of times long subsequent.
Now as always he follows loyally his Wife's lead, never she his: Wife
being, intrinsically as well as extrinsically, the better man, what
other can he do?--Of compliance with Friedrich in this Court, there is
practically no hope till after a great deal of beating have enlightened
it. Out of deference to George and his ardors, they pretend some
intention that way; and are "willing to bargain, your Excellency;"--no
doubt of it, provided only the price were next to nothing!

And so, while the watchful edacious Hyndford is doing his best at
Strehlen, poor Robinson, blown into triple activity, corresponds in
a boundless zealous manner from Vienna; and at last takes to flying
personally between Strehlen and Vienna; praying the inexorable young
Queen to comply a little, and then the inexorable young King to be
satisfied with imaginary compliance; and has a breathless time of it
indeed. His Despatches, passionately long-winded, are exceedingly stiff
reading to the like of us. O reader, what things have to be read and
carefully forgotten; what mountains of dust and ashes are to be dug
through, and tumbled down to Orcus, to disengage the smallest fraction
of truly memorable! Well if, in ten cubic miles of dust and ashes, you
discover the tongue of a shoe-buckle that has once belonged to a man
in the least heroic; and wipe your brow, invoking the supernal and
the infernal gods. My heart's desire is to compress these Strehlen
Diplomatic horse-dealings into the smallest conceivable bulk. And yet
how much that is not metal, that is merely cinders, has got through:
impossible to prevent,--may the infernal gods deal with it, and reduce
Dryasdust to limits, one day! Here, however, are important Public News
transpiring through the old Gazetteers:--

"MUNCHEN, JULY 1st [or in effect a few days later, when the Letters
DATED July 1st had gone through their circuitous formalities], [Adelung,
ii. 421.] Karl Albert Kur-Baiern publicly declares himself Candidate for
the Kaisership; as, privately, he had long been rumored and believed to
be. Kur-Baiern, they say, has of militias and regulars together about
30,000 men on foot, all posted in good places along the Austrian
Frontier; and it is commonly thought, though little credible at Vienna,
that he intends invading Austria as well as contesting the Election. To
which the Vienna Hofrath answers in the style of 'Pshaw!'

"VERSAILLES, 11th JULY. Extraordinary Council of State; Belleisle being
there, home from Frankfurt, to take final orders, and get official
fiat put upon his schemes. 'All the Princes of the Blood and all the
Marechals of France attend;' question is, How the War is to be, nay,
Whether War is to be at all,--so contingent is the French-Prussian
Bargain, signed five weeks ago. Old Fleury, to give freedom of
consultation and vote, quits the room. Some are of opinion, one Prince
of the Blood emphatically so, That Pragmatic Sanction should be kept, at
least War AGAINST it be avoided. But the contrary opinion triumphs, King
himself being strongly with it; Belleisle to be supreme in field and
cabinet; shall execute, like a kind of Dictator or Vice-Majesty, by his
own magnificent talent, those magnificent devisings of his, glorious to
France and to the King. [Ib. 417, 418; see also Baumer, p. 104 (if you
can for his date, which is given in OLD STYLE as if it were in New; a
very eclipsing method!).] These many months, the French have been arming
with their whole might. The Vienna people hear now, That an 'Army of
40,000 is rumored to be coming,' or even two Armies, 40,000 each; but
will not imagine that this is certain, or that it can be seriously meant
against their high House, precious to gods and men. Belleisle having
perfected the multiplex Army details, rushes back to Frankfurt and his
endless Diplomatic businesses (July 25th): Armies to be on actual march
by the 10th of August coming. 'During this Versailles visit, he had such
a crowd of Officers and great people paying court to him as was like the
King's Levee itself.' [Barbier, ii. 305.]

"PASSAU, 31st JULY. Passau is the Frontier Austrian City on the
Donau (meeting of the Inn and Donau Valleys); a place of considerable
strength, and a key or great position for military purposes. Austrian,
or Quasi-Austrian; for, like Salzburg, it has a Bishop claiming some
imaginary sovereignties, but always holds with Austria. July 31st, early
in the morning, a Bavarian Exciseman ('Salt-Inspector') applied at the
gate of Passau for admission; gate was opened;--along with the Exciseman
'certain peasants' (disguised Bavarian soldiers) pushed in; held the
gate choked, till General Minuzzi, Karl Albert's General, with horse,
foot, cannon, who had been lurking close by, likewise pushed in; and at
once seized the Town. Town speedily secured, Minuzzi informs the Bishop,
who lives in his Schloss of Oberhaus (strongish place on a Hill-top,
other side the Donau), That he likewise, under pain of bombardment,
must admit garrison. The poor Bishop hesitates; but, finding bombardment
actually ready for him, yields in about two hours. Karl Albert publishes
his Manifesto, 'in forty-five pages folio' [Adelung, ii. 426.] (to
the effect, 'All Austria mine; or as good as all,--if I liked!'); and
fortifies himself in Passau. 'Insidious, nefarious!' shrieks Austria,
in Counter-Manifesto; calculates privately it will soon settle Karl
Albert,--'Unless, O Heavens, France with Prussia did mean to back
him!'--and begins to have misgivings, in spite of itself."

Misgivings, which soon became fatal certainties. Robinson records,
doubtless on sure basis, though not dating it, a curious piece of
stage-effect in the form of reality; "On hearing, beyond possibility of
doubt, that Prussia, France, and Bavaria had combined, the whole Aulic
Council," Vienna Hofrath in a body, "fell back into their chairs [and
metaphorically into Robinson's arms] like dead men!" [Raumer, p. 104.]
Sat staring there;--the wind struck out of them, but not all the folly
by a great deal. Now, however, is Robinson's time to ply them.



EXCELLENCY ROBINSON HAS AUDIENCE OF FRIEDRICH (Camp of Strehlen, 7th
August, 1741).

By unheard-of entreaties and conjurations, aided by these strokes of
fate, Robinson has at length extorted from his Queen of Hungary, and her
wise Hofraths, something resembling a phantasm of compliance; with which
he hurries to Breslau and Hyndford; hoping against hope that Friedrich
will accept it as a reality. Gets to Breslau on the 3d of August; thence
to Strehlen, consulting much with Hyndford upon this phantasm of a
compliance. Hyndford looks but heavily upon it;--from us, in this place,
far be it to look at all:--alas, this is the famed Scene they Two had at
Strehlen with Friedrich, on Monday, August 7th; reported by the faithful
pen of Robinson, and vividly significant of Friedrich, were it but
compressed to the due pitch. We will give it in the form of Dialogue:
the thing of itself falls naturally into the Dramatic, when the flabby
parts are cut away;--and was perhaps worthier of a Shakspeare than of a
Robinson, all facts of it considered, in the light they have since got.

Scene is Friedrich's Tent, Prussian Camp in the neighborhood of the
little Town of Strehlen: time 11 o'clock A.M. Personages of it, Two
British subjects in the high Diplomatic line: ponderous Scotch Lord
of an edacious gloomy countenance; florid Yorkshire Gentleman with
important Proposals in his pocket. Costume, frizzled peruke powdered;
frills, wrist-frills and other; shoe-buckles, flapped waistcoat,
court-coat of antique cut and much trimming: all this shall be conceived
by the reader. Tight young Gentleman in Prussian military uniform,
blue coat, buff breeches, boots; with alert flashing eyes, and careless
elegant bearing, salutes courteously, raising his plumed hat. Podewils
in common dress, who has entered escorting the other Two, sits rather to
rearward, taking refuge beside the writing apparatus.--First passages
of the Dialogue I omit: mere pickeerings and beatings about the bush,
before we come to close quarters. For Robinson, the florid Yorkshire
Gentleman, is charged to offer,--what thinks the reader?--two million
guilders, about 200,000 pounds, if that will satisfy this young military
King with the alert Eyes!

ROBINSON.... "'Two hundred thousand pounds sterling, if your Majesty
will be pleased to retire out of Silesia, and renounce this enterprise!'

KING. "'Retire out of Silesia? And for money? Do you take me for a
beggar! Retire out of Silesia, which has cost me so much treasure and
blood in the conquest of it? No, Monsieur, no; that is not to be thought
of! If you have no better proposals to make, it is not worth while
talking.' These words were accompanied with threatening gestures and
marks of great anger;" considerably staggering to the Two Diplomatic
British gentlemen, and of evil omen to Robinson's phantasm of a
compliance. Robinson apologetically hums and hahs, flounders through the
bad bit of road as he can; flounderingly indicates that he has more to
offer.

KING. "'Let us see then (VOYONS), what is there more?'

ROBINSON (with preliminary flourishings and flounderings, yet
confidently, as now tabling his best card).... "'Permitted to offer
your Majesty the whole of Austrian Guelderland; lies contiguous to your
Majesty's Possessions in the Rhine Country; important completion of
these: I am permitted to say, the whole of Austrian Guelderland!'
Important indeed: a dirty stripe of moorland (if you look in Busching),
about equivalent to half a dozen parishes in Connemara.

KING. "'What do you mean? [turning to Podewils]--QU'EST-CE QUE NOUS
MANQUE DE TOUTE LA GUELDRE (How much of Guelderland is theirs, and not
ours already)?'

PODEWILS. "'Almost nothing (PRESQUE RIEN).

KING (to Robinson). "'VOICI ENCORE DE GUEUSERIES (more rags and rubbish
yet)! QUOI, such a paltry scraping (BICOQUE) as that, for all my just
claims in Silesia? Monsieur--!' His Majesty's indignation increased
here, all the more as I kept a profound silence during his hot
expressions, and did not speak at all except to beg his Majesty's
reflection upon what I had said.--'Reflection?'" asks the King, with
eyes dangerous to behold;--"My Lord," continues Robinson, heavily
narrative, "his contempt of what I had said was so great," kicking his
boot through Guelderland and the guilders as the most contemptible of
objects, "and was expressed in such violent terms, that now, if ever (as
your Lordship perceives), it was time to make the last effort;" play our
trump-card down at once; "a moment longer was not to be lost, to hinder
the King from dismissing us;" which sad destiny is still too probable,
after the trump-card. Trump-card is this:

ROBINSON.... "'The whole Duchy of Limburg, your Majesty! It is a Duchy
which--' I extolled the Duchy to the utmost, described it in the most
favorable terms; and added, that 'the Elector Palatine [old Kur-Pfalz,
on one occasion] had been willing to give the whole Duchy of Berg for
it.'

PODEWILS. "'Pardon, Monsieur: that is not so; the contrary of so;
Kur-Pfalz was not ready to give Berg for it!'--[We are not deep in
German History, we British Diplomatic gentlemen, who are squandering,
now and of old, so much money on it! The Aulic Council, "falls into
our arms like dead men;" but it is certain the Elector Palatine was not
ready to give Berg in that kind of exchange.]

KING. "'It is inconceivable to me how Austria should dare to think of
such a thing. Limburg? Are there not solemn Engagements upon Austria,
sanctioned and again sanctioned by all the world, which render every
inch of ground in the Netherlands inalienable?'

ROBINSON. "'Engagements good as against the French, your Majesty.
Otherwise the Barrier Treaty, confirmed at Utrecht, was for our behoof
and Holland's.'

KING. "'That is your present interpretation, But the French pretend it
was an arrangement more in their favor than against them.'

ROBINSON. "'Your Majesty, by a little Engineer Art, could render Limburg
impregnable to the French or others.'

KING. "'Have not the least desire to aggrandize myself in those parts,
or spend money fortifying there. Useless to me. Am not I fortifying
Brieg and Glogau? These are enough: for one who intends to live well
with his neighbors. Neither the Dutch nor the French have offended me;
nor will I them by acquisitions in the Netherlands. Besides, who would
guarantee them?'

ROBINSON. "'The Proposal is to give guarantees at once.'

KING. "'Guarantees! Who minds or keeps guarantees in this age? Has not
France guaranteed the Pragmatic Sanction; has not England? Why don't
you all fly to the Queen's succor?'"--Robinson, inclined to pout, if he
durst, intimates that perhaps there will be succorers one day yet.

KING. "'And pray, Monsieur, who are they?'

ROBINSON. "'Hm, hm, your Majesty.... Russia, for example, which Power
with reference to Turkey--'

KING. "'Good, Sir, good (BEAU, MONSIEUR, BEAU), the Russians! It is not
proper to explain myself; but I have means for the Russians' [a Swedish
War just coming upon Russia, to keep its hand in use; so diligent have
the French been in that quarter!].

ROBINSON (with some emphasis, as a Britannic gentleman). "'Russia is
not the only Power that has engagements with Austria, and that must keep
them too! So that, however averse to a breach--'

KING ("laying his finger on his nose," mark him;--aloud, and with such
eyes). "'No threats, Sir, if you please! No threats' ["in a loud voice,"
finger to nose, and with such eyes looking in upon me].

HYNDFORD (heavily coming to the rescue). "'Am sure his Excellency is
far from such meaning, Sire. His Excellency will advance nothing so very
contrary to his Instructions.'--Podewils too put in something proper" in
the appeasing way.

ROBINSON. "'Sire, I am not talking of what this Power or that means to
do; but of what will come of itself. To prophesy is not to threaten,
Sire! It is my zeal for the Public that brought me hither; and--'

KING. "'The Public will be much obliged to you, Monsieur! But hear me.
With respect to Russia, you know how matters stand. From the King of
Poland I have nothing to fear. As for the King of England,--he is my
relation [dear Uncle, in the Pawnbroker sense], he is my all: if he
don't attack me, I won't him. And if he do, the Prince of Anhalt [Old
Dessauer out at Gottin yonder] will take care of him.'

ROBINSON. "'The common news now is [rumor in Diplomatic circles, rather
below the truth this time], your Majesty, after the 12th of August, will
join the French. [King looks fixedly at him in silence.] Sire, I venture
to hope not! Austria prefers your friendship; but if your Majesty
disdain Austria's advances, what is it to do? Austria must throw
itself entirely into the hands of France,--and endeavor to outbid your
Majesty.' [King quite silent.]

"King was quite silent upon this head," says Robinson, reporting:
silence, guesses Robinson, founded most probably upon his "consciousness
of guilt"--what I, florid Yorkshire Gentleman, call GUILT, as being
against the Cause of Liberty and us!"From time to time he threw out
remarks on the advantageousness of his situation:--"

KING.... "'At the head of such an Army, which the Enemy has already
made experience of; and which is ready for the Enemy again, if he have
appetite! With the Country which alone I am concerned with, conquered
and secured behind me; a Country that alone lies convenient to me; which
is all I want, which I now have; which I will and must keep! Shall I be
bought out of this country? Never! I will sooner perish in it, with all
my troops. With what face shall I meet my Ancestors, if I abandon my
right, which they have transmitted to me? My first enterprise; and to
be given up lightly?'"--With more of the like sort; which Friedrich,
in writing of it long after, seems rather ashamed of; and would fain
consider to have been mock fustian, provoked by the real fustian of Sir
Thomas Robinson, "who negotiated in a wordy high-droning way, as if he
were speaking in Parliament," says Friedrich (a Friedrich not taken
with that style of eloquence, and hoping he rather quizzed it than was
serious with it, [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ ii. 84.]--though Robinson and
Hyndford found in him no want of vehement seriousness, but rather the
reverse!)--He concludes: "Have I need of Peace? Let those who need it
give me what I want; or let them fight me again, and be beaten again.
Have not they given whole Kingdoms to Spain? [Naples, at one swoop, to
the Termagant; as broken glass, in that Polish-Election freak!] And to
me they cannot spare a few trifling Principalities? If the Queen does
not now grant me all I require, I shall in four weeks demand Four
Principalities more! [Nay, I now do it, being in sibylline tune.] I
now demand the whole of Lower Silesia, Breslau included;--and with that
Answer you can return to Vienna.'

ROBINSON. "'With that Answer: is your Majesty serious?'

KING. "'With that.'" A most vehement young King; no negotiating with
him, Sir Thomas! It is like negotiating for the Sibyl's Books: the
longer you bargain, the higher he will rise. In four weeks, time he will
demand Four Principalities more; nay, already demands them, the whole of
Lower Silesia and Breslau. A precious negotiation I have made of it! Sir
Thomas, wide-eyed, asks a second time:--

ROBINSON. "'Is that your Majesty's deliberate answer?'

KING. "'Yes, I say! That is my Answer; and I will never give another.'

HYNDFORD and ROBINSON (much flurried, to Podewils). "'Your Excellency,
please to comprehend, the Proposals from Vienna were--'

KING. "'Messieurs, Messieurs, it is of no use even to think of it.' And
taking off his hat," slightly raising his hat, as salutation and finale,
"he retired precipitately behind the curtain of the interior corner of
the tent," says the reporter: EXIT King!

ROBINSON (totally flurried, to Podewils). "'Your Excellency, France will
abandon Prussia, will sacrifice Prussia to self-interest.'

PODEWILS. "'No, no! France will not deceive us; we have not deceived
France.'" (SCENE CLOSES; CURTAIN FALLS.) [State-Paper Office (Robinson
to Harrington, Breslau, 9th August, 1741); Raumer, pp. 106-110. Compare
_OEuvres de Frederic,_ ii. 84; and Valori, i. 119, 122.]

The unsuccessfulest negotiation well imaginable by a public man.
Strehlen, Monday, 7th August, 1741:--Friedrich has vanished into the
interior of his tent; and the two Diplomatic gentlemen, the wind struck
out of them in this manner, remain gazing at one another. Here truly is
a young Royal gentleman that knows his own mind, while so many do not.
Unspeakable imbroglio of negotiations, mostly insane, welters over all
the Earth; the Belleisles, the Aulic Councils, the British Georges,
heaping coil upon coil: and here, notably, in that now so extremely
sordid murk of wiggeries, inane diplomacies and solemn deliriums, dark
now and obsolete to all creatures, steps forth one little Human
Figure, with something of sanity in it: like a star, like a gleam
of steel,--shearing asunder your big balloons, and letting out their
diplomatic hydrogen;--salutes with his hat, "Gentlemen, Gentlemen, it
is of no use!" and vanishes into the interior of his tent. It is to
Excellency Robinson, among all the sons of Adam then extant, that we owe
this interesting Passage of History,--authentic glimpse, face to face,
of the young Friedrich in those extraordinary circumstances: every
feature substantially as above, and recognizable for true. Many
Despatches his Excellency wrote in this world,--sixty or eighty volumes
of them still left,--but among them is this One: the angriest of mankind
cannot say that his Excellency lived and embassied quite in vain!

The Two Britannic Gentlemen, both on that distressing Monday and the day
following, had the honor to dine with the King: who seemed in exuberant
spirits; cutting and bantering to right and left; upon the Court of
Vienna, among other topics, in a way which I Robinson "will not repeat
to your Lordship." Bade me, for example, "As you pass through Neisse,
make my compliments to Marshal Neipperg; and you can say, Excellency
Robinson, that I hope to have the pleasure of calling, one of these
days!"--Podewils, who was civil, pressed us much to stay over Wednesday,
the 9th. "On Thursday is to be a Grand Review, one of the finest
military sights; to which the Excellencies from Breslau, one and all,
are coming out." But we, having our Despatches and Expresses on hand,
pleaded business, and declined, in spite of Podewils's urgencies. And
set off for Breslau, Wednesday, morning,--meeting various Excellencies,
by degrees all the Excellencies, on the road for that Review we had
heard of.

Readers must accept this Robinsoniad as the last of Friedrich's
Diplomatic performances at Strehlen, which in effect it nearly was; and
from these instances imagine his way in such things. Various Letters
there are, to Jordan principally, some to Algarotti; both of whom he
still keeps at Breslau, and sends for, if there is like to be an hour of
leisure. The Letters indicate cheerfulness of humor, even levity, in the
Writer; which is worth noting, in this wild clash of things now tumbling
round him, and looking to him as its centre: but they otherwise, though
heartily and frankly written, are, to Jordan and us, as if written
from the teeth outward; and throw no light whatever either on things
befalling, or on Friedrich's humor under them. Reading diligently, we do
notice one thing, That the talk about "fame (GLOIRE)" has died out. Not
the least mention now of GLOIRE;--perception now, most probably, that
there are other things than "GLOIRE" to be had by taking arms; and that
War is a terribly grave thing, lightly as one may go into it at
first! This small inference we do negatively draw, from the Friedrich
Correspondence of those months: and except this, and the levity of humor
noticeable, we practically get no light whatever from it; the practical
soul and soul's business of Friedrich being entirely kept veiled there,
as usual.

And veiled, too, in such a way that you do not notice any veil,--the
young King being, as we often intimate, a master in this art. Which
useful circumstance has done him much ill with readers and mankind. For
if you intend to interest readers,--that is to say, idle neighbors, and
fellow-creatures in need of gossip,--there is nothing like unveiling
yourself: witness Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and many other poor waste
creatures, going off in self-conflagration, for amusement of the parish,
in that manner. But may not a man have something other on hand with his
Existence than that of "setting fire to it [such the process terribly
IS], to show the people a fine play of colors, and get himself
applauded, and pathetically blubbered over?" Alas, my friends!--

It is certain there was seldom such a life-element as this of
Friedrich's in Summer, 1741. Here is the enormous jumbling of a World
broken loose; boiling as in very chaos; asking of him, him more than
any other, "How? What?" Enough to put GLOIRE out of his head; and awaken
thoughts,--terrors, if you were of apprehensive turn! Surely no young
man of twenty-nine more needed all the human qualities than
Friedrich now. The threatenings, the seductions, big Belleisle
hallucinations,--the perils to you infinite, if you MISS the road.
Friedrich did not miss it, as is well known; he managed to pick it out
from that enormous jumble of the elements, and victoriously arrived by
it, he alone of them all. Which is evidence of silent or latent faculty
in him, still more wonderful than the loud-resounding ones of which the
world has heard. Probably there was not, in his history, any chapter
more significant of human faculty than this, which is not on record at
all.



Chapter III. -- GRAND REVIEW AT STREHLEN: NEIPPERG TAKES AIM AT BRESLAU,
BUT ANOTHER HITS IT.

A day or two before that famous Audience of Hyndford and Robinson's,
Neipperg had quitted his impregnable Camp at Neisse, and taken the
field again; in the hope of perhaps helping Robinson's Negotiation by an
inverse method. Should Robinson's offers not prove attractive enough,
as is to be feared, a push from behind may have good effects.
Neipperg intends to have a stroke on Breslau; to twitch Breslau out of
Friedrich's hands, by a private manoeuvre on new resources that have
offered themselves. [_ Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 982, and ii. 227.]

In Breslau, which is by great majority Protestant in creed and warmly
Prussian in temper, there has been no oppression or unfair usage heard
of to any class of persons; and certainly in the matter of Protestant
and Catholic, there has been perfect equality observed. True, the change
from favor and ascendency to mere equality, is not in itself welcome to
human creatures:--one conceives, for various reasons of lower and higher
nature, a minority of discontented individuals in Breslau, zealous for
their creed and old perquisites sacred and profane; who long in secret,
sometimes vocally to one another, for the good old times,--when souls
were not liable to perish wholesale, and people guilty only of loyalty
and orthodoxy to be turned out of their offices on suspicion. Friedrich
says, it was mainly certain zealous Old Ladies of Quality who went into
this adventure; and from whispering to one another, got into speaking,
into meeting in one another's houses for the purpose of concerting
and contriving. [_OEuvres,_ ii. 82, 83.] Zealous Old Ladies
of Quality,--these we consider were the Talking-Apparatus or
Secret-Parliament of the thing: but it is certain one or two Official
Gentlemen (Syndic Guzmar for instance, and others NOT yet become
Ex-Official) had active hand in it, and furnished the practical ideas.

Continual Correspondence there was with Vienna, by those Old Ladies;
Guzmar and the others shy of putting pen to paper, and only doing it
where indispensable. Zealous Addresses go to her Hungarian Majesty, "Oh,
may the Blessed Virgin assist your Majesty!"--accompanied, it is said,
with Subscriptions of money (poor old souls); and what is much more
dangerous and feasible, there goes prompt notice to Neipperg of
everything the Prussian Army undertakes, and the Postscript always,
"Come and deliver us, your Excellency." Of these latter Documents, I
have heard of some with Syndic Guzmar's and other Official hands to
them. Generally such things can, through accidental Pandour channels,
were there no other, easily reach Neipperg; though they do not always.
Enough, could Neipperg appear at the Gates of Breslau, in some concerted
night-hour, or push out suitable Detachment on forced-march that
way,--it is evident to him he would be let in; might smother the few
Prussians that are in the Dom Island, and get possession of the Enemy's
principal Magazine and the Metropolis of the Province. Might not the
Enemy grow more tractable to Robinson's seductions in such case?

Neipperg marches from Neisse (1st-6th August) with his whole Army; first
some thirty miles westward up the right or southern bank of the
Neisse; then crosses the Neisse, and circles round to northward, giving
Friedrich wide room: [Orlich, i. 130, 133.] that night of Robinson's
Audience, when Friedrich was so merry at dinner, Neipperg was engaged
in crossing the River; the second night after, Neipperg lay encamped and
intrenched at Baumgarten (old scene of Friedrich's Pandour Adventure),
while Hyndford and Robinson had got back to Breslau. In another day
or so, he may hope to be within forced-march of Breslau, to detach
Feldmarschall Browne or some sharp head; and to do a highly considerable
thing?

Unluckily for Neipperg's Adventure, the Prussians had wind of it, some
time ago. They have got "a false Sister smuggled into that Old-Ladies'
Committee," who has duly reported progress; nay they have intercepted
something in Syndic Guzmar's own hand: and everything is known to
Friedrich. The Protestant population, and generally the practical quiet
part of the Breslauers, are harassed with suspicion of some such thing,
but can gain no certainty, nor understand what to do. Protestants
especially, who have been so zealous, "who were seen dropping down on
the streets to pray, while the muffled thunder came from Mollwitz that
day," [Ranke, ii. 289.]--fancy how it would now be, were the tables
suddenly turned, and indignant Orthodoxy made supreme again, with memory
fresh! But, in fact, there is no danger whatever to them. Schwerin
has orders about Breslau; Schwerin and the Young Dessauer are maturely
considering how to manage.

Readers recollect how Podewils pressed the Two Britannic Excellencies to
stay in Strehlen a day or two longer: "Grand Review, with festivities,
just on hand; whole of the Foreign Ministers in Breslau invited out to
see it,"--though Hyndford and Robinson would not consent; but left on
the 9th, meeting the others at different points of the road. Next
day, Thursday, 10th August, was in fact a great day at Strehlen; grand
muster, manoeuvring of cavalry above all, whom Friedrich is delighted to
find so perfect in their new methods; riding as if they were centaurs,
horse and man one entity; capable of plunging home, at full gallop, in
coherent masses upon an enemy, and doing some good with him. "Neipperg's
Croat-people, and out-pickets on the distant Hill-sides, witnessed
these manoeuvres," [Ranke, ii. 288.] I know not with what criticism.
Furthermore, about noon-time, there was heard (mark it, reader) a
distant cannon-shot, one and no more, from the Northern side; which gave
his Majesty a lively pleasure, though he treated it as nothing. All the
Foreign Ministers were on the ground; doubtless with praises, so far as
receivable; and in the afternoon came festivities not a few. A great day
in Strehlen:--but in Breslau a much greater; which explained, to our Two
Excellencies, why Podewils had been so pressing!

August 10th, at six in the morning, Schwerin, and under him the Young
Dessauer,--who had arrived in the Southwestern suburbs of Breslau
overnight, with 8,000 foot and horse, and had posted themselves in a
vigilant Anti-Neipperg manner there, and laid all their plans,--appear
at the Nicolai Gate; and demand, in the common way, transit for their
regiments and baggages: "bound Northward," as appears; "to Leubus,"
where something of Pandour sort has fallen out. So many troops or
companies at a time, that is the rule; one quantity of companies you
admit; then close and bolt, till it have marched across and out at the
opposite Gate; after which, open again for a second lot. But in this
case,--owing to accident (very unusual) of a baggage-wagon breaking
down, and people hurrying to help it forward,--the whole regiment gets
in, escorted as usual by the Town-guard. Whole regiment; and marches,
not straight through; but at a certain corner strikes off leftward to
the Market-place; where, singular to say, it seems inclined to pause
and rearrange itself a little. Nay, more singular still, other
regiments (owing to like accidents), from other Gates, join it;--and--in
fact--"Herr Major of the Town-guard, in the King's name, you are
required to ground arms!" What can the Town Major do; Prussian
grenadiers, cannoneers, gravely environing him? He sticks his sword into
the scabbard, an Ex-Town Major; and Breslau City is become Friedrich's,
softly like a movement during drill. [_Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 982, n.
227, 268; Adelung, ii. 439; Stenzel, iv. 152.]

Not the least mistake occurred. Cannon with case-shot planted themselves
in all the thoroughfares, Horse-patrols went circulating everywhere;
Town-arsenal, gates, walls, are laid hold of; Town-guards all disarmed,
rather "with laughter on their part" than otherwise: "Majesty perhaps
will give us muskets of his own;--well!" The operation altogether
did not last above an hour-and-half, and nobody's skin got scratched.
Towards 9 A.M. Schwerin summoned the Town Dignitaries to their Rathhaus
to swear fealty; who at once complied; and on his stepping out with
proposal, to the general population, of "a cheer for King Friedrich,
Duke of Lower Silesia," the poor people rent the skies with their
"Friedrich and Silesia forever!" which they repeated, I think, seven
times. Upon which Schwerin fired off his signal-cannon, pointing to the
South; where other posts and cannons took up the sound, and pushed it
forward, till, as we noticed, it got to Friedrich in few minutes, on the
review-ground at Strehlen; right welcome to him, among the manoeuvrings
there. Protestant Breslau or cordwainer Doblin cannot lament such a
result; still less dare the devout Old Ladies of Quality openly lament,
who are trembling to the heart, poor old creatures, though no evil came
of it to them; penitent, let off for the fright; checking even their
aspirations henceforth.

Syndic Guzmar and the peccant Officials being summoned out to Strehlen,
it had been asked of them, "Do you know this Letter?" Upon which
they fell on their knees, "ACH IHRO MAJESTAT!" unable to deny their
handwriting; yet anxious to avoid death on the scaffold, as Friedrich
said was usual under such behavior; and were sent home, after a few
hours of arrest. [Orlich, i. 134; _Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 228.]
Schwerin (as King's substitute till the King himself one day arrive)
continued to take the Homaging, and to make the many new arrangements
needful. All which went off in a soft and pleasantly harmonious
manner;--only the Jesuits scrupling a little to swear as yet; and
getting gently sent their ways, with revenues stopt in consequence.
Otherwise the swearing, which lasted for several days, was to appearance
a joyful process, and on the part of the general population an
enthusiastic one, "ES LEBE KONIG FRIEDRICH!" rising to the welkin
with insatiable emphasis, seven times over, on the least signal given.
Neipperg's Adventure, and Orthodox Female Parliament, have issued in
this sadly reverse manner.

Robinson and Hyndford have to witness these phenomena; Robinson to shoot
off for Presburg again, with the worst news in the world. Queen and
Hofraths have been waiting in agony of suspense, "Will Friedrich bargain
on those gentle terms, and help us with 100,000 men?" Far from it, my
friends; how far! "My most important intelligence," writes the Russian
Envoy there, some days ago, ["5 August, 1741," not said to whom (in
Ranke, ii. 324 n.).] "is, that a Bavarian War has broken out, that
Kur-Baiern is in Passau. God grant that Monsieur Robinson may succeed in
his negotiation! All here are in the completest irresolution, and total
inactivity, till Monsieur Robinson return, or at least send news of
himself."



Chapter IV. -- FRIEDRICH TAKES THE FIELD AGAIN, INTENT ON HAVING NEISSE.

This Breslau Adventure, which had yielded Friedrich so important
an acquisition, was furthermore the cause of ending these Strehlen
inactivities, and of recommencing field operations. August 11th,
Neipperg, provoked by the grievous news just come from Breslau, pushes
suddenly forward on Schweidnitz, by way of consolation; Schweidnitz,
not so strong as it might be made, where the Prussians have a principal
Magazine: "One might at least seize that?" thinks Neipperg, in his
vexed humor. But here too Friedrich was beforehand with him; broke out,
rapidly enough, to Reichenbach, westward, which bars the Neipperg
road to Schweidnitz: upon which,--or even before which (on rumor of it
coming, which was not YET true),--Neipperg, half done with his
first day's march, called halt; prudently turned back, and hastened,
Baumgarten way, to his strong Camp at Frankenstein again. His hope in
the Schweidnitz direction had lasted only a few hours; a hope springing
on the mere spur of pique, soon recognizable by him as futile; and now
anxieties for self-preservation had succeeded it on Neipperg's part.
For now Friedrich actually advances on him, in a menacing manner, hardly
hoping Neipperg will fight; but determined to have done with the Neisse
business, in spite of strong camps and cunctations, if it be possible.
[Orlich, i. 137, 138.]

It was August 16th, when Friedrich stirred out of Strehlen; August 21st,
when he encamped at Reichenbach. Till September 7th, he kept manoeuvring
upon Neipperg, who counter-manoeuvred with vigilance, good judgment,
and would not come to action: September 7th, Friedrich, weary of these
hagglings, dashed off for Neisse itself, hoped to be across Neisse
River, and be between Neisse Town and Neipperg, before Neipperg could
get up. There would then be no method of preventing the Siege of Neisse,
except by a Battle: so Friedrich had hoped; but Neipperg again proved
vigilant.

Accordingly, September 11th, Friedrich's Vanguard was actually across
the Neisse; had crossed at a place called Woitz, and had there got Two
Pontoon Bridges ready, when Friedrich, in the evening, came up with
the main Army, intending to cross;--and was astonished to find Neipperg
taking up position, in intricate ground, near by, on the opposite side!
Ground so intricate, hills, bogs, bushes of wood, and so close upon the
River, there was no crossing possible; and Friedrich's Vanguard had
to be recalled. Two days of waiting, of earnest ocular study; no
possibility visible. On the third day, Friedrich, gathering in his
pontoons overnight, marched off, down stream: Neisse-wards, but on the
left or north bank of the River; passed Neisse Town (the River between
him and it); and encamped at Gross Neundorf, several miles from Neipperg
and the River. Neipperg, at an equal step, has been wending towards his
old Camp, which lies behind Neisse, between Neisse and the Hills: there,
a river in front, dams and muddy inundations all round him, begirt with
plentiful Pandours, Neipperg waits what Friedrich will attempt from
Gross Neundorf.

From Gross Neundorf, Friedrich persists twelve days (13th-25th
September), studying, endeavoring; mere impossibility ahead. And by this
time (what is much worth noting), Hyndford, silently quitting Breslau,
has got back to these scenes of war, occasionally visible in Friedrich's
Camp again;--on important mysterious business; which will have results.
Valori also is here in Camp; these two Excellencies jealously eying one
another; both of them with teeth rather on edge,--Europe having suddenly
got into such a plunge (as if the highest mountains were falling
into the deepest seas) since Friedrich began this Neipperg problem of
his;--in which, after twelve days, he sees mere impossibility ahead.

On the twelfth day, Friedrich privately collects himself for a new
method: marches, soon after midnight, [26th September, 2 A.M.: Orlich,
i. 144.] fifteen miles down the River (which goes northward in this
part, as the reader may remember); crosses, with all his appurtenances,
unmolested; and takes camp a few miles inland, or on the right bank, and
facing towards Neisse again. He intends to be in upon Neipperg front the
rear quarter; and cut him off from Mahren and his daily convoys of food.
"Daily food cut off,--the thickest-skinned rhinoceros, the wildest lion,
cannot stand that: here, for Neipperg, is one point on which all his
embankments and mud-dams will not suffice him!" thinks Friedrich.
Certain preliminary operations, and military indispensabilities, there
first are for Friedrich,--Town of Oppeln to be got, which commands the
Oder, our rearward highway; Castle of Friedland, and the country between
Oder and Neisse Rivers:--while these preliminary things are being
done (September 28th-October 3d), Friedrich in person gradually pushes
forward towards Neipperg, reconnoitring, bickering with Croats: October
3d, preliminaries done, Neipperg's rear had better look to itself.

Neipperg, well enough seeing what was meant, has by this time come out
of his mud-dams and impregnabilities; and advanced a few miles towards
Friedrich. Neipperg lies now encamped in the Hamlet of Griesau, a little
way behind Steinau,--poor Steinau, which the reader saw on fire one
night, when Friedrich and we were in those parts, in Spring last.
Friedrich's Camp is about five miles from Neipperg's on the other side
of Steinau. A tolerable champaign country; I should think, mostly in
stubble at this season. Nearly midway between these two Camps is a
pretty Schloss called Klein-Schnellendorf, occupied by Neipperg's Croats
just now, of which Prince Lobkowitz (he, if I remember, but it
matters nothing), an Austrian General of mark, far away at present, is
proprietor.

Friedrich's Oppeln preparations are about complete; and he intends to
advance straightway. "Hold, for Heaven's sake, your Majesty!" exclaims
Hyndford; getting hold of him one day (waylaying him, in fact; for it
is difficult, owing to Valori); "Wait, wait; I have just been to the--to
the Camp of Neipperg," silently gesticulates Hyndford: "Within a week
all shall be right, and not a drop of blood shed!" Friedrich answers, by
silence chiefly, to the effect, "Tush, tush;" but not quite negatively,
and does in effect wait. We had better give the snatch of Dialogue in
primitive authentic form; date is, Camp of Neundorf, September 22d:--

FRIEDRICH (pausing impatiently, on the way towards his tent). "'MILORD,
DE QUOI S'AGIT-IL A PRESENT (What is it now, then)?'

HYNDFORD. "'Should much desire to have some assurance from your Majesty
with regard to that neutrality of Hanover you were pleased to promise.'
All else is coming right; hastening towards beautiful settlement, were
that settled.

FRIEDRICH. "'Have not I great reason to be dissatisfied with your Court?
Britannic Majesty, as King of England and as Elector of Hanover, is
wonderful! Milord, when you say a thing is white, Schweichelt, the
Hanoverian Excellency, calls it black, and VICE VERSA. But I will do
your King no harm; none, I say! Follow me to dinner; dinner is cold by
this time; and we have made more than one person think of us. Swift!
[and EXIT].'" [Hyndford's Despatch, Neisse, 4th October, 1741.]

This is a strange motion on the part of Hyndford; but Friedrich,
severely silent to it, understands it very well; as readers soon will,
when they hear farther. But marvellous things have happened on the
sudden! In these three weeks, since the Camp of Strehlen broke up, there
have been such Events; strategic, diplomatic: a very avalanche of ruin,
hurling Austria down to the Nadir; of which it is now fit that the
reader have some faint conception, an adequate not being possible for
him or me:--

"AUGUST l5th, 1741. Robinson reappears in Presburg; and precious surely
are the news he brings to an Aulic Council fallen back in its chairs,
and staring with the wind struck out of it. Their expected Seizure
of Breslau gone heels over head, in that way; Friedrich imperiously
resolute, gleaming like the flash of steel amid these murky
imbecilities, and without the Cession of Silesia no Peace to be made
with him! And all this is as nothing, to news which arrives just on the
back of Robinson, from another quarter.

"AUGUST 15th-21st. French Army of 40,000 men, special Army of Belleisle,
sedulously equipt and completed, visibly crosses the Rhine at Fort Louis
(an Island Fortress in the Rhine, thirty miles below Strasburg; STONES
of it are from the old Schloss of Hagenau);--steps over deliberately
there; and on the sixth day is all on German ground. These troops, to
be commanded by Belleisle, so soon as he can join them, are to be the
Elector of Bavaria's troops, Kur-Baiern Generalissimo over Belleisle and
them; [_Fastes de Louis XV.,_ ii. 264.] and they are on rapid march to
join that ambitious Kurfurst, in his Passau Expedition; and probably
submerge Vienna itself.

"And what is this we hear farther, O Robinson, O Excellencies Hyndford,
Schweichelt and Company: That another French Army, of the same strength,
under Maillebois, has in the self-same days gone across the Lower Rhine
(at Kaisersworth, an hour's ride below Dusseldorf)! At Kaisersworth;
ostensibly for comforting and strengthening Kur-Koln (the lanky
Ecclesiastical Gentleman, Kur-Baiern's Brother), their excellent ally,
should anybody meddle with him. Ostensibly for this; but in reality to
keep the Sea-Powers, and especially George of England quiet. It marches
towards Osnabruck, this Maillebois Army; quarters itself up and down,
looking over into Hanover,--able to eat Hanover, especially if joined by
the Prussians and Old Leopold, at any moment.

"These things happen in this month of August, close upon the rear of
that steel-shiny scene in the Tent at Strehlen, where Friedrich lifted
his hat, saying, ''T is of no use, Messieurs!'--which was followed by
the seizure of Breslau the wrong way. Never came such a cataract of evil
news on an Aulic Council before. The poor proud people, all these months
they have been sitting torpid, helpless, loftily stupid, like dumb
idols; 'in flat despair,' as Robinson says once, 'only without the
strength to be desperate.'

"Sure enough the Sea-Powers are checkmated now. Let them make the least
attempt in favor of the Queen, if they dare. Holland can be overrun,
from Osnabruck quarter, at a day's warning. Little George has his
Hanoverians, his subsidized Hessians, Danes, in Hanover, his English on
Lexden Heath: let him come one step over the marches, Maillebois and
the Old Dessauer swallow him. It is a surprising stroke of
theatrical-practical Art; brought about, to old Fleury's sorrow, by
the genius of Belleisle, aud they say of Madame Chateauroux; enough to
strike certain Governing Persons breathless, for some time; and denotes
that the Universal Hurricane, or World-Tornado, has broken out. It is
not recorded of little George that he fell back in his chair, or stared
wider than usual with those fish-eyes: but he discerned well, glorious
little man, that here is left no shadow of a chance by fighting; that he
will have to sit stock-still, under awful penalties; and that if Maria
Theresa will escape destruction, she must make her peace with Friedrich
at any price."

This fine event, 80,000 French actually across the Rhine, happened
in the very days while Friedrich and Neipperg had got into wrestle
again,--Neipperg just off from that rash march for Schweidnitz, and
whirling back on rumor (15th August), while the first instalment of the
French were getting over. Friedrich must admit that the French fulfil
their promises so far. A week ago or more, they made the Swedes
declare War against Russia, as covenanted. War is actually declared,
at Stockholm, August 4th, the Faction of Hats prevailing over that of
Nightcaps, after terrible debates and efforts about the mere declaring
of it, as if that alone were the thing needed. We mentioned this War
already, and would not willingly again. One of the most contemptible
Wars ever declared or carried on; but useful to Friedrich, as keeping
Russia off his hands, at a critical time, and conclusively forbidding
help to Austria from that quarter.

Marechal de Belleisle, wrapt in Diplomatic and Electioneering business,
cannot personally take command for the present; but has excellent
lieutenants,--one of whom is Comte de Saxe, Moritz our old friend,
afterwards Marechal de Saxe. Among the finest French Armies, this of
Belleisle's is thought to be, that ever took the field: so many of
our Nobility in it, and what best Officers, Segurs, Saxes, future
Marechal's, we have. Army full of spirit and splendor; come to cut
Germany in four, and put France at last in its place in the Universe.
Here is courage, here is patriotism, of a sort. And if this is not the
good sort, the divinely pious, the humanly noble,--Fashionable Society
feels it to be so, and can hit no nearer. New-fashioned "Army of the
Oriflamme," one might call this of Belleisle's; kind of Sham-Sacred
French Army (quite in earnest, as it thinks);--led on, not by St. Denis
and the Virgin, but by Sun-god Belleisle and the Chateauroux, under
these sad new conditions! Which did not prosper as expected.

"Let the Holy German Reich take no offence," said this Army, eager to
conciliate: "we come as friends merely; our intentions charitable,
and that only. Bavarian Treaty of Nymphenburg (18th May last) binds us
especially, this time; Treaty of Westphalia binds us sacredly at all
times. Peaceable to you, nay brotherly, if only you will be peaceable!"
Which the poor Reich, all but Austria and the Sea-Powers, strove what it
could to believe.

On reaching the German shore out of Elsass, "every Officer put, the
Bavarian Colors, cockade of blue-and-white, on his hat;" [Adelung,
ii. 431.] a mere "Bavarian Army," don't you see? And the 40,000 wend
steadily forward through Schwaben eastward, till they can join Karl
Albert Kur-Baiern, who is Generalissimo, or has the name of such.
They march in Seven Divisions. Donauworth (a Town we used to know, in
Marlborough's time and earlier) is to be their first resting-point;
Ingolstadt their place-of-arms: will readers recollect those two
essential circumstances? To Donauworth is 250 miles; to Passau will be
180 more: five or six long weeks of marching. But after Donauworth
they are to go, the Infantry of them are, in boats; Horse, under
Saxe, marching parallel. Forward, ever forward, to Passau (properly to
Scharding, twelve miles up the Inn Valley, where his Bavarian Highness
is in Camp); and thence, under his Bavarian Highness, and in concert
with him, to pour forth, deluge-like, upon Linz, probably upon Vienna
itself, down the Donau Valley,--why not to Vienna itself, and ruin
Austria at one swoop? [Espagnac, _Histoire de Maurice Comte de Saxe_
(German Translation, Leipzig, 1774), i. 83:--an excellent military
compend. _Campagnes des Trois Marechaux_ (Maillebois, Broglio,
Belleisle: Armsterdam. 1773), ii. 53-56:--in nine handy little volumes
(or if we include the NOAILLES and the COIGNY set, making "CING
MARECHAUX," nineteen volumes in all, and a twentieth for INDEX);
consisting altogether of Official Letters (brief, rapid, meant for
business, NOT for printing in the Newspapers); which are elucidative
BEYOND bargain, and would even be amusing to read,--were the topic
itself worth one's time.]

The second or Maillebois French Army spreads itself, by degrees,
considerably over Westphalia;--straitened for forage, and otherwise
not the best of neighbors. But, in theory, in speech, this too was
abundantly conciliatory,--to the Dutch at least. "Nothing earthly in
view, nothing, ye magnanimous Dutch, except to lodge here in the most
peaceable manner, paying our way, and keep down disturbances that might
arise in these parts. That might arise; not from you, ye magnanimous
High Mightinesses, how far from it! Nor will we meddle with one broken
brick of your respectable Barrier, or Barrier Treaty, which is sacred
to us, or do you the shadow of an injury. No; a thousand times, upon
our honor, No!" For brevity's sake, I lend them that locution, "No, a
thousand times,"--and in actual arithmetic, I should think there are
at least four or five hundred times of it,--in those extinct Diplomatic
Eloquences of Excellency Fenelon and the other French;--vaguely
counting, in one's oppressed imagination, during the Two Years that
ensue. For the Dutch lazily believed, or strove to believe, this No of
Fenelon's; and took an obstinate laggard sitting posture, in regard
to Pragmatic Sanction; whereby the task of "hoisting" them (as above
hinted), which fell upon a certain King, became so famous in Diplomatic
History.

Imagination may faintly picture what a blow this advent of Maillebois
was to his Britannic Majesty, over in Herrenhausen yonder! He has had
of Danes six thousand, of Hessians six, of Hanoverians sixteen,--in all
some 30,000 men, on foot here since Spring last, camping about (in two
formidable Camps at this moment); not to mention the 6,000 of English on
Lexden Heath, eager to be shipped across, would Parliament permit; and
now--let him stir in any direction if he dare. Camp of Gottin like a
drawn sword at one's throat (at one's Hanover) from the east; and lo,
here a twin fellow to it gleaming from the south side! Maillebois
can walk into the throat of Hanover at a day's warning. And such was
actually the course proposed by Maillebois's Government, more than
once, in these weeks, had not Friedrich dissuaded and forbidden. It is
a strangling crisis. What is his Britannic Majesty to do? Send orders,
"Double YOUR diligence, Excellency Robinson!" that is one clear point;
the others are fearfully insoluble, yet pressing for solution: in a six
weeks hence (September 27th), we shall see what they issue in!--

As for Robinson, he is duly with the Queen at Presburg; duly conjuring
incessantly, "Make your peace with Friedrich!" And her Majesty will not,
on the terms. Poor Robinson, urged two ways at once, is flurried doubly
and trebly; tossed about as Diplomatist never was. King of Prussia
flashes lightning-looks upon him, clapping finger to nose; Maria
Theresa, knowing he will demand cession of Silesia, shudders at sight of
him; and the Aulic Council fall into his arms like dead men, murmuring,
"Money; where is your money?"

"AUGUST 29th. While Friedrich was pushing into Neipperg, in the
Baumgarten Country, and could get no battle out of him, Excellency
Robinson reappears at Breslau; Maria Theresa, after deadly efforts on
his part, has mended her offers, in these terrible circumstances; and
Robinson is here again. 'Half of Silesia, or almost half, provided his
Majesty will turn round, and help against the French:' these, secretly,
are Robinson's rich offers. The Queen, on consenting to these
new offers, had 'wrung her hands,' like one in despair, and said
passionately, 'Unless accepted within a fortnight, I will not be bound
by them!' 'Admit his Excellency to the honor of an interview,' solicits
Hyndford; 'his offers are much mended.' Notable to witness, Friedrich
will not see Robinson at all this time, nor even permit Podewils to see
him; signifies plainly that he wants to hear no more of his offers, and
that, in fact, the sooner he can take himself away from Breslau, it
will be the better. To that effect, Robinson, rushing back in mortified
astonished manner, reports progress at Presburg; to that and no
better. 'High Madam,' urges Robinson, still indefatigable, 'the King
of Prussia's help would be life, his hostility is death at this crisis.
Peace must be with him, at any price!' 'Price?' answers her Majesty
once: 'If Austria must fall, it is indifferent to me whether it be by
Kur-Baiern or Kur-Brandenburg!' [Stenzel, iv. 156.] Nevertheless,
in about a week she again yields to intense conjuring, and the
ever-tightening pressure of events;--King George, except it be for
counselling, is become stock-still, with Maillebois's sword at his
throat; and is, without metaphor, sinking towards absolute neutrality:
'Cannot help you, Madam, any farther; must not try it, or I perish, my
Hanover and I!'--So that Maria Theresa again mends her offers: 'Give
him all Lower Silesia, and he to join with me!' and Robinson post-haste
despatches a courier to Breslau with them. Notable again: King Friedrich
will not hear of them; answers by a 'No, I tell you! Time was, time
is not. I have now joined with France; and to join against it in this
manner? Talk to me no more!'" [Friedrich to Hyndford: _"Au Camp [de
Neuendorf] 14me septembre," 1741. "Milord j'ai recu les nouvelles
propositions d'alliance que l'infatigable Robinson vous envoie. Je les
trouve aussi chimeriques que les precedentes."--"Ces gens sont-ils fols,
Milord, de s'imaginer que je commisse la trahison de tourner en leur
faveur mes armes, et de"--"Je vous prie de ne me plus fatiguer avec
de pareilles propositions, et de me croire assez honnete homme pour ne
point violer mes engagements.--_ FREDERIC." (British Museum: Hyndford
Papers, fol. 133.)]...

Here is a catastrophe for the Two Britannic Excellencies, and the Cause
of Freedom! Robinson, in dudgeon and amazement, has hurried back to
Presburg, has ceased sending even couriers; and, in a three weeks hence
(9th October, a day otherwise notable), wishes "to come home," the game
being up. [His Letter, "9th October, 1741" (in Lord Mahon's _History of
England,_ iii. Appendix, p. iii: edit. London, 1839)]. Such is Robinson's
gloomy view: finished, he, and the game lost,--unless perhaps Hyndford
could still do something? Of which what hope is there! Hyndford, who
has a rough sagacity in him, and manifests often a strong sense of the
practical and the practicable, strikes into--Readers, from the following
Fragments of Correspondence, now first made public, will gather for
themselves what new course, veiled in triple mystery, Hyndford had
struck into. Four bits of Notes, well worth reading, under their
respective dates:--

1. EXCELLENCY HYNDFORD TO SECRETARY HARRINGTON (Two Notes). "BRESLAU,
2d SEPTEMBER, 1711 [on the heel of Robinson's second miscarriage].... My
Lord, all these contretemps are very unlucky at present, when time is
so precious; for France is pressing the King of Prussia in the strongest
manner to declare himself; but whatever eventual preliminaries may be
probably agreed between them, I still doubt if they have any Treaty
signed"--have had one, any time these three months (since 5th June
last); signed sufficiently; but of a most fast-and-loose nature; neither
party intending to be rigorous in keeping it. "I wish to God the Court
of Vienna may be brought to think before it is too late." [HYNDFORD
PAPERS (Brit. Mus. Additional MSS. 11,366), ii. fol. 91.]

2. "BRESLAU, 6th SEPTEMBER.... I am not without hopes of succeeding in a
project which has occurred to me on this occasion, and which seems to be
pretty well relished by some people [properly by one individual, Goltz,
the King's Adjutant and factotum], who are in great confidence about
the King of Prussia's person; and I think it is the only thing that now
remains to be tried; and as it is the least of two evils, I hope I shall
have the King my Master's approbation in attempting it; and if the Court
of Vienna will open their eyes, they must see it is the only thing left
to save them from utter destruction;"--and, finally, here it is:--

"Since Mr. Robinson left this place,--["Sooner YOU go, the better,
Sir!"],--"I have been sounding the people afore mentioned, the
individual afore hinted at, 'Whether the King of Prussia would hearken
to a Neutrality with respect to the Queen of Hungary, and at the same
time fulfil his engagements to his Majesty with respect to the defence
of his Majesty's German Dominions, IF she would give him the Lower
Silesia with Breslau?' At first they rejected it; saying it was a thing
they dared not propose. However, I have reason to believe, by a Letter I
saw this day, that it has been proposed to the King, and that he is not
absolutely averse to it. I shall know more in a few days; but if it
can be done at all, it must be done in the very greatest secrecy, for
neither the King nor his Ministers wish to appear in it; and I question
if his Minister Podewils will be informed of it." [_Hyndford Papers,_
fol. 97, 98.]

3. EXCELLENCY ROBINSON (in a flutter of excitement, temporary hope and
excitement, about Goltz) TO HYNDFORD, AT BRESLAU.

"PRESBURG, 8th SEPTEMBER (N.S.), 1741. My Lord, I could desire your
Lordship to summon up, if it were necessary, the spirit of all your
Lordship's Instructions, and the sense of the King, of the Parliament,
and of the whole British Nation. It is upon this great moment that
depends the fate, not of the House of Austria, not of the Empire, but
of the House of Brunswick, of Great Britain, and of all Europe. I verily
believe the King of Prussia does not himself know the extent of the
present danger. With whatever motive he may act, there is not one, not
that of the mildest resentment, that can blind him to this degree,
of himself perishing in the ruin he is bringing upon others. With his
concurrence, the French will, in less than six weeks, be masters of
the German Empire. The weak Elector of Bavaria is but their instrument:
Prague and Vienna may, and probably will, be taken in that short time.
Will even the King of Prussia himself be reserved to the last?

"Upon this single transaction [of your Lordship's affair with the
mysterious individual] depend the CITA MORS, or the VICTORIA LAETA of
all Europe. Nothing will equal the glory of your Lordship, in the latter
case, but that to be acquired by the King of Prussia in his immediate
imitation of the great Sobieski"--reputed "savior of Vienna," O your
Excellency!... "Prince Lichtenstein will, if found in time upon his
estates in Bohemia, be, I believe, the person to repair to the King of
Prussia, the moment your Lordship shall have signed the Preliminaries.
Once again, give me leave, my Lord, to express my most ardent wishes,
my"--T. ROBINSON. [_Hyndford Papers,_ fol. 102.]

4. EXCELLENCY HYNDFORD TO SECRETARY HARRINGTON.

"BRESLAU, 9th SEPTEMBER,... Received a message to meet him,"--HIM,
for we now speak in the singular number, though still without naming
Goltz,--"one of the persons I mentioned in my former Despatch: in a
very unsuspected place; for we have agreed to avoid all appearance of
familiarity. He told me he had received a Letter this morning from
the Camp,"--Prussian Majesty's Camp, or Bivouac (in the Munsterberg
Hill-Country), on that march towards Woitz, for crossing the Neisse upon
Neipperg, which proved impracticable,--"and that he could with pleasure
tell me that the King agreed to this last trial, although he would not,
nor could appear in it.... Then this person read to me a Paper, but I
could not see whether it was the King's hand or not; for when I desired
to take a copy, he said he could not show me the original; but dictated
as follows:--

"'Toute la Basse Silesie, la riviere de Neisse pour limite, la ville de
Neisse a nous, aussi bien que Glatz; de l'autre cote de l'Oder l'ancien
limite entre les Duches de Brieg et d'Oppeln. Namslau a nous. Les
affaires de religion IN STATU QUO. Point de dependance de la Boheme;
cession eternelle. En echange nous n'irons pas plus loin. Nous
assiegerons Neisse PRO FORMA: le commandant se rendra et sortira. Nous
prendrons les quartiers tranquillement, et ils pourront mener leur Armee
oh ils voudront. Que tout cela soit fini en douze jours.'" That is to
say:--

"'The whole of Lower Silesia, Neisse Town included; Neisse River for
boundary:--Glatz withal. Beyond the Oder, for the Duchies of Brieg and
Oppeln the ancient limits. Namslau ours. Affairs of Religion to continue
IN STATU QUO. No dependence [feudal tie or other, as there used to
be] on Bohemia; cession of Silesia to be absolute and forever.--We, in
return, will proceed no farther. We will besiege Neisse for form;
the Commandant shall surrender and depart. We will pass quietly into
winter-quarters; and the Austrian Army may go whither it will. Bargain
to be concluded within twelve days.'" [Coxe (iii. 272) gives this
Translation, not saying whence he had it.]--Can his Excellency Hyndford
get Vienna, get Feldmarschall Reipperg with power from Vienna, to
accept: Yes or No? Excellency Hyndford thinks, Yes; will try his very
utmost!--

"He (Goltz) then tore the Paper in very small pieces; and he repeated
again, that if the affair should be discovered, both the King and he
were determined to deny it.... 'But how about engagements with regard to
my Master's German Dominions; not a word about that?' He answered, 'You
have not the least to fear from France;' protested the King of Prussia's
great regard for his Majesty of England, &c. I told him these fine words
did not satisfy me; and that if this affair should succeed, I expected
there should be some stipulation." [_Hyndford Papers,_ fol. 115.]
Yes; and came, about a fortnight hence, "waylaying his Majesty" to get
one,--as readers saw above.

Prussian Dryasdust (poor soul, to whom one is often cruel!) shall glad
himself with the following Two bits of Autography from Goltz, who had
instantly quitted Breslau again;--and, to us, they will serve as date
for the actual arrival of Excellency Hyndford in those fighting regions,
and commencement of his mysterious glidings about between Camp and Camp.

GOLTZ TO THE EXCELLENCY HYNDFORD, AT BRESLAU (most Private).

"AU CAMP DE NEUENDORF, 16me septembre, a 9 heures du seir. (1.)
"MILORD,--Vons savez que je suis porte pour la bonne cause. Sur ce pied
je prends la liberte de vous conseiller en ami et serviteur, de venir
ici incessamment, et de presser votre voyage de sorte que vous puissiez
paraitre publiquement lundi [18th] vers midi. Vous trouverez 6 (SIC)
chevaux de postes a Olau et a Grottkau tout prets. Hatez-vous, Milord,
tout ce que vous pourrez au monde. J'ai l'honneur de" Meaning, in brief
English:--

"Be at Neundorf here, publicly, on Monday next, 18th, towards noon."
Things being ripe. "Haste, Milord, haste!"

"Ce 18me a 3 heures apres-midi. (2). "Je suis an desespoir, Milord, de
votre maladie. Voici le courrier que vous attendiez. Venez le plutot
que vous pourrez au monde; si non, dites au General Marwitz de quoi
il s'agit, afin qu'il puisse me le faire savoir.... Le courrier serait
arrive quatre heures plutot, si nous ne l'avions renvoye au Comte
Neuberg (SIC) a cause de votre maladie.--GOLTZ." [_Hyndford Papers,_
fol. 150-152.]--That is to say:--

"Distressed inexpressibly by your Lordship's biliary condition. One
cannot travel under colic;--and things were so ripe! Courier would have
reached you four hours sooner, but we had to send him over to Neipperg
first. Come, oh come!"--Which Hyndford, now himself again, at once does.

This is the Mystery, which, on September 22d, had arrived at that stage,
indicated above: "Tush! Follow me: Dinner is already falling cold, and
there are eyes upon us!" And in about another fortnight--But we
shall have to take the luggage with us, too, what minimum of it is
indispensable!



Chapter V. -- KLEIN-SCHNELLENDORF: FRIEDRICH GETS NEISSE, IN A FASHION.

While these combined Mysteries and War-movements go on, in Neisse
and its Environs, the World-Phenomena continue,--in Upper Austria
and elsewhere. Of which take these select summits, or points chiefly
luminous in the dusk of the forgotten Past:--

LINZ, SEPTEMBER 14th. Karl Albert, being joined some days ago at
Scharding by the first three French Divisions, 15,000 men in all (the
other four Divisions of them are still in the Donauworth-Ingolstadt
quarter, making their manifold arrangements), has pushed forward, sixty
miles (land-marches, south side of the Donau, which makes a bend here),
and this day, September 14th, appears at Linz. Pleasant City of
Linz; where, as readers may remember, Mr. John Kepler, long ago, busy
discovering the System of the World (grandest Conquest ever made, or to
be made, by the Sons of Adam), had his poor CAMERA OBSCURA set out, to
get himself a livelihood in the interim: here now is Karl Albert's flag
on the winds, and, as it were, the Oriflamme with it, on a singularly
different Adventure. "Open Gates!" demands Karl Albert with authority:
"Admit me to my Capital of Upper Austria!" Which cannot be denied him,
there being nothing but Town-guards in the place.

Karl Albert continued there some weeks, in a serenely victorious
posture; doing acts of authority; getting homaged by the STANDE;
pushing out his forces farther and farther down the Donau, post after
post,--victorious Oriflamme-Bavarian Army may be 40,000 strong or so, in
those parts. Friedrich urged him much to push on without pause, and
take opportunity by the forelock; sent Schmettau (elder of the two
Schmettaus, who is much employed on such business) to urge him; wrote an
express Paper of Considerations pressingly urgent: but he would not, and
continued pausing.

Vienna, all in terror, is fortifying itself; citizens toiling at the
earthworks, resolute for making some defence; Constituted Authorities,
National Archives even, Court in a body, and all manner of Noble and
Official people, flying else-whither to covert: chiefly to Presburg,
where her Majesty already is. The Archives were carried to Gratz; the
two Dowager Empresses (for there are two, Maria Theresa's Mother, and
Maria Theresa's Aunt, Kaiser Joseph's Widow) fled different ways,--I
forget which. An agitated, paralyzed population. Except the diligent
wheelbarrows on the ramparts, no vehicle is rolling in Vienna but
furniture-wagons loading for flight. General Khevenhuller with 6,000,
who pesides with fine scientific skill, and an iron calmness and
clearness, over these fortifyings, is the only force left. [Anonymous,
_Histoire de la Derniere Guerre de Boheme_ (a Francfort, 1745-1747, 4
tomes), i. 190. A lively succinct little Book, vague not false; still
readable, though not now, as then, with complete intelligence, to the
unprepared reader. Said, in Dictionaries, to be by Mauvillon PERE,
though it resembles nothing else of his that is known to me.]'
Neipperg's, our only Army in the world, is hundreds of miles away,
countermarching and manoeuvring about Woitz, and Neisse Town and
River,--pretty sure to be beaten in the end,--and it is high time there
were a Silesian bargain had, if Hyndford can get us any.

DRESDEN, SEPTEMBER 19th (Excellency Hyndford just recovering from his
colic, in Breslau), Kur-Sachsen, after many waverings, signs Treaty of
Copartnery with France and Bavaria, seduced by "that Moravia," and the
ticklings of Belleisle acting on a weak mind. [Adelung, ii. 469, 304,
503.] His troops are 20,000, or rather more; said to be of good quality,
and well equipped. In February last we saw him engaged in Russian,
Anti-Prussian Partition schemes. In April, as these suddenly (on sight
of the Camp of Gottin) extinguished themselves, he agreed to go, in the
pacific way, with her Hungarian Majesty for friend (Treaty with her,
signed 11th April); but never went (Treaty never ratified); kept his
20,000 lying about in Camp, in an enigmatic manner,--first about
Torgau, latterly in the Lausitz, much nearer to the ERZGEBIRGE
(Metal-Mountains), Frontier of Bohemia;--and now signs as above; intent
to march as soon as possible. Is to have Four Circles of Bohemia,
imaginary Kingships of Moravia, and other prizes. Belleisle has tickled
that big trout: Belleisle could now have the Election as he wishes it,
would the Electors but be speedy; but they will not, and he is obliged
to push continually.


"Moriamur pro Rege nostro Maria Theresia," IN THE POETIC, AND THEN ALSO
IN THE PROSE FORM.

PRESBURG, SEPTEMBER 21st. This is the date (or chief date, for, alas,
there turn out to be two!) of the world-famous "MORIAMUR PRO REGE NOSTRO
MARIA THERESIA;" of which there are now needed Two Narratives; the
generally received (in part mythical) going first, in the following
strain:--

"The Queen has been in Presburg mainly, where the Hungarian Diet is
sitting, ever since her Coronation-ceremony. On the 11th September [or
11th and 21st together], the afflicted Lady makes an appearance there,
which, for theatrical reality, has become very celebrated. Alas, it is
but three months since she galloped to the top of the Konigsberg, and
cut defiantly with bright sabre towards the Four Points of the Universe;
and already it has come to this. Hungarian Magnates in high session,
the high Queen enters, beautiful and sad,--and among her Ministers is
noticeable a Nurse with the young Archduke, some six months old, a fine
thriving child, perhaps too wise for his age, who became Kaiser Joseph
II. in after time.

"The Hungarian Session is not on record for me, Hall of meeting, Magyar
Parliamentary eloquence unknown; nor is any point conspicuously visible,
exact and certain, except these [alas, not even these]: That it was the
11th of September; that her Majesty coming forward to speak, took the
child in her arms, and there, in a clear and melodiously piercing voice,
sorrow and courage on her noble face, beautiful as the Moon riding among
wet stormy clouds, spake, as the Hungarian Archives still have it, a
short Latin Harangue; in substance as follows:... 'Hostile invasion of
Austria; imminent peril, to this Kingdom of Hungary, to our person,
to our children, to our crown. Forsaken by all,--AB OMNIBUS DERELICTI
[Britannic Majesty himself standing stock-still,--blamably, one thinks,
the two swords being only at HIS throat, and a good way off!]--I have
no resource but to throw myself on the loyalty and help of Your renowned
Body, and invoke the ancient Hungarian virtue to rise swiftly and save
me!' Whereat the assembled Hungarian Synod, their wild Magyar hearts
touched to the core, start up in impetuous acclaim, flourish aloft their
drawn swords, and shout unanimously in passionate tenor-voice, 'MORIAMUR
(Let us die) for our Rex Maria Theresa!' [_Maria Theresiens Leben_ (which
speaks hypothetically), iv, 44; Coxe, iii. 270 (who is positive, "after
examining the Documents").] Which were not vain words. For a general
'Insurrection' was thereupon decreed; what the Magyars call their
'Insurrection,' which is by no means of rebellious nature; and many
noblemen, old Count Palfy himself a chief among them, though past
threescore and ten, took the field at their own cost; and the noise
of the Hungarian Insurrection spread like a voice of hope over all
Pragmatic countries."--

A very beautiful heroic scene; which has gone about the world,
circulating triumphantly through all hearts for above a Century past;
and has only of late acknowledged itself mythical,--not true, except as
toned down to the following stingy prose pitch:--

PRESBURG, SEPTEMBER 21st. Maria Theresa, since that fine
Coronation-scene, June 28th, has had a mixed time of it with her
Hungarian Diet; soft passages alternating with hard: a chivalrous
people, most consciously chivalrous; but a constitutional withal, very
stiff upon their Charter (PACTA CONVENTA, or whatever the name is); who
wrangle much upon privileges, upon taxes, and are difficult to keep long
in tune. Ten days ago (September 11th), her Majesty tried them on a new
tack; summoned them to her Palace; threw herself upon their nobleness,
"No allies but you in the world" (and other fine things, authentically,
as above, legible in the Archives to this day):--so spake the beautiful
young Queen, her eyes filling with tears as she went on, and yet a noble
fire gleaming through them. Which melted the Hungarian heart a good
deal; and produced fine cheering, some persons even shedding tears,
and voices of "Life and Fortune to your Majesty!" being heard in it.
In which humor the Diet returned to its Session-House, and voted the
"Insurrection,"--or general Arming of Hungary, County by County, each
according to its own contingent;--with all speed, in pursuance of her
Majesty's implied desire. This was voted in rapid manner; but again,
in the detail of executing, it was liable to haggles. From this day,
however, matters did decidedly improve; PACTA CONVENTA, or any remainder
of them, are got adjusted,--the good Queen yielding on many points. So
that, September 20th, Grand-Duke Franz is elected Co-regent,--let
him start from Vienna instantly, for Instalment;--and it is hoped the
Insurrection will go well, and not prove haggly, or hang fire in the
details.

At any rate, next day, September 21st, Duke Franz, who arrived last
night,--and Baby with him, or in the train of him (to the joy of
Mamma!)--is in the Palace Audience-Hall, "at 8 A.M.;" ready for
the Diet, and what Homagings aud mutual Oath, as new Co-regent, are
necessary. Grand-Duke Franz, Mamma by his side, with the suitable
functionaries; and to rearward Nurse and Baby, not so conspicuous till
needed. Diet enters with the stroke of 8; solemnity proceeds. At the
height of the solemnity, when Duke Franz, who is really risen now to
something of a heroic mood, in these emergencies and perils, has just
taken his Oath, and will have to speak a fit word or two,--the Nurse,
doubtless on hint given, steps forward; holds up Baby (a fine noticing
fellow, I have no doubt,--"weighed sixteen pounds avoirdupois when
born"); as if Baby too, fine mutual product of the Two Co-regents, were
mutually swearing and appealing. Enough to touch any heart. "Life and
blood (VITAM ET SANGUINEM) for our Queen and Kingdom!" exclaims the
Grand-Duke, among other things. "Yes, VITAM ET SANGUINEM!" re-echoes
the Diet, "our life and our blood!" many-voiced, again and again;--and
returns to its own Place of Session, once more in a fine strain of loyal
emotion.

And there, O reader, is the naked truth, neither more nor less. It was
some Vienna Pamphleteer of theatrical imaginative turn, finding the
thing apt, a year or two afterwards--who by kneading different dates
and objects into one, boldly annihilating time and space, and adding a
little paint,--gave it that seductive mythical form. From whom Voltaire
adopted it, with improvements, especially in the little Harangue; and
from Voltaire gratefully the rest of mankind. [Voltaire, _Siecle de
Louis XV.,_ c. 6 (_OEuvres,_ xxviii. 78); Coxe, _House of Austria,_
iii. 270; and innumerable others (who give this Myth)]; _Maria Theresiens
Leben,_ p. 44 n. (who cites the Vienna Pamphleteers, without much
believing them); Mailath (a Hungarian), _Geschichte des OEsterrichischen
Kaiser-Staats_ (Hamburg, 1850), v. 11-13 (who explodes the fable). Cut
down to the practical, it stands as above:--by no means a bad
thing still. That of "bringing in Baby" was a pretty touch in the
domestic-royal way;--and surely very natural; and has no "art" in it,
or none to blame and not love rather, on the part of the bright young
Mother, now girdled in such tragic outlooks, and so glad to have Baby
back at least, and Papa with him! It is certain the "Insurrection" was
voted with enthusiasm; and even became rapidly a fact. And there was, in
few months hence, an immense mounted force of Hungarians raised, which
galloped and plundered (having almost no pay), and occasionally fenced
and fought, very diligently during all these Wars. Hussars, Croats,
Pandours, Tolpatches, Warasdins, Uscocks, never heard of in war before:
who were found very terrible to look upon once, in the imagination or
with the naked eye; but whose fighting talent, against regular troops,
was next to worthless; and who gradually became hateful rather than
terrible in the military world.

HANOVER, SEPTEMBER 27th. Britannic Majesty, reduced to that frightful
pinch, has at last given way. Treaty of Neutrality for Hanover;
engagement again to stick one's puissant Pragmatic sword into its
scabbard, to be perfectly quiescent and contemplative in these
French-Bavarian Anti-Austrian undertakings, and digest one's indignation
as one can. For our Paladin of the Pragmatic what a posture! This is
the first of Three Attempts by our puissant little Paladin to draw
sword;--not till the third could he get his sword out, or do the least
fighting (even foolish fighting) with all the 40,000 he had kept on pay
and subsidy for years back. The Neutrality was for Hanover only, and
had no specific limit as to time. Opportunities did rise; but something
always rose along with them,--mainly the impossibility of hoisting those
lazy Dutch,--and checked one's noble rage. His Majesty has covenanted
to vote for Karl Albert as Kaiser; even he, and will make the thing
unanimous! A thoroughly check-mated Majesty. Passing home to
England, this time in a gloomy condition of mind, shortly after these
humiliations, he was just issuing from Osnabruck by the Eastern Gate,
when Maillebois's people entered by the Western,--the ugly shoes of
them insulting his kibes in this manner. And a furious Anti-Walpole
Parliament, most perturbed of National Palavers, is waiting him at St.
James's. Heavy-laden little Hercules that he is!

Karl Albert lay at Linz for a month longer (till October 24th, six weeks
in all); pausing in uncertainties, in a pleasant dream of victory and
sovereignty; not pouncing on Vienna, as Friedrich urged on the French
and him, to cut the matter by the root. He does push forward certain
troops, Comte de Saxe with Three Horse Regiments as vanguard, ever
nearer to Vienna; at last to within forty miles of it; nay, light-horse
parties came within twenty-five miles. And there was skirmishing with
Mentzel, a sanguinary fellow, of whom we shall hear more; who had got
"1,000 Tolpatches" under him, and stood ruggedly at bay.

Karl Albert has been sending out sovereign messages from Linz: Letters
to Vienna;--one letter addressed "To the Arch-duchess Maria Theresa;"
which came back unopened, "No such person known here." October 2d, he is
getting homaged at Linz, by the STANDE of the Province,--on summons
sent some time before,--many of whom attend, with a willing enough
appearance; Kur-Baiern rather a favorite in Upper Austria, say some.
Much fine processioning, melodious haranguing, there now is for Karl
Albert, and a pleasant dream of Sovereignty at Linz: but if he do not
pounce upon Vienna till Khevenhuller get it fortified? Khevenhuller is
drawing home Italian Garrisons, gradually gathering something like an
Army round him. In Khevenhuller's imperturbable military head, one of
the clearest and hardest, there is some hope. Above all, if Neipperg's
Army were to disengage itself, and be let loose into those parts?



EXCELLENCY HYNDFORD BRINGS ABOUT A MEETING AT KLEIN-SCHNELLENDORF (9th
October, 1741).

It was the second day after that Homaging at Linz, when Hyndford (Sept.
22d) with mysterious negotiations, now nearly ripe, for disengaging
Neipperg, waylaid his Prussian Majesty; and was answered, as we saw,
with "Tush, tush! Dinner is already cold!"

It must be owned, these Friedrich-Hyndford Negotiations, following on
an express French-Prussian Treaty of June 5th, which have to proceed
in such threefold mystery now and afterwards, are of questionable
distressing nature: nor can the fact that they are escorted copiously
enough by a correspondent sort on the French side, and indeed on the
Austrian and on all sides, be a complete consolation,--far otherwise, to
the ingenuous reader. Smelfungus indignantly calls it an immorality and
a dishonor, "a playing with loaded dice;" which in good part it surely
was. Nor can even Friedrich, who has many pleas for himself, obtain
spoken acquittal; unspoken, accompanied with regrets and pity, is all
even Friedrich can aspire to. My own impression is, Smelfungus, if
candid, would on clearer information and consideration have revoked much
of what he says here in censure of Friedrich. At all events, if asked:
Where then is the specifical not "superstitious" WANT of "veracity" you
ever found in Friedrich? and How, OTHERWISE than even as Friedrich did,
would you, most veracious Smelfungus, have plucked out your Silesia from
such an Element and such a Time?--he would be puzzled to answer. I give
his Fragment as I find it, with these deductions:--

"What negotiating we have had, and shall have," exclaims Smelfungus, my
sad foregoer,--"fit rather to be omitted from a serious History,
which intends to be read by human creatures! Bargaining, Promising,
Non-performing. False in general as dicers' oaths; false on this side
and on that, from beginning to end. Intercepted Letters from Fleury;
Letter dropping from Valori's waistcoat-pocket, upon which Friedrich
claps his foot: alas, alas, we are in the middle of a whole world of
that. Friedrich knows that the French are false to him; he by no means
intends to be romantically true to them, and that also they know. What
is the use to human creatures of recording all that melancholy stuff?
If sovereign persons want their diplomacies NOT to be swept into the
ash-pit, there are two conditions, especially one which is peremptory:
FIRST, that they should not be lies;--SECOND, that they should be of
some importance, some wisdom; which with known lies is not a possible
condition. To unravel cobwebs, and register laboriously and date and
sort in the sorrow of your soul the oaths of crowned dicers,--what use
is it to gods or men? Having well dressed and sliced your cucumber,
the next clear human duty is: Throw it out of window. In that foul
Lapland-witch world, of seething Diplomacies and monstrous wigged
mendacities, horribly wicked and despicably unwise, I find nothing
notable, memorable even in a small degree, except this aspect of a
young King who does know what he means in it. Clear as a star, sharp as
cutting steel (very dangerous to hydrogen balloons), he stands in the
middle of it, and means to extort his own from it by such methods as
there are.

"Magnanimous I can by no means call Friedrich to his allies and
neighbors, nor even superstitiously veracious, in this business: but he
thoroughly understands, he alone, what just thing he wants out of it,
and what an enormous wigged mendacity it is he has got to deal with. For
the rest, he is at the gaming-table with these sharpers; their dice all
cogged;--and he knows it, and ought to profit by his knowledge of it.
And in short, to win his stake out of that foul weltering mellay, and go
home safe with it if he can."

Very well, my friend! Let us keep to windward of the Diplomatic
wizard's-caldron; let Hyndford, Valori and Company preside over it,
throwing in their eye of newt and limb of toad, as occasion may be.
Enough, if the reader can be brought to conceive it; and how the young
King,--who perhaps alone had real business in this foul element, and
did not volunteer into it like the others, though it now unexpectedly
envelops him like a world-whirlwind (frightful enough, if one spoke of
that to anybody), is struggling with his whole soul to get well out of
it. As supremely adroit, all readers already know him; his appearance
what we called starlike,--always something definite, fixed and lucid in
it.

He is dexterously holding aloof from Hyndford at present, clinging to
French Valori as his chosen companion: we may fancy what a time he has
of it, like a polygamist amid jealous wives. It will quicken Hyndford,
he perceives, in these ulterior stages, to leave him well alone.
Hyndford accordingly, as we have noticed, could not see the King at all;
had to try every plan, to watch, waylay the King for a bit of interview,
when indispensable. However, Hyndford, with his Neipperg in sight of
the peril, manages better than Robinson with his Aulic Council at a
distance: besides he is a long-headed dogged kind of man, with a surly
edacious strength, not inexpert in negotiation, nor easily turned aside
from any purpose he may have.

Between the two Camps, nearly midway, lies a Hamlet called
Klein-Schnellendorf, LITTLE Schnellendorf, to distinguish it
from another Schnellendorf called GREAT, which is a mile or two
northwestward, out of the straight line. Not far from the first of
these poor Hamlets lies a Schloss or noble Mansion, likewise called
Klein-Schnellendorf, belonging to a certain Count von Sternberg, who is
not there at present, but whose servants are, and a party of Croats over
them for some days back: a pleasant airy Mansion among pleasant gardens,
well shut out from the intrusion of the world. Upon this Castle of
Klein-Schnellendorf judicious Hyndford has cast his eye:--and Neipperg,
now come to a state of readiness, approves the suggestion of Hyndford,
and promptly at the due moment converts it into a fact. Arrests namely,
on a given morning (the last act of his Croats there, who withdrew
directly with their batch of prisoners), every living soul within or
about the Mansion;--"suspected of treason;" only for one day;--and
in this way, has it reduced to the comfortable furnished solitude of
Sleeping Beauty's Castle; a place fit for high persons to hold a
Meeting in, which shall remain secret as the grave. Such a thing was
indispensable. For Friedrich, keeping shy of Hyndford, as he well may
with a Valori watching every step, has, by words, by silences, when
Hyndford could waylay him for a moment, sufficiently indicated what he
will and what he will not; and, for one indispensable condition, in the
present thrice-delicate Adventure, he will not sign anything; will give
and take word of honor, and fully bind himself, but absolutely not put
pen to paper at all. Neipperg being willing too, judicious Hyndford
finds a medium. Let the parties meet at Klein-Schnellendorf, and
judicious Hyndford be there with pen and paper. [Orlich, i. 146;
_Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 1009.]

Monday, 9th October, 1741, accordingly, there is meeting to be held.
Hyndford, Neipperg with his General Lentulus (a Swiss-Austrian General,
whose Son served under Friedrich afterwards), these wait for Friedrich,
on the one hand:--"to fix some cartel for exchange of prisoners," it
is said;--in these precincts of Klein-Schnellendorf; which are silent,
vacant, yet comfortably furnished, like Sleeping Beauty's Castle.
And Friedrich, on the other hand, is actually riding that way, with
Goltz;--visiting outposts, reconnoitring, so to speak. "Dine you with
Prince Leopold (the Young Dessauer), my fine Valori; I fear I shan't
be home to dinner!" he had said when going off; hoodwinking his
fine Valori, who suspects nothing. At a due distance from
Klein-Schnellendorf, the very groom is left behind; and Friedrich, with
Goltz only, pushes on to the Schloss. All ready there; salutations soon
done; business set about, perfected:--and Hyndford with pen and ink in
his hand, he, by way of Protocol, or summary of what had been agreed
on, on mutual word of honor, most brief but most clear on this occasion,
writes a State Paper, which became rather famous afterwards. This is the
Paper in condensed state; though clear, it is very dull!

KLEIN-SCHNELLENDORF, 9th OCTOBER, 1741. Britannic Excellency Hyndford
testifies, That, here and now, his Majesty of Prussia, and Neipperg on
behalf of her Hungarian Majesty do, solemnly though only verbally, agree
to the following Four Things:--

"FIRST, That General Neipperg, on the 16th of the month [this day week]
shall have liberty to retire through the Mountains, towards Moravia;
unmolested, or with nothing but sham-attacks in the rear of him. SECOND,
That, in consequence, his Prussian Majesty, on making sham-siege of
Neisse, shall have the place surrendered to him on the fifteenth day.
THIRD, That there shall be, nay in a sense, there hereby is, a Peace
made; his Majesty retaining Neisse and Silesia [according to the limits
known to us:--nothing said of Glatz]; and that a complete Treaty to that
effect shall be perfected, signed and ratified, before the Year is out.
FOURTH, That these sham-hostilities, but only sham, shall continue; and
that his Majesty, wintering in Bohemia, and carrying on sham-hostilities
[to the satisfaction of the French], shall pay his own expenses, and do
no mischief." [Given in _Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 1009; in &c.]

To these Four Things they pledge their word of honor; and Hyndford signs
and delivers each a Copy. Unwritten a Fifth Thing is settled, That the
present transaction in all parts of it shall be secret as death,--his
Majesty expressly insisting that, if the least inkling of it ooze out,
he shall have right to deny it, and refuse in any way to be bound by it.
Which likewise is assented to.

Here is a pretty piece of work done for ourself and our allies, while
Valori is quietly dining with the Prince of Dessau! The King stayed
about two hours; was extremely polite, and even frank and communicative.
"A very high-spirited young King," thinks Neipperg, reporting of it;
"will not stand contradiction; but a great deal can be made of him, if
you go into his ideas, and humor him in a delicate dexterous way. He
did not the least hide his engagements with France, Bavaria, Saxony; but
would really, so far as I Neipperg could judge, prefer friendship with
Austria, on the given terms; and seems to have secretly a kind of pique
at Saxony, and no favor for the French and their plans." [Orlich, i. 149
(in condensed state).]

"Business being done [this is Hyndford's report], the King, who had been
politeness itself, took Neipperg aside, beckoning Hyndford to be of
the party, 'I wish you too, my Lord, to hear every word:--his Britannic
Majesty knows or should know my intentions never were to do him hurt,
but only to take care of myself; and pray inform him [what is the fact]
that I have ordered my Army in Brandenburg to go into winter-quarters,
and break up that Camp at Gottin.' Friedrich's talk to Neipperg is, How
he may assault the French with advantage: 'Join Lobkowitz and what force
he has in Bohmen; go right into your enemies, before they can unite
there. If the Queen prosper, I shall--perhaps I shall have no objection
to join her by and by? If her Majesty fail; well, every one must look
to himself.'" These words Hyndford listened to with an edacious solid
countenance, and greedily took them down. [Hyndford's Despatch, Breslau,
14th October, 1741.]

Once more, a curious glimpse (perhaps imprudently allowed us, in the
circumstances) into the real inner man of Friedrich. He had, at this
time, now that the Belleisle Adventure is left in such a state, no
essential reason to wish the French ruined,--nor probably did he; but
only stated both chances, as in the way of unguarded soliloquy; and
was willing to leave Neipperg a sweet morsel to chew. Secret mode of
corresponding with the Court of Austria is agreed upon; not direct, but
through certain Commandants, till the Peace-Treaty be perfected,--at
latest "by December 24th," we hope. And so, "BON VOYAGE, and well across
the Mountains, M. LE MARECHAL; till we meet again! And you,
Excellency Hyndford, be so good you as write to me,--for Valori's
behoof,--complaining that I am deaf to all proposals, that nothing can
be had of me. And other Letters, pray, of the like tenor, all round; to
Presburg, to England, to Dresden:--if the Couriers are seized, it shall
be well. 'Your Letter to myself, let a trumpet come with it while I am
at dinner,' and Valori beside me!"--"Certainly, your Majesty," answers
Hyndford; and does it, does all this; which produces a soothing effect
on Valori, poor soul!



FRIEDRICH TAKES NEISSE BY SHAM SIEGE (CAPTURE NOT SHAM); GETS HOMAGED IN
BRESLAU; AND RETURNS TO BERLIN.

Thus, if the Austrians hold to their bargain, has Friedrich, in a most
compendious manner, got done with a Business which threatened to be
infinite: by this short cut he, for his part, is quite out of the
waste-howling jungle of Enchanted Forest, and his foot again on the firm
free Earth. If only the Austrians hold to their bargain! But probably he
doubts if they will. Well, even in that case, he has got Neisse; stands
prepared for meeting them again; and, in the mean while, has freedom to
deny that there ever was such a bargain.

Of the Political morality of this game of fast-and-loose, what have we
to say,--except, that the dice on both sides seem to be loaded; that
logic might be chopped upon it forever; that a candid mind will settle
what degree of wisdom (which is always essentially veracity), and what
of folly (which is always falsity), there was in Friedrich and the
others; whether, or to what degree, there was a better course open
to Friedrich in the circumstances:--and, in fine, it will have to be
granted that you cannot work in pitch and keep hands evidently clean.
Friedrich has got into the Enchanted Wilderness, populous with devils
and their works;--and, alas, it will be long before he get out of it
again, HIS life waning towards night before he get victoriously out,
and bequeath his conquest to luckier successors! It is one of the tragic
elements of this King's life; little contemplated by him, when he went
lightly into the Silesian Adventure, looking for honor bright, what he
called "GLOIRE," as one principal consideration, hardly a year ago!--

Neipperg, according to covenant, broke up punctually that day week,
October 16th; and went over the Mountains, through Jagerndorf, Troppau,
towards Mahren; Prussians hanging on his rear, and skirmishing about,
but only for imaginary or ostensible purposes. After a three-weeks
march, he gets to a place called Frating, [Espagnac, i. 104.]
easternmost border of Mahren, on the slopes of the Mannhartsberg
Hill-Country, which is within wind of Vienna itself; where, as we can
fancy, his presence is welcome as morning-light in the present dark
circumstances.

Friedrich, on the morrow after Neipperg went, invested Neisse (October
17th); set about the Siege of Neisse with all gravity, as if it had been
the most earnest operation; which nobody of mankind, except three or
four, doubted but it was. Before opening of the trenches, Leopold young
Dessauer took the road for Glatz Country, and the adjoining Circles of
Bohemia; there to canton himself, peaceably according to contract; and
especially to have an eye upon Glatz, should the Klein-Schnellendorf
engagement go awry in any point. The King in his Dialogue with Neipperg
had said several things about Glatz, and what a sacrifice he made there
for the sake of speedy pace, the French having guaranteed him Glatz,
though he now forbore it. Leopold, who has with him some 15,000 horse
and foot, cantons himself judiciously in those ultramontane parts,--"all
the artillery in the Glatz Country;" [_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 431;
Orlich, i. 174.]--and we shall hear of him again, by and by, in regard
to other business that rises there.

Neisse is a formidable Fortress, much strengthened since last year; but
here is a Besieger with much better chance! He marked out parallels,
sent summonses, reconnoitred, manoeuvred,--in a way more or less
surprising to the eye of Valori, who is military, and knows about
sieges. Rather singular, remarks Valori; good engineers much wanted
here! But the bombardment did finally begin: night of October 26th-27th,
the Prussiaus opened fire; and, at a terrible rate, cannonaded and
bombarded without intermission. In point of fire and noise it is
tremendous; Valori trusts it may be effective, in spite of faults; goes
to Breslau in hope: "Yes, go to Breslau, MON CHER VALORI; wait for me
there. Neipperg be chased, say you? Shall not he,--if we had got this
place!" And so the fire continues night and day. [_Helden-Geschichte,_
i. 1006.]

Fantastic Bielfeld, in his semi-fabulous style, has a LETTER on this
bombardment, attractive to Lovers of the Picturesque,--(written long
afterwards, and dated &c. WRONG). As Bielfeld is a rapid clever creature
of the coxcomb sort, and doubtless did see Neisse Siege, and entertained
seemingly a blazing incorrect recollection of it, his Pseudo-Neisse
Letter may be worth giving, to represent approximately what kind of
scene it was there at Neisse in the October nights:--

"Marechal Schwerin was lodged in a Village about three-quarters of a
mile from Head-Quarters. One day he did me the honor to invite me to
dinner; and even offered me a horse to ride thither with him. I found
excellent company; a superb repast, and wine of the gods. Host and
guests were in high spirits; and the pleasures of the table were kept up
so late, that it was midnight when we rose. I was obliged to return
to Head-Quarters, having still to wait upon the King, as usual. The
Marechal was kind enough to lend me another horse; but the groom
mischievously gave me the charger which the Marechal rode at the Battle
of Mollwitz; a very powerful animal, and which, from that day, had grown
very skittish.

"I was made aware of this circumstance, before we were fairly out of the
Village; and the night being of the darkest, I twenty times ran the
risk of breaking my neck. We had to pass over a hill, to get to
Head-Quarters. When I reached the top, a shudder came over me, and my
hair stood on end. I had nobody with me but a strange groom. The country
all around was infested with troops and marauders; I was mounted on an
unmanageable horse. Under my feet, so to say, I saw the bombardment
of the Town of Neisse. I heard the roar of cannon and doleful shrieks.
Above our batteries the whole atmosphere was inflamed; and to complete
the calamity, I missed the way, and got lost in the darkness. Finally,
in descending the hill, my horse, frightened, made a terrible swerve or
side-jump. I did not know the cause; but after having, with difficulty,
got him into the road again, I found myself opposite to a deserter who
had been hanged that day! I was horribly disgusted by the sight; the
gallows being very low, and the head of the malefactor almost parallel
with mine. I spurred on, and galloped away from such unpleasant
night-company. At last I arrived at Head-Quarters, all in a
perspiration. I sent my horse back; and went in to the King, who asked
me at once, why I was so heated. I made his Majesty a faithful report of
all my disasters. He laughed much; and advised me seriously not again
to go out by night, and alone, beyond the circuit of Head-Quarters."
[Bielfeld, ii. 31, 32.]

After four days and nights of this sublime Playhouse thunder (with real
bullets in it, which killed some men, and burnt considerable property),
the Neisse Commandant (not Roth this time, Roth is now in Brunn),--his
"fortnight of siege," October 17th to October 31st, being accomplished
or nearly so,--beat chamade; and was, after grave enough treatying,
allowed to march away. Marched, accordingly, on the correct
Klein-Schnellendorf terms; most of his poor garrison deserting, and
taking Prussian service. Ever since which moment, Neisse, captured in
this curious manner, has been Friedrich's and his Prussia's.

November 1st, the Prussian soldiers entered the place; and Friedrich,
after diligent inspection and what orders were necessary, left for Brieg
on the following day;--where general illuminating and demonstrating
awaited him, amid more serious business. After strict examinations, and
approval of Walrave and his works at Brieg, he again takes the road;
enters Breslau, in considerable state (November 4th); where many Persons
of Quality are waiting, and the general Homaging is straightway to
be,--or indeed should have been some days ago, but has fallen behind by
delays in the Neisse affair.

The Breslau HULDIGUNG,--Friedrich sworn to and homaged with the due
solemnities as "Sovereign Duke of Lower Silesia,"--was an event to throw
into fine temporary frenzy the descriptive Gazetteers, and Breslau City,
overflowing with Quality people come to act and to see on the occasion.
Event which can be left to the reader's fancy, at this date. There
were Corporations out in quantity, "all in cloaks" and with sublime
Addresses, partly in poetry, happily rather brief. There were beautiful
Prussian Life-guards "First Battalion," admirable to the softer sex,
not to speak of the harder); much military resonance and splendor.
Friedrich drove about in carriages-and-six, "nay carriage-and-eight,
horses cream-color:" a very high King indeed; and a very busy one,
for those four days (November 4th-8th) 1741), but full of grace and
condescension. The HULDIGUNG itself took effect on the 7th; in the fine
old Rathhaus, which Tourists still know,--the surrounding Apple-women
sweeping themselves clear away for one day. Ancient Ducal throne and
proper apparatus there was; state-sword unluckily wanting: Schwerin, who
was to act Grand-Marshal, could find no state-sword, till Friedrich drew
his own and gave it him. [_Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 1022, 1025; ii. 349.]

Podewils the Minister said something, not too much; to which one
Prittwitz, head of a Silesian Family of which we shall know individuals,
made pithy and pretty response, before swearing. "There were above Four
Hundred of Quality present, all in gala." The customary Free-Gift of the
STANDE Friedrich magnanimously refused: "Impossible to be a burden to
our Silesia in such harassed war-circumstances, instead of benefactor
and protector, as we intended and intend!" The Ceremony, swearing and
all, was over in two hours; hundreds of silver medals, not to speak of
the gold ones, flying about; and Breslau giving itself up joyfully
to dinner and festivities. And, after dinner, that evening, to
Illumination; followed by balls and jubilations for days after, in
a highly harmonious key. Of the lamps-festoons, astonishing
transparencies, and glad symbolic devices, I could say a great deal;
but will mention only two, both of comfortably edible or quasi-edible
tendency:--1. That of David Schulze, Flesher by profession; who had a
Transparency large as life, representing his own fat Person in the act
of felling a fat Ox; to which was appended this epigraph:--


     "Wer mir wird den Konig in Preussen verachten,
     Den will ich wie diesen Ochsen schlacten."

     "Who dares me the King of Prussia insult,
     Him I will serve like this fat head of nolt."

          Signed "DAVID SCHULER, A BRANDENBURGER."--

And then,

2. How, in another quarter, there was set aloft IN RE, by some
Pastry-cook of patriotic turn: "An actual Ox roasted whole; filled with
pheasants, partridges, grouse, hares and geese; Prussian Eagle atop,
made of roasted fowls, larks and the like,"--unattainable, I doubt,
except for money down. [_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 359.]

On the fifth morning, 9th November,--after much work done during this
short visit, much ceremonial audiencing, latterly, and raising to the
peerage,--Friedrich rolled on to Glogau. Took accurate survey of the
engineering and other interests there, for a couple of days; thence to
Berlin (noon of the 11th), joyfully received by Royal Family and all
the world;--and, as we might fancy, asking himself: "Am I actually home,
then; out of the enchanted jungles and their devilries; safe here, and
listening, I alone in Peace, to the universal din of War?" Alas, no;
that was a beautiful hypothesis; too beautiful to be long credible!
Before reaching Berlin,--or even Breslau, as appears,--Friedrich,
vigilantly scanning and discerning, had seen that fine hope as good as
vanish; and was silently busy upon the opposite one.

In a fortnight hence, Hyndford, who had followed to Berlin, got
transient sight of the King one morning, hastening through some
apartment or other: "'My Lord,' said the King, 'the Court of Vienna has
entirely divulged our secret. Dowager Empress Amelia [Kaiser Joseph's
widow, mother of Karl Albert's wife] has acquainted the Court of Bavaria
with it; Wasner [Austrian Minister at Paris] has told Fleury; Sinzendorf
[ditto at Petersburg] has told the Court of Russia; Robinson, through
Mr. Villiers [your Saxon Minister], has told the Court of Dresden; and
several members of your Government in England have talked publicly about
it!' And, with a shrug of the shoulders, he left me,"--standing somewhat
agape there. [Hyndford's Despatch, Berlin, 28th November, 1741; Ib.
Breslau, 28th October (secret already known).]



Chapter VI. -- NEW MAYOR OF LANDSHUT MAKES AN INSTALLATION SPEECH.

The late general Homaging at Breslau, and solemn Taking Possession
of the Country by King Friedrich, under such peaceable omens, had
straightway, as we gather, brought about, over Silesia at
large, or at least where pressingly needful, various little
alterations,--rectifications, by the Prussian model and new rule now
introduced. Of which, as it is better that the reader have some dim
notion, if easily procurable, than none at all, I will offer him one
example;--itself dim enough, but coming at first-hand, in the actual or
concrete form, and beyond disputing in whatever light or twilight it may
yield us.

At Landshut, a pleasant little Mountain Town, in the Principality of
Schweidnitz, high up, on the infant River Bober, near the Bohemian
Frontier--(English readers may see QUINCY ADAMS'S description of it, and
of the long wooden spouts which throw cataracts on you, if walking the
streets in rain [John Quincy Adams (afterwards President of the United
States), _Letters on Silesia_ (London, 1804). "The wooden spouts are
now gone" (_Tourist's Note, of_ 1858).]): at Landshut, as in some other
Towns, it had been found good to remodel the Town Magistracy a little;
to make it partly Protestant, for one thing, instead of Catholic
(and Austrian), which it had formerly been. Details about the "high
controversies and discrepancies" which had risen there, we have
absolutely none; nor have the special functions of the Magistracy, what
powers they had, what work they did, in the least become distinct to us:
we gather only that a certain nameless Burgermeister (probably Austrian
and Catholic) had, by "Most gracious Royal Special-Order," been
at length relieved from his labors, and therewith "the much by him
persecuted and afflicted Herr Theodorus Spener" been named Burgermeister
instead. Which respectable Herr Theodorus Spener, and along with him
Herr Johann David Fischer as RATHS-SENIOR, and Herr Johann Caspar
Ruffer, and also Herr Johann Jacob Umminger, as new Raths (how many
of the old being left I cannot say), were accordingly, on the 4th of
December, 1741, publicly installed, and with proper solemnity took
their places; all Landshut looking on, with the conceivable interest
and astonishment, almost as at a change in the obliquity of the
ecliptic,--change probably for the better.

Respectable Herr Theodorus Spener (we hope it is SpeNer, for they print
him SPEER in one of the two places, and we have to go by guess) is ready
with an Installation Speech on the occasion; and his Speech was judged
so excellent, that they have preserved it in print. Us it by no means
strikes by its Demosthenic or other qualities: meanwhile we listen to
it with the closest attention; hoping, in our great ignorance, to gather
from it some glimmerings of instruction as to the affairs, humors,
disposition and general outlook and condition of Landshut, and Silesia
in that juncture;--and though a good deal disappointed, have made an
Abstract of it in the English language, which perhaps the reader too, in
his great ignorance, will accept, in defect of better. Scene is Landshut
among the Giant Mountains on the Bohemian Border of Silesia: an old
stone Town, where there is from of old a busy trade in thread and linen;
Town consisting, as is common there, of various narrow winding
streets comparable to spider-legs, and of a roomy central Market-place
comparable to the body of the spider; wide irregular Market-place with
the wooden spouts (dry for the moment) all projecting round it. Time,
4th December, 1741 (doubtless in the forenoon); unusual crowd of
population simmering about the Market-place, and full audience of
the better sort gravely attentive in the interior of the Rathhaus;
Burgermeister Spener LOQUITUR [_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 416.] (liable to
abridgment here and there, on warning given):--

"I enter, then, in the name of the Most Holy Trinity, upon an Office, to
which Divine Providence has appointed, and the gracious and potent hand
of a great King has raised me. Great as is the dignity [giddy height of
Mayoralty in Landshut], though undeserved, which the Ever-Merciful has
thus conferred upon me, equally great and much greater is the burden
connected therewith. I confess"--He confesses, in high-stalking earnest
wooden language very foreign to us in every way: (1.) That his shoulders
are too weak; but that he trusts in God. For (2.) it is God's doing; and
He that has called Spener, will give Spener strength, the essential work
being to do God's will, to promote His honor, and the common weal. (3.)
That he comes out of a smaller Office (Office not farther specified,
probably exterior to the RATHS-COLLEGE, and subaltern to the late
tyrannous Mayor and it), and has taken upon him the Mayoralty of this
Town (an evident fact!); but that the labor and responsibility are
dreadfully increased; and that the point is not increase of honor, of
respectability or income, but of heavy duties. (A sonorous, pious-minded
Spener; much more in earnest than readers now think!)

It is easy, intimates he, to govern a Town, if, as some have perhaps
done, you follow simply your own will, regardless of the sighs and
complaints your subjects utter for injustice undergone,--indifferent to
the thought that the caprice of one Town Sovereign is to be glorified by
so many thousand tears (dim glance into the past history of Landshut!).
Such Town Sovereign persecutes innocence, stops his ears to its cry;
flourishes his sharp scourge;--no one shall complain: for is it not
justice? thinks such a Town Sovereign. The reason is, He does not know
himself, poor man; has had his eye always on the duties of his subjects
towards him, and rarely or never on his towards them. A Sovereign Mayor
that governs by fear,--he must live in continual fear of every one, and
of himself withal. A weak basis: and capable of total overturn in one
day. On the contrary, the love of your burgher subjects: that, if you
can kindle it, will go on like a house on fire (AUSBRUCH EINES FEURES),
and streams of water won't put it out.... "And [let us now take Spener's
very words] if a man keep the fear of God before his eyes, there will be
no need for any other kind of fear.

"I will therefore, you especially High-honored Gentlemen, study to
direct all my judicial endeavors to the honor of the great God, and to
inviolable fidelity towards my most gracious King and Lord [Friedrich,
by Decision of Providence--at Mollwitz and elsewhere].

"To the Citizens of this Town, from of old so dear to me, and now by
Royal grace committed to my charge, and therefore doubly and trebly
to be held dear, I mean to devote myself altogether. I will, on every
occasion and occurrence, still more expressly than aforetime, stand by
them; and when need is, not fail to bring their case before the just
Throne of our Anointed [Friedrich, by Decision of Providence]. Justice
and fairness I will endeavor, under whatever complexities, to make
my loadstar. Yes, I shall and will, by means of this my Office, equip
myself with weapons whereby I may be capable to damp such humors
(INTELLIGENTIEN), should such still be (but I believe there are now none
such), as may repugn against the Royal interest, with possibility of
being dangerous; and to put a bridle on mouths that are unruly. And, to
say much in little compass, I will be faithful to God, to my King and to
this Town.

"Having now the honor and happiness to be put into Official friendship
with those Gentlemen who, as Burgermeisters, and as old and as new
Members of Council, have for long years made themselves renowned
among us, I will entertain, in respect of the former [the old] a firm
confidence That the zeal they have so strongly manifested for behoof of
the most serene Archducal House of Austria will henceforth burn in them
for our most Beloved Land's Prince whom God has now given us; that the
fire of their lately plighted truth and devotion, towards his
Royal Majesty, shall shine not in words only, but in works, and be
extinguished only with their lives. [Can that be, O Spener or Speer? Are
we alarm-clocks, that need only to be wound up, and told at what hour,
and for whom?] God, who puts Kings in and casts them out, has given to
us a no less potent Sovereign than supremely loving Land's-Father, who,
by the renown of his more than royal virtues, had taken captive the
hearts of his future subjects and children still sooner than even by his
arms, familiar otherwise to victory, he did the Land. And who shall
be puissant and mighty enough, now to lead men's minds in a contrary
direction; to control the Most High Power, ruler over hearts and Lands,
who had decreed it should be so; and again to change this change? [Hear
Spener: he has taken great pains with his Discourse, and understands
composition!]

"This change, High-honored Gentlemen [of the Catholic persuasion], is
also for you a not unhappy one. For our now as pious as wise King will,
especially in one most vital point, take pattern by the King of all
Kings; and means to be lord of his subjects only, not of the consciences
of his subjects. He requires nothing from you but what you are already
bound by God, by conscience, and duty, to render: to wit, obedience and
inviolable unbroken fidelity. And by that, and without more asked than
that, you will render yourselves worthy of his protection, and become
partakers of the Royal favor. Nay you will render yourselves all the
worthier in that high quarter, and the more meritorious towards our
civic commonweal, the more you, High-honored Gentlemen [of the Catholic
persuasion], accept, with all frankness of colleague-love and amity,
me and the Evangelical brother Raths now introduced by Royal grace and
power; and make the new position generously tenable and available to
us;--and thereby bind with us the more firmly the band of peace and
colleague-unity, for helping up this dear, and for some years greatly
fallen, Town along with us.

"We, for our poor part, will, one and all, strive only to surpass each
other in obedience and faith to our Most Gracious King. We will, as
Regents of the Citizenry committed to us, go before them with a good
example; and prove to all and every one, That, little and in war
untenable as our Landshut is, it shall, in extent and impregnability
of faith towards its Most Dearest Land's-Prince, approve itself
unconquerable. As well I as"--Professes now, in the most intricate
phraseology, that he, and Fischer and Umminger (giving not only the
titles, but a succinct history of all three, in a single sentence,
before he comes to the verb!), bring a true heart, &c. &c.--Or would
the reader perhaps like to see it IN NATURA, as a specimen of German
human-nature, and the art these Silesian spinners have in drawing out
their yarns?

"As well I as [1.] The Titular Herr Johann David Fischer, distinguished
trader and merchant of this Town, who, by his tradings in and beyond
our Silesian Countries, has made himself renowned, and by his merit and
address in particular instances [delicate instances known to Landshut,
not to us] has made himself beloved, who has now been installed as
Raths-Senior; and also as [2.] The Titular Herr Johann Caspar Ruffer,
well-respected Citizen, and Revenue-office Manager here, who for many
years has with much fidelity and vigilance managed the Revenue-office,
and who for his experience in the economic constitution of this Town has
been all-graciously nominated Raths-Herr;--and not less [3.] The Titular
Johann Jacob Umminger, whilom Advocate at Law in Breslau, who, for his
good studies in Law, and manifested skill in the practice of Law,
has been an all-graciously nominated Supernumerary Councillor and
Notary's-Adjunct among us:--As well I as these Three not only assure
you, High-honored Gentlemen, of all imaginable estimation and return
of love on our part; but do likewise assure all and sundry these
respectable Herren Town-Jurats [specially present], representing here
the universal well-beloved Citizenry of our Town,--that we bring a heart
sincere, and intent only on aiming at the welfare of a Citizenry so
loveworthy. We have the firm purpose by God's grace, so to order our
walk, and so to conduct our government that we may, one day, when
summoned from our judgment-seats to answer before the Universal
Judgment-seat of Christ, be able to say, with that pious King and Judge
of Israel: 'Lord, thou knowest if we have walked uprightly before thee.'
And we hope to understand that the rewards of justice, in that Life,
will be much more than those of injustice in this.

"We believe that the Most High will, in so far, bless these our honest
purposes and wholesome endeavors, as that the actual fruits thereof will
in time coming, and when Peace now soon expected (which God grant) has
returned to us, be manifest; and that if, in our Office, as is common,
we should rather have thorns of persecution than roses of recompense to
expect, yet to each of us there will at last accrue praise in the Earth
and reward in Heaven. [Hear Spener!]

"Meanwhile we will unite all our wishes, That the Almighty may vouchsafe
to his Royal Majesty, our now All-dearest Duke and Land's-Father, many
long years of life and of happy reign; and maintain this All-highest
Royal-Prussian and Elector-Brandenburgic House in supremest splendor and
prosperity, undisturbed to the end of all Days; and along with it,
our Town-Council, and whole Merchantry and Citizenry, safe under this
Prussian Sceptre, in perpetual blessing, peace and unity [what a
modest prayer!]: to all which may Heaven speak its powerful Amen!"
[_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 416-422.]--

Whereupon solemn waving of hats; indistinct sough of loyal murmur from
the universal Landshut Population; after which, continued to the due
extent, they return to their spindles and shuttles again.



Chapter VII.

FRIEDRICH PURPOSES TO MEND THE KLEIN-SCHNELLENDORF FAILURE: FORTUNES OF
THE BELLEISLE ARMAMENT.

We shall not dwell upon the movements of the French into Germany for the
purpose of overwhelming Austria, and setting up four subordinate little
Sovereignties to take their orders from Louis XV. The plan was of the
mad sort, not recognized by Nature at all; the diplomacy was wide,
expensive, grandiose, but vain and baseless; nor did the soldiering that
followed take permanent hold of men's memory. Human nature cannot afford
to follow out these loud inanities; and, at a certain distance of time,
is bound to forget them, as ephemera of no account in the general
sum. Difficult to say what profit human nature could get out of such
transaction. There was no good soldiering on the part of the French
except by gleams here and there; bad soldiering for the most part, and
the cause was radically bad. Let us be brief with it; try to snatch from
it, huge rotten heap of old exuviae and forgotten noises and deliriums,
what fractions of perennial may turn up for us, carefully forgetting the
rest.

Maillebois with his 40,000, we have seen how they got to Osnabruck, and
effectually stilled the war-fervor of little George II.; sent him home,
in fact, to England a checkmated man, he riding out of Osnabruck by one
gate, the French at the same moment marching in by the other. There
lies Maillebois ever since; and will lie, cantoned over Westphalia, "not
nearer than three leagues to the boundary of Hanover," for a year and
more. There let Maillebois lie, till we see him called away else-wither,
upon which the gallant little George, check-mate being lifted, will
get into notable military activity, and attempt to draw his sword
again,--though without success, owing to the laggard Dutch. Which also,
as British subjects, if not otherwise, the readers of this Book will
wish to see something of. Maillebois did not quite keep his stipulated
distance of "three leagues from the boundary" (being often short of
victual), and was otherwise no good neighbor. Among his Field-Officers,
there is visible (sometimes in trouble about quarters and the like)
a Marquis du Chatelet,--who, I find, is Husband or Ex-Husband to the
divine Emilie, if readers care to think of that! [_Campagnes_ (i. 45,
193); and French Peerage-Books,? DU CHATELAT.] Other known face, or
point of interest for or against, does not turn up in the Maillebois
Operation in those parts.

As for the other still grander Army, Army of the Oriflamme as we have
called it,--which would be Belleisle's, were not he so overwhelmed with
embassying, and persuading the Powers of Germany,--this, since we last
saw it, has struck into a new course, which it is essential to indicate.
The major part of it (Four rear Divisions! if readers recollect) lay at
Ingolstadt, its place of arms; while the Vanward Three Divisions, under
Maurice Comte de Saxe, flowed onward, joining with Bavaria at Passau;
down the Donau Country, to Linz and farther, terrifying Vienna itself;
and driving all the Court to Presburg, with (fabulous) "MORIAMUR PRO
REGE NOSTRO MARIA THERESIA," but with actual armament of Tolpatches,
Pandours, Warasdins, Uscocks and the like unsightly beings of a
predatory centaur nature. Which fine Hungarian Armament, and others
still more ominous, have been diligently going on, while Karl Albert sat
enjoying his Homagings at Linz, his Pisgah-views Vienna-ward; and asking
himself, "Shall we venture forward, and capture Vienna, then?"

The question is intricate, and there are many secret biasings concerned
in the solution of it. Friedrich, before Klein-Schnellendorf time, had
written eagerly, had sent Schmettau with eager message, "Push forward;
it is feasible, even easy: cut the matter by the root!" This, they say,
was Karl Albert's own notion, had not the French overruled him;--not
willing, some guess, he should get Austria, and become too independent
of them all at once. Nay, it appears Karl Albert had inducements of his
own towards Bohemia rather. The French have had Kur-Sachsen to manage
withal; and there are interests in Bohemia of his and theirs,--clippings
of Bohemia promised him as bribes, besides that "Kingdom of Moravia,"
to get his 21,000 set on march. "Clippings of Bohemia? Interests of
Kur-Sachsen's in that Country?" asks Karl Albert with alarm: and thinks
it will be safer, were he himself present there, while Saxony and
France do the clippings in question! Sure enough, he did not push on.
Belleisle, from the distance, strongly opined otherwise; Karl Albert
himself had jealous fears about Bohmen. Friedrich's importunities and
urgencies were useless: and the one chance there ever was for Karl
Albert, for Belleisle and the Ruin of Austria, vanished without return.

Karl Albert has turned off, leftwards, towards his Bohemian Enterprises:
French, Bavarians, Saxons, by their several routes, since the last days
of October, are all on march that way. We will mark an exact date here
and there, as fixed point for the reader's fancy. Poor Karl Albert, he
had sat some six weeks at Linz,--about three weeks since that Homaging
there (October 2d);--imaginary Sovereign of Upper Austria; looking over
to Vienna and the Promised Land in general. And that fine Pisgah-view
was all he ever had of it. Of Austrian or other Conquests earthly
or heavenly, there came none to him in this Adventure;--mere MINUS
quantities they all proved. For a few weeks more, there are, blended
with awful portents, an imaginary gleam or two in other quarters; after
which, nothing but black horror and disgrace, deepening downwards into
utter darkness, for the poor man. Belleisle is an imaginary Sun-god; but
the poor Icarus, tempted aloft in that manner into the earnest elements,
and melting at once into quills and rags, is a tragic reality!--Let us
to our dates:--

"OCTOBER 24th, The Bavarian Troops, who had lain at Mautern on the Donau
some time, forty miles from Vienna and the Promised Land, got under
way again;--not FORWARD, but sharp to left, or northward, towards the
Bohemian parts. Thither all the Belleisle Armaments are now bound; and a
general rallying of them is to be at Prag; for conquest of that Country,
as more inviting than Austria at present. Comte de Saxe, who had lain at
St. Polten, a march to southward of Mautern, he with the Vanward of the
great Belleisle Army, bestirred himself at the same time; and followed
steadily (Karl Albert in person was with Saxe), at a handy distance by
parallel roads. To Prag may be about 200 miles. Across the Mannhartsberg
Country, clear out of Austria, into Bohmen, towards Prag. At Budweis,
or between that and Tabor, Towns of our old friend Zisca's, of which
we shall hear farther in these Wars; Towns important by their
intricate environment of rock and bog, far up among the springs of
the Moldau,--there can these Bavarians, and this French Vanward of
Belleisle, halt a little, till the other parties, who are likewise on
march, get within distance."

For in these same days, as hinted above, the Rearward of the Belleisle
Army (Four Divisions, strength not accurately given) pushes forward from
Donauworth, well rested, through the Bavarian Passes, towards Bohemia
and Prag: these have a longer march (say 250 miles)? to northeast; and
the leader of them is one Polastron, destined unhappily to meet us on a
future occasion. With them go certain other Bavarians; accompanying or
preceding, as in the Vanward case. And then the Saxons (21,000 strong,
a fine little Army, all that Saxony has) are, at the same time, come
across the Metal Mountains (ERZGEBIRGE), in quest of those Bohemian
clippings, of that Kingdom of Moravia: and march from the westward
upon Prag,--Rutowsky leading them. Comte de Rutowsky, Comte de Saxe's
Half-Brother, one of the Three Hundred and Fifty-four:--with whom is
CHEVALIER de Saxe, a second younger ditto; and I think there is still a
third, who shall go unnamed. In this grand Oriflamme Expedition, Four
of the Royal-Saxon Bastards altogether." Who cost us more distinguishing
than they are worth!

Chief General of these Saxons, says an Authentic Author, is Rutowsky;
got from a Polish mother, I should guess: he commands in chief
here;--once had a regiment under Friedrich Wilhelm, for a while; but
has not much head for strategy, it may be feared. But mark that Fourth
individual of the Three Hundred and Fifty-four, who has a great deal.
Fourth individual, called Comte de Saxe, who is now in that French
Vanward a good way to east, was (must I again remind you!) the produce
of the fair Aurora von Konigsmark, Sister of the Konigsmark who vanished
instantaneously from the light of day at Hanover long since, and has
never reappeared more. It was in search of him that Aurora, who was
indeed a shining creature (terribly insolvent all her life, whose charms
even Charles XII. durst not front), came to Dresden; and,--in this
Comte de Saxe, men see the result. Tall enough, restless enough; most
eupeptic, brisk, with a great deal of wild faculty,--running to
waste, nearly all. There, with his black arched eyebrows, black swift
physically smiling eyes, stands Monseigneur le Comte, one of the
strongest-bodied and most dissolute-minded men now living on our Planet.
He is now turned of forty: no man has been in such adventures, has swum
through such seas of transcendent eupepticity determined to have its
fill. In this new Quasi-sacred French Enterprise, under the Banner
of Belleisle and the Chateauroux, he has at last, after many trials,
unconsciously found his culmination: and will do exploits of a wonderful
nature,--very worthy of said Banner and its patrons.

"Here, then, are Three streams or Armaments pouring forward upon Prag;
perhaps some 60,000 men in all:--a good deal uncertain what they are to
do at Prag, except arrive simultaneously so far as possible. Belleisle,
far off, has fallen sick in these critical days. Comte de Saxe cannot
see his way in the matter at all: 'What are we to live upon,' asks Comte
de Saxe, 'were there nothing more!'--For, simultaneously with these
Three Armaments on march, there is an important Austrian one, likewise
on the road for Prag: that of Grand-Duke Franz, who has left Presburg,
with say 30,000 (including the Pandour element); and duly meets the
Neipperg, or late Silesian Army;--well capable, now, to do a stroke
upon the Three Armaments, if he be speedy? 'November 7th' it was when
Grand-Duke Franz picked up Neipperg, 'at Frating' deep in Moravia
(November 7th, the very day while Friedrich was getting homaged in
Breslau), and turned him northwestward again. The Grand-Duke, in such
strength, marches Rag-ward what he can; might be there before the
French, were he swift; and is at any rate in disagreeable proximity to
that Budmeis-Tabor Country, appointed as one's halting-place."

And Belleisle, in these critical days, is--consider it!--"Poor
Belleisle, he has all the Election Votes ready; he has done unspeakable
labors in the diplomatic way; and leaves Europe in ebullition and
conflagration behind him. He has all these Armies in motion, and has got
rid of 'that Moravia,'--given it to Saxony, who adds the title 'King of
Moravia' to his other dignities, and has set on march those 21,000 men.
'Would he were ready with them!' Belleisle had been saying, ever since
the Treaty for them,--Treaty was, September 19th. Belleisle, to expedite
him, came to Dresden [what day is not said, but deep in October];
intending next for the Prag Country, there to commence General, the
diplomacies being satisfactorily done. Valori ran over from Berlin to
wait upon him there. Alas, the Saxons are on march, or nearly so; but
the great man himself, worn down with these Herculean labors, has fallen
into rheumatic fever; is in bed, out at Hubertsburg (serene Country
Palace of his Moravian Polish Majesty); and cannot get the least well,
to march in person with the Three Armaments, with the flood of things he
has set reeling and whirling at such rate.

"The sympathies of Valori go deep at this spectacle. The Alcides, who
was carrying the axis of the world, fallen down in physical rheumatism!
But what can sympathies avail? The great man sees the Saxons march
without him. The great man, getting no alleviation from physicians,
determines, in his patriotic heroism, to surrender glory itself; writes
home to Court, 'That he is lamed, disabled utterly; that they must
nominate another General.' And they nominate another; nominate Broglio,
the fat choleric Marshal, of Italian breed and physiognomy, whom we
saw at Strasburg last year, when Friedrich was there. Broglio will quit
Strasburg too soon, and come. A man fierce in fighting, skilled too in
tactics; totally incompetent in strategy, or the art of LEADING armies,
and managing campaigns;--defective in intelligence indeed, not wise to
discern; dim of vision, violent of temper; subject to sudden cranks, a
headlong, very positive, loud, dull and angry kind of man; with whose
tumultuous imbecilities the great Belleisle will be sore tried by and
by. 'I reckon this,' Valori says, 'the root of all our woes;' this
Letter which the great Belleisle wrote home to Court. Let men mark it,
therefore, as a cardinal point,--and snatch out the date, when they have
opportunity upon the Archives of France. [See Valori, i. 131.]

"Monseigneur the Comte de Saxe, before quitting the Vienna Countries,
had left some 10,000 French and Bavarians, posted chiefly in Linz, under
a Comte de Segur, to maintain those Donau Conquests, which have cost
only the trouble of marching into them. Count Khevenhuller has ceased
working at the ramparts of Vienna, nothing of siege to be apprehended
now, civic terror joyfully vanishing again; and busies himself
collecting an Army at Vienna, with intent of looking into those same
French Segurs, before long. It is probable the so-called Conquests on
the Donau will not be very permanent.

"NOVEMBER 19th-21st, The Three Belleisle Armaments, Karl Albert's first,
have, simultaneously enough for the case, arrived on three sides of
Prag; and lie looking into it,--extremely uncertain what to do when
there. To Comte de Saxe, to Schmettau, who is still here, the outlook
of this grand Belleisle Army, standing shelterless, provisionless, grim
winter at hand, long hundreds of miles from home or help, is in the
highest degree questionable, though the others seem to make little of
it: 'Fight the Grand-Duke when he comes,' say they; 'beat him, and--'
'Or suppose, he won't fight? Or suppose, we are beaten by him?' answer
Saxe and Schmettau, like men of knowledge, in the same boat with men of
none. (We have no strong place, or footing in this Country: what are we
to do? Take Prag!' advises Comte de Saxe, with earnestness, day after
day. [His Letters on it to Karl Albert and others (in Espagnac, i.
94-99).)] 'Take Prag: but how?' answer they. 'By escalade, by surprise,
and sword in hand, answers he: 'Ogilvy their General has but 3,000, and
is perhaps no wizard at his trade: we can do it, thus and thus, and
then farther thus; and I perceive we are a lost Army if we don't!'
So counsels Maurice Comte de Saxe, brilliant, fervent in his military
views;--and, before it is quite too late, Schmettau and he persuade
Karl Albert, persuade Rutowsky chief of the Saxons; and Count Polastron,
Gaisson or whatever subaltern Counts there are, of French type, have to
accede, and be saved in spite of themselves. And so,

"SATURDAY NIGHT, 25th NOVEMBER, 1741, brightest of moonshiny nights, our
dispositions are all made: Several attacks, three if I remember; one of
them false, under some Polastron, Gaisson, from the south side; a couple
of them true, from the northwest and the southeast sides, under Maurice
with his French, and Rutowsky with his Saxons, these two. And there
is great marching 'on the side of the Karl-Thor (Charles-Gate),' where
Rutowsky is; and by Count Maurice 'behind the Wischerad;'--and shortly
after midnight the grand game begins. That French-Polastron attack,
false, though with dreadful cannonade from the south, attracts poor
Ogilvy with almost all his forces to that quarter; while the couple of
Saxon Captains (Rutowsky not at once successful, Maurice with his French
completely so) break in upon Ogilvy from rearward, on the right flank
and on the left; and ruin the poor man. Military readers will find the
whole detail of it well given in Espagnac. Looser account is to be had
in the Book they call Mauvillon's." [_Derniere Guerre de Boheme,_
i. 252-264. Saxe's own Account (Letter to Chevalier de Folard) is in
Espagnac, i. 89 et seqq.]

One thing I remember always: the bright moonlight; steeples of Prag
towering serene in silvery silence, and on a sudden the wreaths of
volcanic fire breaking out all round them. The opposition was but
trifling, null in some places, poor Ogilvy being nothing of a wizard,
and his garrison very small. It fell chiefly on Rutowsky; who met it
with creditable vigor, till relieved by the others. Comte Maurice, too,
did a shifty thing. Circling round by the outside of the Wischerad, by
rural roads in the bright moonshine, he had got to the Wall at
last, hollow slope and sheer wall; and was putting-to his
scaling-ladders,--when, by ill luck, they proved too short! Ten feet or
so; hopelessly too short. Casting his head round, Maurice notices the
Gallows hard by: "There, see you, are a few short ladders: MES ENFANS,
bring me these, and we will splice with rope!" Supplemented by the
gallows, Maurice soon gets in, cuts down the one poor sentry; rushes
to the Market-place, finds all his Brothers rushing, embraces them with
"VICTOIRE!" and "You see I am eldest; bound to be foremost of you!"

"No point in all the War made a finer blaze in the French imagination,
or figured better in the French gazettes, than this of the Scalade of
Prag, 25th November, 1741. And surely it was important to get hold of
Prag; nevertheless, intrinsically it is no great thing, but an opportune
small thing, done by the Comte de Saxe, in spite of such contradiction
as we saw."

It was while news of this exploit was posting towards Berlin, but
not yet arrived there, that Friedrich, passing through the apartment,
intimated to Hyndford, "Milord, all is divulged, our Klein-Schnellendorf
mystery public as the house-tops;" and vanished with a shrug of the
shoulders,--thinking doubtless to himself, "What is OUR next move to be,
in consequence?" Treaty with Kur-Baiern (November 4th) he had already
signed in consequence, expressly declaring for Kur-Baiern, and the
French intentions towards him. This news from Prag--Prag handsomely
captured, if Vienna had been foolishly neglected--put him upon a new
Adventure, of which in following Chapters we shall hear more.



THE FRENCH SAFE IN PRAG; KAISERWAHL JUST COMING ON.

Grand-Duke Franz, with that respectable amount of Army under him, ought
surely to have advanced on Prag, and done some stroke of war for relief
of it, while time yet was. Grand-Duke Franz, his Brother Karl with him
and his old Tutor Neipperg, both of whom are thought to have some skill
in war, did advance accordingly. But then withal there was risk at Prag;
and he always paused again, and waited to consider. From Frating, on the
16th, [Espagnac, i. 87.] he had got to Neuhaus, quite across Mahren into
Bohemian ground, and there joined with Lobkowitz and what Bohemian
force there was; by this time an Army which you would have called much
stronger than the French. Forward, therefore! Yes; but with pauses, with
considerations. Pause of two days at Neuhaus; thence to Tabor (famed
Zisca's Tabor), a safe post, where again pause three days. From Tabor
is broad highway to Prag, only sixty miles off now:--screwing their
resolution to the sticking-point, Grand-Duke and Consorts advance at
length with fixed determination, all Friday, all Saturday (November
24th, 25th), part of Sunday too, not thinking it shall be only PART;
and their light troops are almost within sight of Prag, when--they learn
that Prag is scaladed the night before, and quite settled; that there
is nothing except destruction to be looked for in Prag! Back again,
therefore, to the Tabor-and-Budweis land. They strike into that boggy
broken country about Budweis, some 120 miles south of Prag; and will
there wait the signs of the times.

Grand-Duke Franz had seen war, under Seckendorf, under Wallis and
otherwise, in the disastrous Turk Countries; but, though willing
enough, was never much of a soldier: as to Neipperg, among his own men
especially, the one cry is, He ought to go about his business out of
Austrian Armies, as an imbecile and even a traitor. "Is it conceivable
that Friedrich could have beaten us, in that manner, except by buying
Neipperg in the first place? Neipperg and the generality of them, in
that luckless Silesian Business? Glogau scaladed with the loss of half
a dozen men; Brieg gone within a week; Neisse ditto: and Mollwitz, above
all, where, in spite of Romer and such Horse-charging as was never seen,
we had to melt, dissolve, and roll away in the glitter of the evening
sun!" The common notion is, they are traitors, partial-traitors, one
and all. [_Guerre de Boheme,_ saepius.] Poor Neipperg he has seen hard
service, had ugly work to do: it was he that gave away Belgrade to the
Turks (so interpreting his orders), and the Grand Vizier, calling him
Dog of a Giaour: spat in his face, not far from hanging him; and the
Kaiser and Vienna people, on his coming home, threw him into prison, and
were near cutting off his head. And again, after such sleety marchings
through the Mountains, he has had to dissolve at Mollwitz; float away in
military deluge in the manner we saw. And now, next winter, here is he
lodged among the upland bogs at Budweis, escorted by mere curses. What
a life is the soldier's, like other men's; what a master is the world!
Aulic Cabinet is not all-wise; but may readily be wiser than the vulgar,
and, with a Maria Theresa at his head, it is incapable of truculent
impiety like that. Neipperg, guilty of not being a Eugene, is not hanged
as a traitor; but placed quietly as Commandant in Luxemburg, spends
there the afternoon of his life, in a more commodious manner. Friedrich
had, of late, rather admired his movements on the Neisse River; and
found him a stiff article to deal with.

The French, now with Prag for their place of arms, stretched themselves
as far as Pisek, some seventy miles southwestward; occupied Pisek,
Pilsen and other Towns and posts, on the southwest side, some seventy
miles from Prag; looking towards the Bavarian Passes and homeward
succors that might come: the Saxons, a while after, got as far as
Teutschbrod, eighty miles on the southeastward or Moravian hand. Behind
these outposts, Prag may be considered to hang on Silesia, and have
Friedrich for security. This, in front or as forecourt of Friedrich's
Silesia, this inconsiderable section, was all of Bohemian Country the
French and Confederates ever held, and they did not hold this long. As
for Karl Albert, he had his new pleasant Dream of Sovereignty at Prag;
Titular of Upper Austria, and now of Bohmen as well; and enjoyed his
Feast of the Barmecide, and glorious repose in the captured Metropolis,
after difficulty overcome. December 7th, he was homaged (a good few of
the Nobility attending, for which they smarted afterwards), with much
processioning, blaring and TE-DEUM-ing: on the 19th he rolled off, home
to Munchen; there to await still higher Romish-Imperial glories, which
it is hoped are now at hand.

A day or two after the Capture of Prag, Marechal de Belleisle, partially
cured of his rheumatisms, had hastened to appear in that City; and for
above four weeks he continued there, settling, arranging, ordering all
things, in the most consummate manner, with that fine military head of
his. About Christmas time, arrived Marechal de Broglio, his unfortunate
successor or substitute; to whom he made everything over; and hastened
off for Frankfurt, where the final crisis of KAISERWAHL is now at
hand, and the topstone of his work is to be brought out with shouting.
Marechal de Broglio had an unquiet Winter of it in his new command; and
did not extend his quarters, but the contrary.



BROGLIO HAS A BIVOUAC OF PISEK; KHEVENHULLER LOOKS IN UPON THE DONAU
CONQUESTS.

Grand-Duke Franz edged himself at last a little out of that
Tabor-Budweis region, and began looking Prag-ward again;--hung about,
for some time, with his Hungarian light-troops scouring the country;
but still keeping Prag respectfully to right, at seventy miles distance.
December 28th, to Broglio's alarm, he tried a night-attack on Pisek, the
chief French outpost, which lies France-ward too, and might be vital.
But he found the French (Broglio having got warning) unexpectedly ready
for him at Pisek,--drawn up in the dark streets there, with torrents of
musketry ready for his Pandours and him;--and entirely failed of Pisek.
Upon which he turned eastward to the Budweis-Tabor fastnesses again;
left Brother Karl as Commander in those parts (who soon leaves Lobkowitz
as Substitute, Vienna in the idle winter-time being preferable);--left
Brother Karl, and proceeded in person, south, towards the Donau
Countries, to see how Khevenhuller might be prospering, who is in the
field there, as we shall hear.

Of Pisek and the night-skirmish at Pisek, glorious to France, think
all the Gazettes, I should have said nothing, were it not that
Marechal Broglio, finding what a narrow miss he had made, established a
night-watch there, or bivouac, for six weeks to come; such as never was
before or since: Cavalry and Infantry, in quantity, bivouacking there,
in the environs of Pisek, on the grim Bohemian snow or snow-slush, in
the depth of winter, nightly for six weeks, without whisper of an enemy
at any time; whereby the Marechal did save Pisek (if Pisek was ever
again in danger), but froze horse and man to the edge of destruction
or into it; so that the "Bivouac of Pisek" became proverbial in French
Messrooms, for a generation coming. [_Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 23, &c.]
And one hears in the mind a clangorous nasal eloquence from antique
gesticulative mustachio-figures, witty and indignant,--who are now gone
to silence again, and their fruitless bivouacs, and frosty and fiery
toils, tumbling pell-mell after them. This of Pisek was but one of
the many unwise hysterical things poor Broglio did, in that difficult
position; which, indeed, was too difficult for any mortal, and for
Broglio beyond the average.

One other thing we note: Graf von Khevenhuller, solid Austrian man,
issued from Vienna, December 31st, last day of the Year, with an Army
of only some 15,000, but with an excellent military head of his own, to
look into those Conquests on the Donau. Which he finds, as he expected,
to be mere conquests of stubble, capable of being swept home again at
a very rapid rate. "Khevenhuller, here as always, was consummate in his
choice of posts," says Lloyd; [General Lloyd, _History of Seven-Years
War,_ &c. (incidentally, somewhere).]--discovered where the ARTERIES
of the business lay, and how to handle the same. By choice of posts, by
silent energy and military skill, Khevenhuller very rapidly sweeps Segur
back; and shuts him up in Linz. There Segur, since the first days of
January, is strenuously barricading himself; "wedging beams from house
to house, across the streets;"--and hopes to get provision, the Donau
and the Bavarian streams being still open behind him; and to hold out a
little. It will be better if he do,--especially for poor Karl Albert
and his poor Bavaria! Khevenhuller has also detached through the Tyrol
a General von Barenklau (BEAR'S-CLAW, much heard of henceforth in
these Wars), who has 12,000 regulars; and much Hussar-folk under bloody
Mentzel:-across the Tyrol, we say; to fall in upon Bavaria and Munchen
itself; which they are too like doing with effect. Ought not Karl Albert
to be upon the road again? What a thing, were the Kaiser Elect taken
prisoner by Pandours!

In fine, within a short two weeks or so, Karl Albert quits Munchen, as
no safe place for him; comes across to Mannheim to his Cousin Philip,
old Kur-Pfalz, whom we used to know, now extremely old, but who has
marriages of Grand-daughters, and other gayeties, on hand; which a
Cousin and prospective Kaiser--especially if in peril of his life--might
as well come and witness. This is the excuse Karl Albert makes to an
indulgent Public; and would fain make to himself, but cannot. Barenklau
and Khevenhuller are too indisputable. Nay this rumor of Friedrich's
"Peace with Austria," divulged Bargain of Klein-Schnellendorf, if this
also (horrible to think) were true--! Which Friedrich assures him it is
not. Karl Albert writes to Friedrich, and again writes; conjuring him,
for the love of God, To make some thrust, then, some inroad or other,
on those man-devouring Khevenhullers; and take them from his, Karl
Albert's, throat and his poor Country's. Which Friedrich, on his own
score, is already purposing to do.



Chapter VIII. -- FRIEDRICH STARTS FOR MORAVIA, ON A NEW SCHEME HE HAS.

The Austrian Court had not kept Friedrich's secret of
Klein-Schnellendorf, hardly even for a day. It was whispered to the
Dowager Empress, or Empresses; who whispered it, or wrote it, to some
other high party; by whom again as usual:--in fact, the Austrian Court,
having once got their Neipperg safe to hand, took no pains to keep the
secret; but had probably an interest rather in letting it filter out, to
set Friedrich and his Allies at variance. At all events, in the space of
a few weeks, as we have seen, the rumor of a Treaty between Austria and
Friedrich was everywhere rife; Friedrich, as he had engaged, everywhere
denying it, and indeed clearly perceiving that there was like to be no
ground for acknowledging it. The Austrian Court, instead of "completing
the Treaty before Newyear's-day," had broken the previous bargain;
evidently not meaning to complete; intent rather to wait upon their
Hungarian Insurrection, and the luck of War.

There is now, therefore, a new turn in the game. And for this also
Friedrich has been getting the fit card ready; and is not slow to play
it. Some time ago, November 4th,--properly November 1st, hardly three
weeks since that of Klein-Schnellendorf,--finding the secret already out
("whispered of at Breslau, 28th October," casually testifies Hyndford),
he had tightened his bands with France; had, on November 4th, formally
acceded to Karl Albert's Treaty with France. [Accession agreed to,
"Frankfurt, Nov. 1st," 1741; ratified "Nov. 4th."] Glatz to be his:
he will not hear of wanting Glatz; nor of wanting elsewhere the proper
Boundary for Schlesien, "Neisse River both banks" (which Neipperg
had agreed to, in his late Sham-Bargain);--quite strict on these
preliminaries.

And furthermore, Kur-Sachsen being now a Partner in that French-Bavarian
Treaty,--and a highly active one (with 21,000 in the field for him), who
is "King of Moravia" withal, and has some considerable northern Paring
of Bohemia thrown in, by way of "Road to Moravia,"--Friedrich made, at
the same time, special Treaty with Kur-Sachsen, on the points specially
mutual to them; on the Boundary point, first of all. Which latter treaty
is dated also November 1st, and was "ratified November 8th."

Treaty otherwise not worth reading; except perhaps as it shows us
Friedrich putting, in his brief direct way, Kur-Sachsen at once into
Austria's place, in regard to Ober-Schlesien. "Boundary between
your Polish Majesty and me to be the River Neisse PLUS a full German
mile;"--which (to Belleisle's surprise) the Polish Majesty is willing
to accept; and consents, farther, Friedrich being of succinct turn, That
Commissioners go directly and put down the boundary-stones, and so an
end. "Let the Silesian matter stand where it stood," thinks Friedrich:
"since Austria will not, will you? Put down the boundary-pillars,
then!"--an interesting little glance into Friedrich's inner man. And
a Prussian Boundary Commissioner, our friend Nussler the man, did duly
appear;--whom perhaps we shall meet,--though no Saxon one quite did.
[Busching, _Beitrage,_ i. 339 (? NUSSLER).] It is this boundary clause,
it is Friedrich's little decision, "Put down the pillars, then," that
alone can now interest any mortal in this Saxon Bargain; the clause
itself, and the bargain itself, having quite broken down on the Saxon
side, and proved imaginary as a covenant made in dreams. Could not be
helped, in the sequel!--

Meanwhile, the preliminary diplomacies being done in this manner,
Friedrich had ordered certain of his own Forces to get in motion a
little; ordered Leopold, who has had endless nicety of management, since
the French and Saxons came into those Bohemian Circles of his, to
go upon Glatz; to lay fast hold of Glatz, for one thing. And farther
eastward, Schwerin, by order, has lately gone across the Mountains;
seized Troppau, Friedenthal; nay Olmutz itself, the Capital of
Mahren,--in one day (December 27th), garrison of Olmutz being too weak
to resist, and the works in disrepair. "In Heaven's name, what are
your intentions, then?" asked the Austrians there. "Peaceable in the
extreme," answered Schwerin, "if only yours are. And if they are
NOT--!" There sits Schwerin ever since, busy strengthening himself, and
maintains the best discipline; waiting farther orders.

"The Austrians will not complete their bargain of Klein-Schnellendorf?"
thinks this young King; "Very well; we will not press them to
completion. We will not ourselves complete, should they now press.
We will try another method, and that without loss of time."--It was
a pungent reflection with Friedrich that Karl Albert had not pushed
forward on Vienna, from Linz that time, but had blindly turned off to
the left, and thrown away his one chance. "Cannot one still mend it;
cannot one still do something of the like?" thinks Friedrich now:
"Schwerin in Olmutz; Prussian Troops cantoned in the Highlands of
Silesia, or over in Bohemia itself, near the scene of action; the Saxons
eastward as far as Teutschbrod, still nearer; the French triumphant at
Prag, and reinforcement on the road for them: a combined movement on
Vienna, done instantly and with an impetus!" That is the thing Friedrich
is now bent upon; nor will he, like Karl Albert, be apt to neglect the
hour of tide, which is so inexorable in such operations.

At Berlin, accordingly, he has been hurrying on his work, inspection,
preparation of many kinds,--Marriage of his Brother August Wilhelm,
for one business; [6th January, 1742 (in Bielfeld, ii. 55-69, exuberant
account of the Ceremony, and of B.'s part in it).]--and (January 18th),
after a stay of two months, is off fieldward again, on this new project.
To Dresden, first of all; Saxony being an essential element; and Valori
being appointed to meet him there on the French side. It is January
20th, 1742, when Friedrich arrives; due Opera festivities, "triple
salute of all the guns," fail not at Dresden; but his object was not
these at all. Polish Majesty is here, and certain of the warlike Bastard
Brothers home from Winter-quarters, Comte de Saxe for one; Valori also,
punctually as due; and little Graf von Bruhl, highest-dressed of human
creatures, who is factotum in this Court.

"Your Polish Majesty, by treaty and title you are King of Moravia
withal: now is the time, now or never, to become so in fact! Forward
with your Saxons:" urges Friedrich: "The Austrians and their Lobkowitz
are weak in that Country: at Iglau, just over the Moravian border, they
have formed a Magazine; seize that, snatch it from Lobkowitz: that gives
us footing and basis there. Forward with your Saxons; Valori gives us
so-many French; I myself will join with 20,000: swift, steady, all at
once; we can seize Moravia, who knows if not Vienna itself, and for
certain drive a stroke right home into the very bowels of the Enemy!"
That is Friedrich's theme from the first hour of his arrival, and during
all the four-and-twenty that he stayed.

In one hour, Polish Majesty, who is fonder of tobacco and pastimes than
of business, declared himself convinced;--and declared also that
the time of Opera was come; whither the two Majesties had to proceed
together, and suspend business for a while. Polish Majesty himself was
very easily satisfied; but with the others, as Valori reports it, the
argument was various, long and difficult. "Winter time; so dangerous, so
precarious," answer Bruhl and Comte de Saxe: There is this danger, this
uncertainty, and then that other;--which the King and Valori, with all
their eloquence, confute. "Impossible, for want of victual," answers
Maurice at last, driven into a corner: "Iglau, suppose we get it, will
soon be eaten; then where is our provision?"--"Provision?" answers
Valori: "There is M. de Sechelles, Head of our Commissariat in Prag;
such a Commissary never was before." "And you consent, if I take that in
hand?" urges Friedrich upon them. They are obliged to consent, on that
proviso. Friedrich undertakes Sechelles: the Enterprise cannot now
be refused. [_OEuvres de Frederic_, ii. 170; Valori, i. 139; &c. &c.]
"Alert, then; not a moment to be lost! Good-night; AU REVOIR, my noble
friends!"--and to-morrow many hours before daybreak, Friedrich is off
for Prag, leaving Dresden to awaken when it can.

At Prag he renews acquaintance with his old maladroit Strasburg friend,
Marechal de Broglio, not with increase of admiration, as would seem;
declines the demonstrations and civilities of Broglio, business being
urgent: finds M. de Sechelles to be in truth the supreme of living
Commissaries (ready, in words which Friedrich calls golden, "to make
the impossible possible"): "Only march, then, noble Saxons: swift!"--and
dashes off again, next morning, to northeastward, through Leopold's
Bohemian cantonments, Glatz-ward by degrees, to be ready with his own
share of the affair; no delay in him, for one. January 24th, after
Konigsgratz and other Prussian posts,--January 24th, which is elsewhere
so notable a day,--his route goes northeast, to Glatz, a hundred miles
away, among the intricacies of the Giant Mountains, hither side of the
Silesian Highlands; wild route for winter season, if the young King
feared any route. From Berlin, hither and farther, he may have
gone well-nigh his seven hundred miles within the week; rushing on
continually (starts, at say four in the winter morning); doing endless
business, of the ordering sort, as he speeds along.

Glatz, a southwestern mountainous Appendage to Silesia, abutting on
Moravia and Bohemia, is a small strong Country; upon which, ever since
the first Friedrich times, we have seen him fixed; claiming it too, as
expenses from the Austrians, since they will not bargain. For he rises
Sibyl-like: a year ago, you might have had him with his 100,000 to boot,
for the one Duchy of Glogau; and now--! At Glatz or in these adjacent
Bohemian parts, the Young Dessauer has been on duty, busy enough, ever
since the late Siege of Neisse: Glatz Town the Young Dessauer soon got,
when ordered; Town, Population, Territory, all is his,--all but the high
mountain Fortress (centre of the Town of Glatzj), with its stiff-necked
Austrian Garrison shut up there, which he is wearing out by hunger. We
remember the little Note from Valori's waistcoat-pocket, "Don't give
him Glatz, if you can possibly help it!" In his latest treaties with the
French and their Allies, Friedrich has very expressly bargained for the
Country (will even pay money for it); [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ ii.
85.] and is determined to have it, when the Austrians next take to
bargaining. Of Glatz Fortress, now getting hungered out by Leopold's
Prussian Detachment, I will say farther, though Friedrich heeds these
circumstances little at present, that it stands on a scarped rock, girt
by the grim intricate Hills; and that in the Arsenal, in dusty fabulous
condition, lies a certain Drum, which readers may have heard of. Drum
is not a fable, but an antique reality fallen flaccid; made, by express
bequest, as is mythically said, from the skin of Zisca, above 300
years ago: altogether mythic that latter clause. Drum, Fortress, Town,
Villages and Territory, all shall be Friedrich's, had hunger done its
work. [Town already, after short scuffle, 14th January, 1742; Fortress,
by hunger (no firing nor being fired on, in the interim), 25th April
following,--when the once 2,000 of garrison, worn to about 200, pale
as shadows, marched away to Brunn; "only ten of them able for duty on
arriving." (Orlich, i. 174.)]

Friedrich, while at Glatz this time, gave a new Dress to the Virgin, say
all the Biographers; of which the story is this. Holy Virgin stood in
the main Convent of Glatz, in rather a threadbare condition, when the
Prussians first approached; the Jesuits, and ardently Orthodox of both
sexes, flagitating Heaven and her with their prayers, that she would
vouchsafe to keep the Prussians out. In which case pious Madame
Something, wife of the Austrian Commandant, vowed her a new suit of
clothes. Holy Virgin did not vouchsafe; on the Contrary, here the
Prussians are, and Starvation with them. "Courage, nevertheless, my new
friends!" intimates Friedrich: "The Prussians are not bugaboos, as you
imagined: Holy Virgin shall have a new coat, all the same!" and was at
the expense of the bit of broadcloth with trimmings. He was in the way
of making such investments, in his light sceptical humor; and found
them answer to him. At Glatz, and through those Bohemian and Silesian
Cantonments, he sets his people in motion for the Moravian Expedition;
rapidly stirs up the due Prussian detachments from their Christmas rest
among the Mountains; and has work enough in these regions, now here now
there. Schwerin is already in Olmutz, for a month past; and towards him,
or his neighborhood, the march is to be.

January 26th, Friedrich, now with considerable retinue about him, gets
from Glatz to Landskron, some fifty miles Olmutz-ward; such a march as
General Stille never saw,--"through the ice and through the snow, which
covered that dreadful Chain of Mountains between Bohmen and Mahren: we
did not arrive till very late; many of our carriages broken down, and
others overturned more than once." [Stille (Anonymous, Friedrich's
Old-Tutor Stille), _Campagnes du Roi de Prusse_ (English Translation,
12mo, London, 1763), p. 5. An intelligent, desirable little
Volume,--many misprints in the English form of it.] At Landskron next
day, Friedrich, as appointed, met the Chevalier de Saxe (CHEVALIER, by
no means Comte, but a younger Bastard, General of the Saxon Horse); and
endeavored to concert everything: Prussian rendezvous to be at Wischau,
on the 5th next; thence straightway to meet the Saxons at Trebitsch
(convenient for that Iglau),--if only the Saxons will keep bargain.

January 28th, past midnight, after another sore march, Friedrich arrived
at Olmutz; a pretty Town,--with an excellent old Bishop, "a Graf von
Lichtenstein, a little gouty man about fifty-two years of age, with
a countenance open and full of candor; [Stille, p. 8.] in whose fine
Palace, most courteously welcomed, the King lodged till near the day
of rendezvousing. We will leave him there, and look westward a little;
before going farther into the Moravian Expedition. Friedrich himself is
evidently much bent on this Expedition; has set his heart on paying the
Austrians for their trickery at Klein-Schnellendorf, in this handsome
way, and still picking up the chance against them which Karl Albert
squandered. If only the French and Saxons would go well abreast with
Friedrich, and thrust home! But will they? Here is a surprising bit of
news; not of good omen, when it reaches one at Olmutz!

"LINZ, 24th JANUARY, 1742 [day otherwise remarkable]. After the much
barricading, and considerable defiance and bravadoing, by Comte de Segur
and his 10,000, he has lost this City in a scandalous manner [not quite
scandalous, but reckoned so by outside observers]; and Linz City is not
now Segur's, but Khevenhuller's. To Khevenhuller's first summons M. de
Segur had answered, 'I will hang on the highest gallows the next man
that comes to propose such a thing!'--and within a week [Khevenhuller
having seized the Donau River to rear of Linz, and blasted off the
Bavarian party there], M. de Segur did himself propose it ('Free
withdrawal: Not serve against you for a year'); and is this day
beginning to march out of Linz." [_Campagnes des Trois Marechaux,_ iii.
280, &c.; Adelung, iii. A, p. 12, and p. 15 (a Paris street-song on
it).] Here is an example of defending Key-Positions! If Segur's be the
pattern followed, those Conquests on the Donau are like to go a fine
road!--There came to Friedrich, in all privacy, during his stay
in Olmutz at this Bishop's, a Diplomatic emissary from Vienna,
one Pfitzner; charged with apologies, with important offers
probably;--important; but not important enough. Friedrich blames himself
for being too abrupt on the man; might perhaps have learned something
from him by softer treatment. [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ ii. 109.] After
three days, Pfitzner had to go his ways again, having accomplished
nothing of change upon Friedrich.



Chapter IX. -- WILHELMINA GOES TO SEE THE GAYETIES AT FRANKFURT.

On the day when Friedrich, overhung by the grim winter Mountains, was
approaching Glatz, same day when Segur was evacuating Linz on those sad
terms, that is, on the 24th day of January, 1742,--two Gentlemen were
galloping their best in the Frankfurt-Mannheim regions; bearing what
they reckoned glad tidings towards Mannheim and Karl Albert; who is
there "on a visit" (for good reasons), after his triumphs at Prag and
elsewhere. The hindmost of the two Gentlemen is an Official of rank
(little conscious that he is preceded by a rival in message-bearing);
Official Gentleman, despatched by the Diet of Frankfurt to inform Karl
Albert, That he now is actually Kaiser of the Holy Romish Empire; votes,
by aid of Heaven and Belleisle, having all fallen in his favor.
Gallop, therefore, my Official Gentleman:--alas, another Gentleman,
Non-official, knowing how it would turn, already sat booted and saddled,
a good space beyond the walls of Frankfurt, waiting till the cannon
should fire; at the first burst of cannon, he (cunning dog) gives his
horse the spur; and is miles ahead of the toiling Official Gentleman,
all the way. [Adelung, iii. A, 52.]

In the dreary mass of long-winded ceremonial nothingnesses, and
intricate Belleisle cobwebberies, we seize this one poor speck of
human foolery in the native state, as almost the memorablest in that
stupendous business. Stupendous indeed; with which all Germany has been
in travail these sixteen months, on such terms! And in verity has got
the thing called "German Kaiser" constituted, better or worse. Heavens,
was a Nation ever so bespun by gossamer; enchanted into paralysis, by
mountains of extinct tradition, and the want of power to annihilate
rubbish! There are glittering threads of the finest Belleisle
diplomacy, which seem to go beyond the Dog-star, and to be radiant, and
irradiative, like paths of the gods: and they are, seem what they might,
poor threads of idle gossamer, sunk already to dusty cobweb, unpleasant
to poor human nature; poor human nature concerned only to get them
well swept into the fire. The quantities of which sad litter, in this
Universe, are very great!--

Karl Albert, now at the top-gallant of his hopes: homaged Archduke of
Upper Austria, homaged King of Bohemia, declared Kaiser of the German
Nation,--is the highest-titled mortal going: and, poor soul, it is
tragical, once more, to think what the reality of it was for him.
Ejection from house and home; into difficulty, poverty, despair; life in
furnished lodgings, which he could not pay;--and at last heart-break,
no refuge for him but in the grave. All which is mercifully hidden at
present; so that he seems to himself a man at the top-gallant of his
wishes; and lives pleasantly, among his friends, with a halo round his
head to his own foolish sense and theirs.

"Karl Albert, Kurfurst of Baiern [lazy readers ought to be reminded],
whose achievements will concern us to an unpleasant extent, for some
years, is now a lean man of forty-five; lean, erect, and of middle
stature; a Prince of distinguished look, they say; of elegant manners,
and of fair extent of accomplishment, as Princes go. His experiences in
this world, and sudden ups and downs, have been and will be many. Note a
few particulars of them; the minimum of what are indispensable here.

"English readers know a Maximilian Kurfurst of Baiern, who took into
French courses in the great Spanish-Succession War; the Anti-Marlborough
Maximilian, who was quite ruined out by the Battle of Blenheim; put
under Ban of the Empire, and reduced to depend on Louis XIV. for a
living,--till times mended with him again; till, after the Peace of
Utrecht, he got reinstated in his Territories; and lived a dozen years
more, in some comparative comfort, though much sunk in debt. Well, our
Karl Albert is the son of that Anti-Marlborough Kurfurst Maximilian;
eldest surviving son; a daughter of the great Sobieski of Poland was his
mother. Nay, he is great-grandson of another still more distinguished
Maximilian, him of the Thirty-Years War,--(who took the Jesuits to his
very heart, and let loose Ate on his poor Country for the sake of them,
in a determined manner; and was the First of all the Bavarian KURFURSTS,
mere Dukes till then; having got for himself the poor Winter-King's
Electorship, or split it into two as ultimately settled, out of that bad
Business),--great-grandson, we say, of that forcible questionable First
Kurfurst Max; and descends from Kaiser Ludwig, 'Ludwig the BAIER,' if
that is much advantage to him.

"In his young time he had a hard upcoming; seven years old at the Battle
of Blenheim, and Papa living abroad under Louis XIV.'s shelter, the poor
Boy was taken charge of by the victorious Austrian Kaisers, and brought
up in remote Austrian Towns, as a young 'Graf von Wittelsbach'
(nothing but his family name left him), mere Graf and private nobleman
henceforth. However, fortune took the turn we know, and he became Prince
again; nothing the worse for this Spartan part of his breeding. He made
the Grand Tour, Italy, France, perhaps more than once; saw, felt, and
tasted; served slightly, at a Siege of Belgrade (one of the many Sieges
of Belgrade);--wedded, in 1722, a Daughter of the late Kaiser Joseph's,
niece of the late Kaiser Karl's, cousin of Maria Theresa's; making the
due 'renunciations,' as was thought; and has been Kurfurst himself
for the last fourteen Years, ever since 1726, when his Father died. A
thrifty Kurfurst, they say, or at least has occasionally tried to be
so, conscious of the load of debts left on him; fond of pomps withal,
extremely polite, given to Devotion and to BILLETS-DOUX; of gracious
address, generous temper (if he had the means), and great skill in
speaking languages. Likes hunting a little,--likes several things, we
see!--has lived tolerably with his Wife and children; tolerably with
his Neighbors (though sour upon the late Kaiser now and then); and is
an ornament to Munchen, and well liked by the population there. A
lean, elegaut, middle-sized gentleman; descended direct from Ludwig the
ancient Kaiser; from Maximilian the First Kurfurst, who walked by the
light of Father Lammerlein (LAMBKIN) and Company, thinking IT light from
Heaven; and lastly is son of Maximilian the Third Kurfurst, whom learned
English readers know as the Anti-Marlborough one, ruined out by the
Battle of Blenheim.

"His most important transaction hitherto has been the marriage with
Kaiser Joseph's Daughter;--of which, in Pollnitz somewhere, there is
sublime account; forgettable, all except the date (Vienna, 5th October,
1722), if by chance that should concern anybody. Karl Albert (KURPRINZ,
Electoral Prince or Heir-Apparent, at that time) made free renunciation
of all right to Austrian Inheritances, in such terms as pleased Karl
VI., the then Kaiser; the due complete 'renunciations' of inheriting in
Austria; and it was hoped he would at once sign the Pragmatic Sanction,
when published; but he has steadily refused to do so; 'I renounced for
my Wife,' says Kurfurst Karl, 'and will never claim an inch of Austrian
land on her account; but my own right, derived from Kaiser Ferdinand of
blessed memory, who was Father of my Great-grandmother, I did not, do
not, never will renounce; and I appeal to HIS Pragmatic Sanction, the
much older and alone valid one, according to which, it is not you, it is
I that am the real and sole Heir of Austria.'

"This he says, and has steadily said or meant: 'It is I that am to be
King of Bohemia; I that shall and will inherit all your Austrias, Upper,
Under, your Swabian Brisgau or Hither Austria, and what of the Tyrol
remained wanting to me. Your Archduchess will have Hungary, the
Styrian-Carinthian Territories; Florence, I suppose, and the Italian
ones. What is hers by right I will be one of those that defend for her;
what is not hers, but mine, I will defend against her, to the best of
my ability!' This was privately, what it is now publicly, his argument;
from which he never would depart; refusing always to accept Kaiser
Karl's new Pragmatic Sanction; getting Saxony (who likewise had a
Ferdinand great-grandmother) to refuse,--till Polish Election compelled
poor Saxony, for a time. Karl Albert had likewise secretly, in past
years, got his abstruse old Cousin of the Pfalz (who mended the
Heidelberg Tun) to back him in a Treaty; nay, still better, still more
secretly, had got France itself to promise eventual hacking:--and, on
the whole, lived generally on rather bad terms with the late Kaiser
Karl, his Wife's Uncle; any reconciliation they had proving always
of temporary nature. In the Rhenish War (1734), Karl Albert, far from
assisting the Kaiser, raised large forces of his own; kept drilling
them, in four or three camps, in an alarming manner; and would not even
send his Reich's Contingent (small body of 3,000 he is by law bound
to send), till he perceived the War was just expiring. He was in angry
controversy with the Kaiser, claiming debts,--debts contracted in the
last generation, and debts going back to the Thirty-Years War, amounting
to hundreds of millions,--when the poor Kaiser died; refusing payment to
the last, nay claiming lands left HIM, he says, by Margaret Mouthpoke:
[Michaelis, ii. 260; Buchholz, ii. 9; Hormayr, _Anemonen,_ ii. 182;
&c.] 'Cannot pay your Serene Highness (having no money); and would not,
if I could!' Leaving Karl Albert to protest to the uttermost;"--which,
as we ourselves saw in Vienna, he at once honorably did.

Karl Albert's subsequent history is known to readers; except the
following small circumstance, which occurred in his late transit,
flight, or whatever we may call it, to Mannheim, and is pleasantly made
notable to us by Wilhelmina. "His Highness on the way from Munchen,"
intimates our Princess, "passed through Baireuth in a very bad
post-chaise." This, as we elsewhere pick out, was on January 16th; Karl
Albert in post-haste for the marriage-ceremony, which takes place at
Mannheim to-morrow. [Adelung, iii. A, 51.] "My Margraf, accidentally
hearing, galloped after him, came up with him about fifteen miles away:
they embraced, talked half an hour; very content, both." [Wilhelmina,
ii. 334.]

And eight days afterwards, 24th January, 1742, busy Belleisle (how busy
for this year past, since we saw him in the OEil-de-Boeuf!) gets him
elected Kaiser;--and Segur, in the self-same hours, is packing out
of Linz; and one's Donau "Conquests," not to say one's Munchen, one's
Baiern itself, are in a fine way! The marriage-ceremony, witnessed on
the 17th, was one of the sublimest for Kur-Pfalz and kindred; and it too
had secretly a touch of tragedy in it for the Poor Karl Albert. A double
marriage: Two young Princesses, Grand-daughters, priceless Heiresses,
to old Kur-Pfalz; married, one of them to Duke Clement of Baiern, Karl
Albert's nephew, which is well enough: but married, the other and elder
of them, to Theodor of Deux-Ponts, who will one day--could we pierce the
merciful veil--be Kurfurst of Baiern, and succeed our own childless Son!
[Michaelis, ii. 265.]

"Kaiser Karl VII.," such the style he took, is to be crowned February
12th; makes sublime Public Entry into Frankfurt, with that view,
January 31st;--both ceremonies splendid to a wonder, in spite of finance
considerations. Which circumstance should little concern us, were it
not that Wilhelmina, hearing the great news (though in a dim ill-dated
state), decided to be there and see; did go;--and has recorded her
experiences there, in a shrill human manner. Wishful to see our
fellow-creatures (especially if bound to look at them), even when they
are fallen phantasmal, and to make persons of them again, we will give
this Piece; sorry that it is the last we have of that fine hand. How
welcome, in the murky puddle of Dryasdust, is any glimpse by a lively
glib Wilhelmina, which we can discern to be human! Hear what Wilhelmina
says (in a very condensed form):--



WILHELMINA AT THE CORONATION.

Wilhelmina, in the end of January, 1742,--Karl Albert having shot
past, one day lately, in a bad post-chaise, and kindled the thought
in her,--resolved to go and see him crowned at Frankfurt, by way of
pleasure-excursion. We will, struggling to be briefer, speak in her
person; and indicate withal where the very words are hers, and where
ours.

The Marwitz, elder Marwitz, her poor father being wounded at Mollwitz,
[_Militair-Lexikon,_ iii. 23; and _Preussische Adels-Lexikon,_ iii.
365.] had gone to Berlin to nurse him; but she returned just now,--not
much to my joy; I being, with some cause, jealous of that foolish minx.
The Duchess Dowager of Wurtemberg also came, sorrow on her; a foolish
talking woman, always cutting jokes, making eyes, giggling and
coquetting; "HAS some wit and manner, but wearies you at last: her
charms, now on the decline, were never so considerable as rumor said; in
the long-run she bores you with her French gayeties and sprightliness:
her character for gallantry is too notorious. She quite corrupted
Marwitz, in this and a subsequent visit; turned the poor girl's head
into a French whirligig, and undermined any little moral principle she
had. She was on the road to Berlin,"--of which anon, for it is not quite
nothing to us;--"but she was in no hurry, and would right willingly have
gone with us." And it required all our female diplomacy to get her
under way again, and fairly out of our course. January 28th, SHE off to
Berlin; WE, same day, to Frankfurt-on-Mayn. [Wilhelmina, ii. 334; see
pp. 335, 338, 347, &c. for the other salient points that follow.]

Coronation was to have been (or we Country-folk thought it was), January
31st: Let us be there INCOGNITO, the night before; see it, and return
the day after. That was our plan. Bad roads, waters all out; we had to
go night and day;--reached the gates of Frankfurt, 30th January late.
Berghover, our Legationsrath there, says we are known everywhere;
Coronation is not to be till February 12th! I was fatigued to death, a
bad cold on me, too: we turned back to the last Village; stayed there
overnight. Back again to Berghover, in secret (A LA SOURDINE), next
night; will see the Public Entry of Karl Albert, which is to be
to-morrow (not quite, my Princess; January 31st for certain, [Adelung,
iii. A, 63; &c. &c.] did one the least care). "It was a very grand thing
indeed (DES PLUS SUPERBES); but I will not stop describing it. Masked
ball that night; where I had much amusement, tormenting the masks; not
being known to anybody. We next day retired to a small private
House, which Berghover had got for us, out of Town, for fear of
being discovered; and lodged there, waiting February 12th, under
difficulties."

The weather was bitterly cold; we had brought no clothes; my dames and
I nothing earthly but a black ANDRIENNE each (whatever that may be),
to spare bulk of luggage: strictest incognito was indispensable.
The Marwitzes, for giggling, raillery, French airs, and absolute
impertinence, were intolerable, in that solitary place. We return to
Frankfurt again; have balls and theatres, at least: "of these latter I
missed none. One evening, my head-dress got accidentally shoved awry,
and exposed my face for a moment; Prince George of Hessen-Cassel,
who was looking that way, recognized me; told the Prince of Orange of
it;--they are in our box, next minute!"

Prince George of Hessen-Cassel, did readers ever hear of him before?
Transiently perhaps, in Friedrich's LETTERS TO HIS FATHER; but have
forgotten him again; can know him only as the outline of a shadow. A
fat solid military man of fifty; junior Brother of that solid WILHELM,
Vice-regent and virtual "Landgraf of Hessen"--(VICE an elder and eldest
Brother, FRIEDRICH, the now Majesty of Sweden, who is actual Hereditary
Landgraf, but being old, childless, idle, takes no hold of it, and quite
leaves it to Wilhelm),--of whom English readers may have heard, and will
hear. For it is Wilhelm that hires us those "subsidized 6,000," who go
blaring about on English pay (Prince George merely Commandant of them);
and Wilhelm, furthermore, has wedded his Heir-Apparent to an English
Princess lately; [Princess Mary (age only about seventeen), 28th June,
1740; Prince's name was Friedrich (became Catholic, 1749; WIFE made
family-manager in Consequence, &c. &c.).] which also (as the poor young
fellow became Papist by and by) costs certain English people, among
others, a good deal of trouble. Uncle George, we say, is merely
Commandant of those blaring 6,000; has had his own real soldierings
before this; his own labors, contradictions, in his time; but has borne
all patiently, and grown fat upon it, not quarrelling with his burdens
or his nourishments. Perhaps we may transiently meet him again.

As to the Prince of Orange, him we have seen more than once in times
past: a young fellow in comparison, sprightly, reckoned clever, but
somewhat humpbacked; married an English Princess, years ago ("Papa, if
he were as ugly as a baboon!")--which fine Princess, we find, has stopt
short at Cassel, too fatigued on the present occasion. "His ESPRIT,"
continues Wilhelmina, "and his conversation, delighted me. His Wife,
he said, was at Cassel; he would persuade her to come and make my
acquaintance;"--could not; too far, in this cold season. "These two
Serene Highnesses would needs take me home in their carriage; they asked
the Margraf to let them stay supper: from that hour they were never out
of our house. Next morning, by means of them, the secret had got abroad.
Kur-Koln [lanky hook-nosed gentleman, richest Pluralist in the Church]
had set spies on us; next evening he came up to me, and said, 'Madam,
I know your Highness; you must dance a measure with me!' That comes of
one's head-gear getting awry! We had nothing for it but to give up the
incognito, and take our fate!"

This dancing Elector of Koln, a man still only entering his forties, is
the new Emperor's Brother: [Clement August (Hubner, t. 134).] do readers
wonder to see him dance, being an Archbishop? The fact is certain,--let
the Three Kings and the Eleven Thousand Virgins say to it what they
will. "He talked a long time with me; presented to me the Princess
Clemence his Niece [that is to say, Wife of his Nephew ClemENT; one
of the Two whom his now Imperial Majesty saw married the other
day], [Michaelis, ii. 256, 123; Hubner, tt. 141, 134.] and then the
Princess"--in fact, presented all the three Sulzbach Princesses (for
there is a youngest, still to wed),--"and then Prince Theodor [happy
Husband of the eldest], and Prince Clement [ditto of the younger];" and
was very polite indeed. How keep our incognito, with all these people
heaping civilities upon us? Let us send to Baireuth for clothes,
equipages; and retire to our country concealment till they arrive.

"Just as we were about setting off thither, I waiting till the Margraf
were ready, the Xargraf entered, and a Lady with him; who, he informed
me, was Madame de Belleisle, the French Ambassador's Wife:"--Wife of
the great Belleisle, the soul of all these high congregatings,
consultations, coronations, who is not Kaiser but maker of Kaisers: what
is to be done!--"I had carefully avoided her; reckoning she would have
pretensions I should not be in the humor to grant. I took my resolution
at the moment [being a swift decisive creature]; and received her like
any other Lady that might have come to me. Her visit was not long. The
conversation turned altogether upon praises of the King [my Brother]. I
found Madame de Belleisle very different from the notion I had formed
of her. You could see she had moved in high company (SENTAIT SON MONDE);
but her air appeared to me that of a waiting-maid (SOUBRETTE), and her
manners insignificant." Let Madame take that.

"Monseigneur himself," when our equipages had come, "waited on me
several times,"--Monseigueur the grand Marechal de Belleisle, among the
other Principalities and Lordships: but of this lean man in black (who
has done such famous things, and will have to do the Retreat of Prag
within year and day), there is not a word farther said. Old Seckendorf
too is here; "Reich's-Governor of Philipsburg;" very ill with Austria,
no wonder; and striving to be well with the new Kaiser. Doubtless
old Seckendorf made his visit too (being of Baireuth kin withal),
and snuffled his respects: much unworthy of mention; not lovely to
Wilhelmina. Prince of Orange, hunchbacked, but sprightly and much the
Prince, bore me faithful company all the Coronation time; nor was George
of Hessen-Cassel wanting, good fat man.

Of the Coronation itself, though it was truly grand, and even of an
Oriental splendor,[_Anemonen,_ ubi supra.] I will say nothing. The poor
Kaiser could not enjoy it much. He was dying of gout and gravel, and
could scarcely stand on his feet. Poor gentleman; and the French are
driven dismally out of Linz; and the Austrians are spreading like a
lava-flood or general conflagration over Baiern--Demon Mentzel, whom
they call Colonel Mentzel, he (if we knew it) is in Munchen itself,
just as we are getting crowned here! And unless King Friedrich, who is
falling into Mahren, in the flank of them, call back this Infernal Chase
a little, what hope is there in those parts!--The poor Kaiser, oftenest
in his bed, is courting all manner of German Princes,--consulting with
Seckendorfs, with cunning old stagers. He has managed to lead my Margraf
into a foolish bargain, about raising men for him. Which bargain I, on
fairly getting sight of it, persuade my Margraf to back out of; and,
in the end, he does so. Meanwhile, it detains us some time longer in
Frankfurt, which is still full of Principalities, busy with visitings
and ceremonials.

Among other things, by way of forwarding that Bargain I was so averse
to, our Official People had settled that I could not well go without
having seen the Empress, after her crowning. Foolish people; entangling
me in new intricacies! For if she is a Kaiser's Daughter and Kaiser's
Spouse, am not I somewhat too? "How a King's Daughter and an Empress are
to meet, was probably never settled by example: what number of steps
down stairs does she come? The arm-chair (FAUTEUIL), is that to
be denied me?" And numerous other questions. The official people,
Baireuthers especially, are in despair; and, in fact, there were scenes.
But I held firm; and the Berlin ambassadors tempering, a medium was
struck: steps of stairs, to the due number, are conceded me; arm-chair
no, but the Empress to "take a very small arm-chair," and I to have a
big common chair (GRAND DOSSIER). So we meet, and I have sight of this
Princess, next day.

In her place, I confess I would have invented all manner of etiquettes,
or any sort of contrivance, to save myself from showing face. "Heavens!
The Empress is below middle size, and so corpulent (PUISSANTE), she
looks like a ball; she is ugly to the utmost (LAIDE AU POSSIBLE), and
without air or grace." Kaiser Joseph's youngest Daughter,--the gods,
it seems, have not been kind to her in figure or feature! And her mind
corresponds to her appearance: she is bigoted to excess; passes
her nights and days in her oratory, with mere rosaries and gaunt
superstitious platitudes of that nature; a dark fat dreary little
Empress. "She was all in a tremble in receiving me; and had so
discountenanced an air, she could n't speak a word. We took seats. After
a little silence, I began the conversation, in French. She answered me
in her Austrian jargon, That she did not well understand that language,
and begged I would speak to her in German. Our conversation was not
long. Her Austrian dialect and my Lower-Saxon are so different that,
till you have practised, you are not mutually intelligible in them.
Accordingly we were not. A by-stander would have split with laughing at
the Babel we made of it; each catching only a word here and there, and
guessing the rest. This Princess was so tied to her etiquette, she would
have reckoned it a crime against the Reich to speak to me in a foreign
language; for she knew French well enough.

"The Kaiser was to have been of this visit; but he had fallen so ill, he
was considered even in danger of his life. Poor Prince, what a lot had
he achieved for himself!" reflects Wilhelmina, as we often do. He was
soft, humane, affable; had the gift of captivating hearts. Not without
talent either; but then of an ambition far disproportionate to it.
"Would have shone in the second rank, but in the first went sorrowfully
eclipsed," as they say! He could not be a great man, nor had about him
any one that could; and he needed now to be so. This is the service a
Belleisle can do; inflating a poor man to Kaisership, beyond his natural
size! Crowned Kaiser, and Mentzel just entering his Munchen the while;
a Kaiser bedrid, stranded; lying ill there of gout and gravel, with
the Demon Mentzels eating him:--well may his poor little bullet of a
Kaiserinn pray for him night and day, if that will avail!--



THE DUCHESS DOWAGER OF WURTEMBERG, RETURNING FROM BERLIN FAVORS US WITH
ANOTHER VISIT.

I am sorry to say this is almost the last scene we shall get out of
Wilhelmina. She returns to Baireuth; breaks there conclusively that
unwise Frankfurt bargain; receives by and by (after several months,
when much has come and gone in the world) the returning Duchess of
Wurtemberg, effulgent Dowager "spoken of only as a Lais:" and has other
adventures, alluded to up and down, but not put in record by herself any
farther.--Sorrowfully let us hear Wilhelmina yet a little, on this Lais
Duchess, who will concern us somewhat. Dowager, much too effulgent, of
the late Karl Alexander, a Reichs-Feldmarschall (or FOURTH-PART of one,
if readers could remember) and Duke of Wurtemberg,--whom we once dined
with at Prag, in old Friedrich-Wilhelm and Prince-Eugene times:--

"This Princess, very famous on the bad side, had been at Berlin to see
her three Boys settled there, whose education she [and the STANDE of
Wurtemberg, she being Regent] had committed to the King. These Princes
had been with us on their road thither, just before their Mamma last
time. The Eldest, age fourteen, had gone quite agog (S'ETOIT AMOURACHE)
about my little Girl, age only nine; and had greatly diverted us by his
little gallantries [mark that, with an Alas!]. The Duchess, following
somewhat at leisure, had missed the King that time; who was gone for
Mahren, January 18th. ... I found this Princess wearing pretty well. Her
features are beautiful, but her complexion is faded and very yellow. Her
voice is so high and screechy, it cuts your ears; she does not want for
wit, and expresses herself well. Her manners are engaging for those whom
she wishes to gain; and with men are very free. Her way of thinking and
acting offers a strange contrast of pride and meanness. Her gallantries
had brought her into such repute that I had no pleasure in her visits."
[Wilhelmina, ii. 335.] No pleasure; though she often came; and her
Eldest Prince, and my little Girl--Well, who knows!

Besides her three Boys (one of whom, as Reigning Duke, will become
notorious enough to Wilhelmina and mankind), the Lais Duchess has left
at Berlin--at least, I guess she has now left him, in exchange perhaps
for some other--a certain very gallant, vagabond young Marquis d'Argens,
"from Constantinople" last; originally from the Provence countries;
extremely dissolute creature, still young (whom Papa has had to
disinherit), but full of good-humor, of gesticulative loyal talk, and
frothy speculation of an Anti-Jesuit turn (has written many frothy
Books, too, in that strain, which are now forgotten): who became a very
great favorite with Friedrich, and will be much mentioned in subsequent
times.

"In the end of July," continues Wilhelmina, "we went to Stouccard
[Stuttgard, capital of Wurtemberg, O beautiful glib tongue!], whither
the Duchess had invited us: but--" And there we are on blank paper;
our dear Wilhelmina has ceased speaking to us: her MEMOIRS end; and
oblivious silence wraps the remainder!--

Concerning this effulgent Dowager of Wurtemberg, and her late ways at
Berlin, here, from Bielfeld, is another snatch, which we will excerpt,
under the usual conditions:

"BERLIN, FEBRUARY, 1742 [real date of all that is not fabulous in
Bielfeld, who chaotically dates it "6th December" of that Year]. ... A
day or two after this [no matter WHAT] I went to the German Play, the
only spectacle which is yet fairly afoot in Berlin. In passing in, I
noticed the Duchess Dowager of Wurtemberg, who had arrived, during my
absence, with a numerous and brilliant suite, as well to salute the King
and the Queens [King off, on his Moravian Business, before she came],
and to unite herself more intimately with our Court, as to see the Three
Princes her Children settled in their new place, where, by consent of
the States of Wurtemberg, they are to be educated henceforth.

"As I had not yet had myself presented to the Duchess, I did not presume
to approach too near, and passed up into the Theatre. But she noticed
me in the side-scenes; asked who I was [such a handsome fashionable
fellow], and sent me order to come immediately and pay my respects. To
be sure, I did so; was most graciously received; and, of course, called
early next day at her Palace. Her Grand-Chamberlain had appointed me the
hour of noon. He now introduced me accordingly: but what was my surprise
to find the Princess in bed; in a negligee all new from the laundress,
and the gallantest that art could imagine! On a table, ready to her
hand, at the DOSSIER or bed-bead, stood a little Basin silver-gilt,
filled with Holy Water: the rest was decorated with extremely precious
Relics, with a Crucifix, and a Rosary of rock-crystal. Her dress, the
cushions, quilt, all was of Marseilles stuff, in the finest series of
colors, garnished with superb lace. Her cap was of Alencon lace, knotted
with a ribbon of green and gold. Figure to yourself, in this gallant
deshabille, a charming Princess, who has all the wit, perfection of
manner--and is still only thirty-seven, with a beauty that was once so
brilliant! Round the celestial bed were courtiers, doctors, almoners,
mostly in devotional postures; the three young Princes; and a Dame
d'Atours, who seemed to look slightly ENNUYEE or bored." I had the honor
to kiss her Serene Highness's hand, and to talk a great many peppered
insipidities suitable to the occasion.

Dinner followed, more properly supper, with lights kindled: "Only I
cannot dress, you know," her Highness had said; "I never do, except for
the Queen-Mother's parties;"--and rang for her maids. So that you are
led out to the Anteroom, and go grinning about, till a new and still
more charming deshabille be completed, and her Most Serene Highness
can receive you again: "Now Messieurs! Pshaw, one is always stupid,
no ESPRIT at all except by candlelight!"--After which, such a dinner,
unmatchable for elegance, for exquisite gastronomy, for Attic-Paphian
brilliancy and charm! And indeed there followed hereupon, for weeks on
weeks, a series of such unmatchable little dinners; chief parts, under
that charming Presidency, being done by "Grand-Chamberlain Baron de"
Something-or-other, "by your humble servant Bielfeld, M. Jordan, and
a Marquis d'Argens, famous Provencal gentleman now in the suite of her
Highness:" [Bielfeld, ii. 74-78.]--feasts of the Barmecide I much doubt,
poor Bielfeld being in this Chapter very fantastic, MISDATEful to a mad
extent; and otherwise, except as to general effect, worth little serious
belief.

We shall meet this Paphian Dowager again (Crucifix and Myrtle joined):
meet especially her D'Argens, and her Three little Princes more or
less;--wherefore, mark slightly (besides the D'Argens as above):--

"1. The Eldest little Prince, Karl Eugen; made 'Reigning Duke' within
three years hence [Mamma falling into trouble with the STANDE]: a man
still gloomily famous in Germany [Poet Schiller's Duke of Wurtemberg],
of inarticulate, extremely arbitrary turn,--married Wilhelmina's
Daughter by and by [with horrible usage of her]; and otherwise gave
Friedrich and the world cause to think of him.

"2. The Second little Prince, Friedrich Eugen, Prussian General of some
mark, who will incidentally turn up again, He was afterwards Successor
to the Dukedom [Karl Eugen dying childless]; and married his Daughter to
Paul of Russia, from whom descend the Autocrats there to this day.

"3. Youngest little Prince, Ludwig Eugen, a respectable Prussian
Officer, and later a French one: he is that 'Duc de Wirtemberg' who
corresponds with Voltaire [inscrutable to readers, in most of the
Editions]; and need not be mentioned farther." [See Michaelis, iii. 449;
Preuss, i. 476; &c. &c.]

But enough of all this. It is time we were in Mahren, where the
Expedition must be blazing well ahead, if things have gone as expected.



Chapter X. -- FRIEDRICH DOES HIS MORAVIAN EXPEDITION WHICH PROVES A MERE
MORAVIAN FORAY.


While these Coronation splendors had been going on, Friedrich, in the
Moravian regions, was making experiences of a rather painful kind; his
Expedition prospering there far otherwise than he had expected. This
winter Expedition to Mahren was one of the first Friedrich had ever
undertaken on the Joint-stock Principle; and it proved of a kind rather
to disgust him with that method in affairs of war.

A deeply disappointing Expedition. The country hereabouts was in bad
posture of defence; nothing between us and Vienna itself, in a manner.
Rushing briskly forward, living on the country where needful, on that
Iglau Magazine, on one's own Sechelles resources; rushing on, with
the Saxons, with the French, emulous on the right hand and the left,
a Captain like Friedrich might have gone far; Vienna itself--who
knows!--not yet quite beyond the reach of him. Here was a way to
check Khevenhuller in his Bavarian Operations, and whirl him back,
double-quick, for another object nearer home!--But, alas, neither the
Saxons nor the French would rush on, in the least emulous. The Saxons
dragged heavily arear; the French Detachment (a poor 5,000 under
Polastron, all that a captious Broglio could be persuaded to grant)
would not rush at all, but paused on the very frontier of Moravia,
Broglio so ordering, and there hung supine, or indeed went home.

Friedrich remonstrated, argued, turned back to encourage; but it was
in vain. The Saxon Bastard Princes "lived for days in any Schloss they
found comfortable;" complaining always that there was no victual for
their Troops; that the Prussians, always ahead, had eaten the country.
No end to haggling; and, except on Friedrich's part, no hearty beginning
to real business. "If you wish at all to be 'King of Moravia,' what is
this!" thinks Friedrich justly. Broglio, too, was unmanageable,--piqued
that Valori, not Broglio, had started the thing;--showed himself
captious, dark, hysterically effervescent, now over-cautious, and again
capable of rushing blindly headlong.

To Broglio the fact at Linz, which everybody saw to be momentous, was
overwhelming. Magnanimous Segur, and his Linz "all wedged with beams,"
what a road have they gone! Said so valiantly they would make defence;
and did it, scarcely for four days: January 24th; before this Expedition
could begin! True, M. le Marechal, too true:--and is that a reason
for hanging back in this Mahren business; or for pushing on in it,
double-quick, with all one's strength? "But our Conquests on the Donau,"
thinks Broglio, "what will become of them,--and of us!" To Broglio,
justly apprehensive about his own posture at Prag and on the Donau,
there never was such a chance of at once raking back all Austrians
homewards, post-haste out of those countries. But Broglio could by no
means see it so,--headstrong, blusterous, over-cautious and hysterically
headlong old gentleman; whose conduct at Prag here brought Strasburg
vividly to Friedrich's memory. Upon which, as upon the ghost of
Broglio's Breeches, Valori had to hear "incessant sarcasms" at this
time.

In a word, from February 5th, when Friedrich, according to bargain,
rendezvoused his Prussians at Wischau to begin this Expedition, till
April 5th, when he re-rendezvoused them (at the same Wischau, as
chanced) for the purpose of ending it and going home,--Friedrich,
wrestling his utmost with Human Stupidity, "MIT DER DUMMHEIT
[as Schiller sonorously says], against which the very gods are
unvictorious," had probably two of the most provoking months of his
Life, or of this First Silesian War, which was fruitful in such to him.
For the common cause he accomplished nearly nothing by this Moravian
Expedition. But, to his own mind, it was rich in experiences, as to the
Joint-Stock Principle, as to the Partners he now had. And it doubtless
quickened his steps towards getting personally out of this imbroglio of
big French-German Wars,--home to Berlin, with Peace and Silesia in his
pocket,--which had all along been the goal of his endeavors. As a
feat of war it is by no means worth detailing, in this place,--though
succinct Stille, and bulkier German Books give lucid account, should
anybody chance to be curious. [Stille, _Campaigns of the King of
Prussia,_ i. 1-55; _Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 548-611; _OEuvres de
Frederic,_ ii. 110-114; Orlich, ii.; &c. &c.] Only under the other
aspect, as Friedrich's experience of Partnership, and especially of his
now Partners, are present readers concerned to have, in brief form, some
intelligible notion of it.



IGLAU IS GOT, BUT NOT THE MAGAZINE AT IGLAU.

Friedrich was punctual at Wischau; Head-quarters there (midway between
Olmutz and Brunn), Prussians all assembled, 5th February, 1742. Wischau
is some eighty miles EAST or inward of Iglau; the French and Saxons are
to meet us about Trebitsch, a couple of marches from that Teutschbrod
of theirs, and well within one march of Iglau, on our route thither.
The French and Saxons are at Trebitsch, accordingly; but their minds
and wills seem to be far elsewhere. Rutowsky and the Chevalier de Saxe
command the Saxons (20,000 strong on paper, 16,000 in reality); Comte
de Polastron the French, who are 5,000, all Horse. Along with whom,
professedly as French Volunteer, has come the Comte de Saxe, capricious
Maurice (Marechal de Saxe that will be), who has always viewed
this Expedition with disfavor. Excellency Valori is with the French
Detachment, or rather poor Valori is everywhere; running about, from
quarter to quarter, sometimes to Prag itself; assiduous to heal rents
everywhere; clapping cement into manifold cracks, from day to day.
Through Valori we get some interesting glimpses into the secret humors
and manoeuvres of Comte Maurice. It is known otherwise Comte Maurice was
no friend to Belleisle, but looked for his promotion from the opposite
or Noailles party, in the French Court: at present, as Valori perceives,
he has got the ear of Broglio, and put much sad stuff into the loud
foolish mind of him.

To these Saxon gentlemen, being Bastard-Royal and important to
conciliate, Friedrich has in a high-flown way assigned the Schloss of
Budischau for quarters, an excellent superbly magnificent mansion in
the neighborhood of Trebitsch, "nothing like it to be seen except
in theatres, on the Drop-scene of _The Enchanted Island;"_ [Stille,
_Campaigns,_ p. 14.] where they make themselves so comfortable, says
Friedrich, there is no getting them roused to do anything for three days
to come. And yet the work is urgent, and plenty of it. "Iglau, first of
all," urges Friedrich, "where the Austrians, 10,000 or so, under Prince
Lobkowitz, have posted themselves [right flank of that long straggle of
Winter Cantonments, which goes leftwards to Budweis and farther], and
made Magazines: possession of Iglau is the foundation-stone of our
affairs. And if we would have Iglau WITH the Magazines and not without,
surely there is not a moment to be wasted!" In vain; the Saxon Bastard
Princes feel themselves very comfortable. It was Sunday the 11th of
February, when our junction with them was completed: and, instead of
next morning early, it is Wednesday afternoon before Prince Dietrich
of Anhalt-Dessau, with the Saxon and French party roused to join his
Prussians and him, can at last take the road for Iglau. Prince Dietrich
makes now the reverse of delay; marches all night, "bivouacs in woods
near Iglau," warming himself at stick-fires till the day break; takes
Iglau by merely marching into it and scattering 2,000 Pandours, so soon
as day has broken; but finds the Magazines not there. Lobkowitz carted
off what he could, then burnt "Seventeen Barns yesterday;" and is
himself off towards Budweis Head-quarters and the Bohemian bogs again.
This comes of lodging Saxon royal gentlemen too well.



THE SAXONS THINK IGLAU ENOUGH; THE FRENCH GO HOME.

Nay, Iglau taken, the affair grows worse than ever. Our Saxons now
declare that they understand their orders to be completed; that their
Court did not mean them to march farther, but only to hold by Iglau,
a solid footing in Moravia, which will suffice for the present. Fancy
Friedrich; fancy Valori, and the cracks he will have to fill! Friedrich,
in astonishment and indignation, sends a messenger to Dresden: "Would
the Polish Majesty BE 'King of Moravia,' then, or not be?" Remonstrances
at Budischau rise higher and higher; Valori, to prevent total explosion,
flies over once, in the dead of the night, to deal with Rutowsky and
Brothers. Rutowsky himself seems partly persuadable, though dreadfully
ill of rheumatism. They rouse Comte Maurice; and Valori, by this
Comte's caprices, is driven out of patience. "He talked with a flippant
sophistry, almost with an insolence" says Valori; "nay, at last, he made
me a gesture in speaking,"--what gesture, thumb to nose, or what, the
shuddering imagination dare not guess! But Valori, nettled to the quick,
"repeated it," and otherwise gave him as good as he brought. "He ended
by a gesture which displeased me"--"and went to bed." [Valori, i. 148,
149.] This is the night of February 18th; third night after Iglau was
had, and the Magazines in it gone to ashes. Which the Saxons think is
conquest enough.

Poor Polish Majesty, poor Karl Albert, above all, now "Kaiser Karl
VII.," with nothing but those French for breath to his nostrils! With
his fine French Army of the Oriflamme, Karl Albert should have pushed
along last Autumn; and not merely "read the Paper" which Friedrich
sent him to that effect, "and then laid it aside." They will never have
another chance, his French and he,--unless we call this again a chance;
which they are again squandering! Linz went by capitulation; January
24th, the very day of one's "Election" as they called it: and ever
since that day of Linz, the series of disasters has continued rapid and
uniform in those parts. Linz gone, the rest of the French posts did not
even wait to capitulate; but crackled all off, they and our Conquests
on the Donau, like a train of gunpowder, and left the ground bare. And
General von Barenklau (BEAR'S-CLAW), with the hideous fellow called
Mentzel, Colonel of Pandours, they have broken through into Bavaria
itself, from the Tyrol; climbing by Berchtesgaden and the wild Salzburg
Mountains, regardless of Winter, and of poor Bavarian militia-folk;--and
have taken Munchen, one's very Capital, one's very House and Home!--Poor
Karl Albert,--and, what is again remarkable, it was the very day while
he was getting "crowned" at Frankfurt, "with Oriental pomp," that
Mentzel was about entering Munchen with his Pandours. [Coronation was
February 12th; Capitulation to Mentzel, "Munchen, February 13th," is in
_ Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 56-59.] And this poor Archduke of the Austrian,
King of Bohemia, Kaiser of the Holy Romish Reich Teutsch by Nation, is
becoming Titular merely, and owns next to nothing in these extensive
Sovereignties. Judge if there is not call for despatch on all
sides!--The Polish Majesty sent instant rather angry order to his
Saxons, "Forward, with you; what else! We would be King in Mahren!"

The Saxons then have to march forward; but we can fancy with what a
will. Rutowsky flings up his command on this Order (let us hope, from
rheumatism partly), and goes home; leaving the Chevalier de Saxe
to preside in room of him. As for Polastron, he produces Order from
Broglio, "Iglau got, return straightway;" must and will cross over into
Bohemia again; and does. Nay, the Comte de Saxe had, privately in his
pocket, a Commission to supersede Polastron, and take command himself,
should Polastron make difficulties about turning back. Poor Polastron
made no difficulties: Maurice and he vanish accordingly from this
Adventure, and only the unwilling Saxons remain with Friedrich. Poor
Polastron ("a poor weak creature," says Friedrich, "fitter for
his breviary than anything else") fell sick, from the hardships of
campaigning; and soon died, in those Bohemian parts. Maurice is heard
of, some weeks hence, besieging Eger;--very handsomely capturing Eger:
[19th April, 1742 (_Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 78-65).]--on which service
Broglio had ordered him after his return. The former Commandant of the
Siege, not very progressive, had just died; and Broglio, with reason
(all the more for his late Moravian procedures) was passionate to have
done there. One of the first auspicious exploits of Maurice, that of
Eger; which paved the way to his French fortunes, and more or less
sublime glories, in this War. Friedrich recognizes his ingenuities,
impetuosities, and superior talent in war; wrote high-flown Letters of
praises, now and then, in years coming; but, we may guess, would hardly
wish to meet Maurice in the way of joint-stock business again.



FRIEDRICH SUBMERGES THE MORAVIAN COUNTRIES; BUT CANNOT BRUNN, WHICH IS
THE INDISPENSABLE POINT.

February 19th, these sad Iglau matters once settled, Friedrich, followed
by the Saxons, plunges forward into Moravia; spreads himself over
the country, levying heavy contributions, with strict discipline
nevertheless; intent to get hold of Brunn and its Spielberg, if he
could. Brunn is the strong place of Moravia; has a garrison of 6 or
7,000; still better, has the valiant Roth, whom we knew in Neisse once,
for Commandant: Brunn will not be had gratis.

Schwerin, with a Detachment of 6,000 horse and foot, Posadowsky,
Ziethen, Schmettau Junior commanding under him, has dashed along far in
the van; towards Upper Austria, through the Town of Horn, towards Vienna
itself; levying, he also, heavy contributions,--with a hand of iron,
and not much of a glove on it, as we judge. There is a grim enough
Proclamation (in the name of a "frightfully injured Kaiser," as well as
Kaiser's Ally), still extant, bearing Schwerin's signature, and the date
"STEIN, 26th Feb. 1742." [In _Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 556.] Stein is
on the Donau, a mile or two from Krems, and twice as far from Mautern,
where the now Kaiser was in Autumn last. Forty and odd miles short of
Vienna: this proved the Pisgah of Schwerin in that direction, as it had
done of Karl Albert. Ziethen, with his Hussars coursed some 20 miles
farther, on the Vienna Highway; and got the length of Stockerau; a small
Town, notable slightly, ever since, as the Prussian NON-PLUS-ULTRA in
that line.

Meanwhile, Prince Lobkowitz is rallying; has quitted Budweis and the
Bohemian Bogs, for some check of these insolences. Lobkowitz, rallying
to himself what Vienna force there is, comes, now in good strength, to
Waidhofen (rearward of Horn, far rearward of Stein and Stockerau),
so that Ziethen and Schwerin have to draw homeward again. Lobkowitz
fortifies himself in Waidhofen; gathers Magazines there, as if towards
weightier enterprises. For indeed much is rallying, in a dangerous
manner; and Moravia is now far other than when Friedrich planned this
Expedition. And at Vienna, 25th February last, there was held Secret
Council, and (much to Robinson's regret) a quite high Resolution come
to,--which Friedrich gets to know of, and does not forget again.



THE SAXONS HAVE NO CANNON FOR BRUNN, CANNOT AFFORD ANY; THERE IS A HIGH
RESOLUTION TAKEN AT VIENNA (February 25th): FRIEDRICH QUITS THE MORAVIAN
ENTERPRISE.

Friedrich keeps his Head-quarter, all this while, closer and closer
upon Brunn. First, chiefly at a Town called Znaim, on the River Taya;
many-branched river, draining all those Northwestern parts; which sends
its widening waters down to Presburg,--latterly in junction with those
of the Morawa from North, which washes Olmutz, drains the Northern and
Eastern parts, and gives the Country its name of "Moravia." Brunn lies
northeast of Friedrich, while in Znaim, some fifty miles; the Saxon
head-quarter is at Kromau, midway towards that City. After Znaim, he
shifts inward, to Selowitz, still in the same Taya Valley, but much
nearer Brunn; and there continues. [At Znaim, 19th February-9th March;
at Selowitz, 13th March-5th April (Rodenbeck, i. 65).]

Striving hard for Brunn; striving hard, under difficulties, for so
many things distant and near; we may fancy him busy enough;--and are
surprised at the fractions of light Jordan Correspondence which he still
finds time for. Pretty bits of Letters, in prose and doggerel, from and
to those Moravian Villages; Jordan, "twice a week," bearing the main
weight; Friedrich, oftener than one could hope, flinging some word of
answer,--very intent on Berlin gossip, we can notice. "Vattel is
still here, your Majesty," [_OEuvres,_ xvii. 163, &c.] insinuates
Jordan:--young Vattel, afterwards of the DROIT DES GENS, whom his
Majesty might have kept, but did not.--What more of your D'Argens, then;
anything in your D'Argens? Friedrich will ask. "For certain, D'Argens
is full of ESPRIT," answers Jordan, in a dexterous way; and How the
Effulgent of Wurtemberg" has quarrelled outright with her D'Argens,
and will not eat off silver (D'ARGENT), lest she have to name him by
accident!"--with other gossip, in a fine brief airy form, at which
Jordan excels. Cheering the rare leisure hour, in one's Tent at
Selowitz, Pohrlitz, Irrlitz, far away!--There are also orders about
CICERO and Books. Of Business for most part, or of private feelings,
nothing: Berlin gossip, and Books for one's reading, are the staple. But
to return.

Out from Head-quarters, diligent operations shoot forth, far enough,
along those Taya-Morawa Valleys, where Hungarian "Insurgents" are
beginning to be dangerous. South of Brunn, all round Brunn, are
diligent operations, frequent skirmishings, constant strict levyings of
contributions. The saving operation, Friedrich well sees, would be
to get hold of Brunn: but, unluckily, How? Vigilant Roth scorns all
summoning; sallies continually in a dangerous manner; and at length,
when closer pressed, burns all the Villages round him: "we counted as
many as sixteen villages laid in ashes," says Friedrich. Here is small
comfort of outlook.

And then the Saxons, at Kromau or wherever they may be: no end of
trouble and vexation with these Saxons. Their quarters are not fairly
allotted, they say; we make exchange of quarters, without improvement
noticeable. "One fine day, on some slight alarm, they came rushing
over to us, all in panic; ruined, merely by Pandour noises, had not we
marched them back, and reinstated them." Friedrich sends to Silesia for
reinforcements of his own, which he can depend upon. Sends to Silesia, to
Glatz and the Young Dessauer;--nay to Brandenburg and the Old Dessauer?
ultimately. Finding Roth would not yield, he has sent to Dresden for
Siege-Artillery: Polish Majesty there, titular "King of Moravia,"
answers that he cannot meet the expense of carriage. "He had just
purchased a green diamond which would have carried them thither and back
again:" What can be done with such a man?--And by this time, early in
March, Hungarian "MORIAMUR PRO REGE" begins to show itself. Clouds of
Hungarian Insurgents, of the Tolpatch, Pandour sort, mount over the
Carpathians on us, all round the east, from south to north; and threaten
to penetrate Silesia itself. So that we have to sweep laboriously the
Morawa-Taya Valleys; and undertake first one and then another outroad,
or sharp swift sally, against those troublesome barbarians.

And more serious still, Prince Karl and the regular Army, quickened
by such Khevenhuller-Barenklau successes in the Donau Countries,
are beginning to stir. Prince Karl, returning from Vienna and its
consultations, took command, 4th March; [_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 557.]
with whom has come old Graf von Konigseck, an experienced head to advise
with; Prince Karl is in motion, skirting us southward, about Waidhofen,
where Lobkowitz lay waiting him with Magazines ready. Rumor says, the
force in those parts is already 40,000, with more daily coming in.
Friedrich has of his own, apart from the Saxons, some 24,000. Prince
Karl, with so many heavy troops, and with unlimited supply of light, is
very capable of doing mischief: he has orders (and Friedrich now knows
of it) To go in upon us;--such their decision in Secret Council
at Vienna, on the 25th of February last, That he must go and fight
us:--"Better we met him with fewer thrums on our hands!" thinks
Friedrich; and beckons the Old Dessauer out of Brandenburg withal.
"Swift, your Serenity; hitherward with 20,000!" Which the Old Dessauer
(having 30,000 to pick from, late Camp-of-Gottin people) at once sets
about. Will be a security, in any event! [Orlich, i. 221: Date of the
Order, "13th March, 1742."] To finish with Brunn, Friedrich has sent for
Siege-Artillery of his own; he urges Chevalier de Saxe to close with him
round Brunn, and batter it energetically into swift surrender. Is it not
the one thing needful? Chevalier de Saxe admits, half promises; does
not perform. Being again urged, Why have not you performed? he answers,
"Alas, your Majesty, here are Orders for me to join Marshal Broglio at
Prag, and retire altogether out of this!"

"Altogether out of it," thinks Friedrich to himself: "may all the Powers
be thanked! Then I too, without disgrace, can go altogether out of
it;--and it shall be a sharp eye that sees me in joint-stock with you
again, M. le Chevalier." Friedrich has written in his HISTORY, and
Valori used to hear him often say in words, Never were tidings welcomer
than these, that the Saxons were about to desert him in this manner. Go:
and may all the Devils--But we will not fall into profane swearing. It
is proper to get out of this Enterprise at one's best speed, and
never get into the like of it again! Friedrich (on this strange Saxon
revelation, 30th March) takes instant order for assembling at Wischau
again, for departing towards Olmutz; thence homewards, with deliberate
celerity, by the Landskron mountain-country, Tribau, Zwittau,
Leutomischl, and the way he came. He has countermanded his Silesian
reinforcements; these and the rest shall rendezvous at Chrudim in
Bohemia; whitherwards the two Dessauers are bound:--in Brunn, with its
wrecked environs, famed Spielberg looking down from its conical height,
and sixteen villages in ashes, Roth shall do his own way henceforth.

The Saxons pushed straight homewards; did not "rejoin Broglio," rejoin
anybody,--had, in fact, done with this First Silesian War, as it proved;
and were ready for the OPPOSITE side, on a Second falling out! Their
march, this time, was long and harassing,--sad bloody passage in it,
from Pandours and hostile Village-people, almost at starting, "four
Companies of our Rear-guard cut down to nine men; Village burnt, and
Villagers exterminated (SIC), by the rescuing party." [Details in
_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 606; in &c. &c.] They arrived at Leitmeritz
and their own Border, "hardly above 8,000 effective." Naturally, in a
highly indignant humor; and much disposed to blame somebody. To the
poor Polish NON-Moravian Majesty, enlightened by his Bruhls and
Staff-Officers, it became a fixed truth that the blame was all
Friedrich's,--"starving us, marching us about!"--that Friedrich's
conduct to us was abominable, and deserved fixed resentment. Which
accordingly it got, from the simple Polish Majesty, otherwise a
good-natured creature;--got, and kept. To Friedrich's very great
astonishment, and to his considerable disadvantage, long after!

Friedrich's look, when Valori met him again coming home from this
Moravian Futility, was "FAROUCHE," fierce and dark; his laugh bitter,
sardonic; harsh mockery, contempt and suppressed rage, looking through
all he said. A proud young King, getting instructed in several things,
by the stripes of experience. Look in that young Portrait by Pesne, the
full cheeks, and fine mouth capable of truculence withal, the brow
not unused to knit itself, and the eyes flashing out in sharp diligent
inspection, of a somewhat commanding nature. We can fancy the face
very impressive upon Valori in these circumstances. Poor Valori has
had dreadful work; running to and fro, with his equipages breaking,
his servants falling all sick, his invaluable D'Arget (Valori's chief
Secretary, whom mark) quite disabled; and Valori's troubles are not
done. He has been to Prag lately; is returning futile, as usual. Driving
through the Mountains to rejoin Friedrich, he meets the Prussians in
retreat; learns that the Pandours, extremely voracious, are ahead; that
he had better turn, and wait for his Majesty about Chrudim in the Elbe
region, upon highways, and within reach of Prag.

Friedrich, on the 5th of April, is in full march out of the Moravian
Countries,--which are now getting submerged in deluges of Pandours;
towards the above-said Chrudim, whereabouts his Magazines lie, where
privately he intends to wait for Prince Karl, and that Vienna Order
of the 25th February, with hands clearer of thrums. The march goes in
proper columns, dislocations; Prince Dietrich, on the right, with
a separate Corps, bent else-whither than to Chrudim, keeps off the
Pandours. A march laborious, mountainous, on roads of such quality; but,
except baggage-difficulties and the like, nothing material going wrong.
"On the 13th [April], we marched to Zwittau, over the Mountain of
Schonhengst. The passage over this Mountain is very steep; but not so
impracticable as it had been represented; because the cannon and wagons
can be drawn round the sides of it." [Stille, p. 86.] Yes;--and readers
may (in fancy) look about them from the top; for we shall go this road
again, sixteen years hence; hardly in happier circumstances!

Friedrich gets to Chrudim, April 17th; there meets the Young Dessauer
with his forces: by and by the Old Dessauer, too, comes to an Interview
there (of which shortly). The Old Dessauer--his 20,000 not with him,
at the moment, but resting some way behind, till he return--is to go
eastward with part of them; eastward, Troppau-Jablunka way, and drive
those Pandour Insurgencies to their own side of the Mountains: a job Old
Leopold likes better than that of the Gottin Camp of last year. Other
part of the 20,000 is to reinforce Young Leopold and the King, and
go into cantonments and "refreshment-quarters" here at Chrudim. Here,
living on Bohemia, with Silesia at their back, shall the Troops repose
a little; and be ready for Prince Karl, if he will come on. That is what
Friedrich looks to, as the main Consolation left.

In Moravia, now overrun with Pandours, precursors of Prince Karl, he
has left Prince Dietrich of Anhalt, able still to maintain himself, with
Olmutz as Head-quarters, for a calculated term of days: Dietrich is,
with all diligence, to collect Magazines for that Jablunka-Troppau
Service, and march thither to his Father with the same (cutting his way
through those Pandour swarms); and leaving Mahren as bare as possible,
for Prince Karl's behoof. All which Prince Dietrich does, in a gallant,
soldier-like, prudent and valiant manner,--with details of danger well
fronted, of prompt dexterity, of difficulty overcome; which might
be interesting to soldier students, if there were among us any such
species; but cannot be dwelt upon here. It is a march of 60 or 70 miles
(northeast, not northwest as Friedrich's had been), through continual
Pandours, perils and difficulties:--met in the due way by Prince
Dietrich, whose toils and valors had been of distinguished quality in
this Moravian Business. Take one example, not of very serious nature (in
the present March to Troppau):--

"OLISCHAU, EVENING OF APRIL 21st. Just as we were getting into Olischau
[still only in the environs of Olmutz], the Vanguard of Prince Karl's
Army appeared on the Heights. It did not attack; but retired, Olmutz
way, for the night. Prince Dietrich, not doubting but it would return
next day, made the necessary preparations overnight. Nothing of it
returned next day; Prince Dietrich, therefore, in the night of April
22d, pushed forward his sick-wagons, meal-wagons, heavy baggage,
peaceably to Sternberg; and, at dawn on the morrow, followed with
his army, Cavalry ahead, Infantry to rear;" nothing whatever
happening,--unless this be a kind of thing:--"Our Infantry had scarcely
got the last bridge broken down after passing it, when the roofs of
Olischau seemed as it were to blow up; the Inhabitants simultaneously
seizing that moment, and firing, with violent diligence, a prodigious
number of shot at us,--no one of which, owing to their hurry and the
distance, took any effect;" [Stille, p. 50.] but only testified what
their valedictory humor was.

Or again--(Place, this time, is UNGARISCH-BROD, near Goding on the
Moravian-Hungarian Frontier, date MARCH 13th; one of those swift
Outroads, against Insurgents or "Hungarian Militias" threatening to
gather):--... "Godinq on our Moravian side of the Border, and
then Skalitz on their Hungarian, being thus finished, we make for
Ungarisch-Brod," the next nucleus of Insurgency. And there is the
following minute phenomenon,--fit for a picturesque human memory: "As
this, from Skalitz to Ungarisch-Brod, is a long march, and the roads
were almost impassable, Prince Dietrich with his Corps did not arrive
till after dark. So that, having sufficiently blocked the place with
parties of horse and foot, he had, in spite of thick-falling snow, to
wait under the open sky for daylight. In which circumstances, all that
were not on sentry lay down on their arms;" slept heartily, we hope;
"and there was half an ell of snow on them, when day broke." [BERICHT
VON DER UNTERNEHMUNG DES &c. (in Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. p. 508).]
When day broke, and they shook themselves to their feet again,--to the
astonishment of Ungarisch-Brod!...

There had been fine passages of arms, throughout, in this Business,
round Brunn, in the March home, and elsewhere; and Friedrich is
well contented with the conduct of his men and generals,--and dwells
afterwards with evident satisfaction on some of the feats they did. [For
instance, TRUCHSESS VON WALDBURG'S fine bit of Spartanism (14th
March, at Lesch, near Brunn, near AUSTERLITZ withal), which was
much celebrated; King himself, from Selowitz, heard the cannonading
(Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 518-520). Selchow's feat (ib. 521). Fouquet's
(this is the CAPTAIN Fonquet, with "MY two candles, Sir," of the old
Custrin-Prison time; who is dear to Friedrich ever since, and to the
end): "Account of Fouquet's Grenadier Battalion, to and at Fulnek,
January-April, 1742 (is in _Feldzuge der Preussen,_ i. 176-184);
especially his March, from Fulnek, homewards, part of Prince Dietrich's
that way (in Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 510-515). With various others (in
SEYFARTH and FELDZUGE): well worth reading till you understand them.] I
am sorry to say, General Schwerin has taken pique at this preference of
the Old Dessauer for the Troppau Anti-Pandour Operation; and is home
in a huff: not to reappear in active life for some years to come. "The
Little Marlborough,"--so they call him (for he was at Blenheim, and has
abrupt hot ways),--will not participate in Prince Karl's consolatory
Visit, then! Better so, thinks Friedrich perhaps (remembering Mollwitz):
"This is the freak of an imitation ANGLAIS!" sneers he, in mentioning
it to Jordan.--Friedrich's Synopsis of this Moravian Failure of an
Expedition, in answer to Jordan's curiosity about it,--curiosity
implied, not expressed by the modest Jordan, is characteristic:--

"Moravia, which is a very bad Country, could not be held, owing to want
of victual; and the Town of Brunn could not be taken, because the Saxons
had no cannon; and when you wish to enter a Town, you must first make
a hole to get in by. Besides, the Country has been reduced to such a
state: that the Enemy cannot subsist in it, and you will soon see him
leave it. There is your little military lesson; I would not have you
at a loss what to think of our Operations; or what to say, should other
people talk of them in your presence!" [Friedrich to Jordan (_OEuvres,_
xvii. 196), Chrudim, 5th May, 1742.]

"Winter Campaigns," says Friedrich elsewhere, much in earnest, and
looking back on this thing long afterwards, "Winter Campaigns are bad,
and should always be avoided, except in cases of necessity. The best
Army in the world is liable to be ruined by them. I myself have made
more Winter Campaigns than any General of this Age; but there were
reasons. Thus:--

"In 1740," Winter Campaign which we saw, "there were hardly above two
Austrian regiments in Silesia, at Karl VI.'s death. Being determined to
assert my right to that Duchy, I had to try it at once, in winter, and
carry the war, if possible, to the Banks of the Neisse. Had I waited
till spring, we must have begun the war between Crossen and Glogau; what
was now to be gained by one march would then have cost us three or four
campaigns. A sufficient reason, this, for campaigning in winter.

"If I did not succeed in the Winter Campaign of 1742," Campaign which we
have just got out of, "which I made with a design to deliver the Elector
of Bavaria's Country, then overrun by Austria, it was because the French
acted like fools, and the Saxons like traitors." Mark that deliberate
opinion.

"In 1745-46," Winter Campaign which we expect to see, "the Austrians
having got Silesia, it was necessary to drive them out. The Saxons and
they had formed a design to enter my Hereditary Dominions, to destroy
them with fire and sword. I was beforehand with them. I carried the
War into the heart of Saxony." [MILITARY INSTRUCTIONS WRITTEN BY &c.
"translated by an Officer" (London, 1762), pp. 171, 172. One of the
best, or altogether the best, of Friedrich's excellent little Books
written successively (thrice-PRIVATE, could they have been kept so)
for the instruction of his Officers. Is to be found now in _OEuvres
de Frederic,_ xxviii. (that is vol. i. of the _"OEuvres Militaires,"_
which occupy 3 vols.) pp. 4 et seqq.]

Digesting many bitter-enough thoughts, Friedrich has cantoned about
Chrudim; expecting, in grim composed humor, the one Consolation there
can now be. February 25th, as readers well know, the Majesty of Hungary
and her Aulic Council had decided, "One stroke more, O Excellency
Robinson; one Battle more for our Silesian jewel of the crown! If
beaten, we will then give it up; oh, not till then!" Robinson and
Hyndford,--imagination may faintly represent their feelings, on the
wilful downbreak of Klein-Schnellendorf; or what clamor and urgency the
Majesty of Britain and they have been making ever since. But they could
carry it no further: "One stroke more!"

At Chrudim, and to the right and the left of it, sprinkled about in
long, very thin, elliptic shape (thirty or forty miles long, but capable
of coalescing "within eight-and-forty hours"), there lies Friedrich: the
Elbe River is behind him; beyond Elbe are his Magazines, at Konigsgratz,
Nimburg, Podiebrad, Pardubitz; the Giant Mountains, and world of
Bohemian Hills, closing-in the background, far off: that is his
position, if readers will consult their Map. The consolatory Visit, he
privately thinks, cannot be till the grass come; that is, not till June,
two months hence; but there also he was a little mistaken.



Chapter XI. --NUSSLER IN NEISSE, WITH THE OLD DESSAUER AND WALRAVE.

The Old Dessauer with part of his 20,000,--aided by Boy Dietrich
(KNABE, "Knave Dietrich," as one might fondly call him) and the Moravian
Meal-wagons,--accomplished his Troppau-Jablunka Problem perfectly well;
cleaning the Mountains, and keeping them clean, of that Pandour rabble,
as he was the man to do. Nor would his Expedition require mentioning
farther,--were it not for some slight passages of a purely Biographical
character; first of all, for certain rubs which befell between his
Majesty and him. For example, once, before that Interview at Chrudim,
just on entering Bohemia thitherward, Old Leopold had seen good to alter
his march-route; and--on better information, as he thought it, which
proved to be worse--had taken a road not prescribed to him. Hearing
of which, Friedrich reins him up into the right course, in this sharp
manner:--

"CHRUDIM, 21st APRIL. I am greatly surprised that your Serenity, as an
old Officer, does not more accurately follow my orders which I give
you. If you were skilfuler than Caesar, and did not with strict accuracy
observe my orders, all else were of no help to me. I hope this notice,
once for all, will be enough; and that in time coming you will give
no farther causes to complain." [King to Furst Leopold (Orlich, i.
219-221).]

Friedrich, on their meeting at Chrudim, was the same man as ever. But
the old Son of Gunpowder stood taciturn, rigorous, in military business
attitude, in the King's presence; had not forgotten the passage; and
indeed he kept it in mind for long months after. And during all this
Ober-Schlesien time, had the hidden grudge in his heart;--doing his
day's work with scrupulous punctuality; all the more scrupulous, they
say. Friedrich tried, privately through Leopold Junior, some slight
touches of assuagement; but without effect; and left the Senior to Time,
and to his own methods of cooling again.

Besides that of keeping down Hungarian Enterprises in the Mountains, Old
Leopold had, as would appear, to take some general superintendence in
Ober-Schlesien; and especially looks after the new Fortification-work
going on in those parts. Which latter function brought him often to
Neisse, and into contact with the ugly Walrave, Engineer-in-Chief
there. A much older and much worthier acquaintance of ours, Herr
Boundary-Commissioner Nussler, happens also to be in Neisse;--waiting
for those Saxon Gentlemen; who are unpunctual to a degree, and never
come (nor in fact ever will, if Nussler knew it). Luckily Nussler kept
a Notebook; and Busching ultimately got it, condensed it, printed
it;--whereby (what is rare, in these Dryasdust labyrinths, inane
spectralities and cinder-mountains) there is sudden eyesight vouchsafed;
and we discern veritably, far off, brought face to face for an
instant, this and that! I must translate some passages,--still farther
condensed:--



HOW NUSSLER HAPPENED TO BE IN NEISSE, MAY, 1742.

Nussler had been in this Country, off and on, almost since Christmas
last; ready here, if the Saxons had been ready. As the Saxons were not
ready, and always broke their appointment, Nussler had gone into the
Mountains, to pass time usefully, and take preliminary view of the
ground.

... "From Berlin, 20th December, 1741; by Breslau,"--where some pause
and correspondence;--"thence on, Neisse way, as far as Lowen [so well
known to Friedrich, that Mollwitz night!]. From Berlin to Lowen, Nussler
had come in a carriage: but as there was much snow falling, he here took
a couple of sledges; in which, along with his attendants, he proceeded
some fifty miles, to Jauernik, a stage beyond Neisse, to the southwest.
Jauernik is a little Town lying at the foot of a Hill, on the top of
which is the Schloss of Johannisberg. Here it began to rain; and the
getting up the Hill, on sledges, was a difficult matter. The DROST
[Steward] of this Castle was a Nobleman from Brunswick-Luneburg; who,
for the sake of a marriage and this Drostship for dowry, had changed
from Protestant to Roman Catholic,"--poor soul! "His wife and he were
very polite, and showed Nussler a great deal of kindness. Nussler
remarked on the left side of this Johannisberg," western side a good
few miles off, "the pass which leads from Glatz to Upper and Lower
Schlesien,"--where the reader too has been, in that BAUMGARTEN SKIRMISH,
if he could remember it,--"with a little Block-house in the bottom," and
no doubt Prussian soldiers in it at the moment. "Nussler, intent always
on the useful, did not institute picturesque reflections; but considered
that his King would wish to have this Pass and Block-house; and
determined privately, though it perhaps lay rather beyond the
boundary-mark, that his Master must have it when the bargaining should
come....

"On the homeward survey of these Borders, Nussler arrived at Steinau
[little Village with Schloss, which we saw once, on the march to
Mollwitz, and how accident of fire devoured it that night], and at sight
of the burnt Schloss standing black there, he remembered with great
emotion the Story of Grafin von Callenberg [dead since, with her pistols
and brandy-bottle] and of the Grafin's Daughter, in which he had been
concerned as a much-interested witness, in old times.... For the rest,
the journey, amid ice and snow, was not only troublesome in the extreme,
but he got a life-long gout by it [and no profit to speak of]; having
sunk, once, on thin ice, sledge and he, into a half-frozen stream, and
got wetted to the loins, splashing about in such cold manner,--happily
not quite drowned." The indefatigable Nussler; working still, like a
very artist, wherever bidden, on wages miraculously low.

The Saxon Gentlemen never came;--privately the Saxons were quite off
from the Silesian bargain, and from Friedrich altogether;--so that this
border survey of Nussler's came to nothing, on the present occasion. But
it served him and Friedrich well, on a new boundary-settling, which
did take effect, and which holds to this day. Nussler, during
these operations, and vain waitings for the Saxons, had Neisse for
head-quarters; and, going and returning, was much about Neisse; Walrave,
Marwitz (Father of Wilhelmina's baggage Marwitz), Feldmarschall Schwerin
(in earlier stages), and other high figures, being prominent in his
circle there.

"The old Prince of Dessau came thither: for some days. [Busching,
_Beitrage,_ i. 347 (beginning of May as we guess, but there is no date
given).] He was very gracious to Nussler, who had been at his Court,
and known him before this. The Old Dessauer made use of Walrave's Plate;
usually had Walrave, Nussler, and other principal figures to dinner.
Walrave's Plate, every piece of it, was carefully marked with a RAVEN on
the rim,--that being his crest ["Wall-raven" his name]: Old Dessauer,
at sight of so many images of that bird, threw out the observation, loud
enough, from the top of the table, 'Hah, Walrave, I see you are making
yourself acquainted with the RAVENS in time, that they may not be
strange to you at last,'"--when they come to eat you on the gibbet! (not
a soft tongue, the Old Dessauer's). "Another day, seeing Walrave seated
between two Jesuit Guests, the Prince said: 'Ah, there you are right,
Walrave; there you sit safe; the Devil can't get you there!' As the
Prince kept continually bantering him in this strain, Walrave determined
not to come; sulkily absented himself one day: but the Prince sent the
ORDINANZ (Soldier in waiting) to fetch him; no refuge in sulks.

"They had Roman-Catholic victual for Walrave and others of that faith,
on the meagre-days; but Walrave eat right before him,--evidently nothing
but the name of Catholic. Indeed, he was a man hated by the Catholics,
for his special rapacity on them. 'He is of no religion at all,' said
the Catholic Prelate of Neisse, one day, to Nussler; (greedy to plunder
the Monasteries here; has wrung gold, silver aud jewels from them,--nay
from the Pope himself,--by threatening to turn Protestant, and use the
Monasteries still worse. And the Pope, hearing of this, had to send him
a valuable Gift, which you may see some day.' Nussler did, one day, see
this preciosity: a Crucifix, ebony bordered with gold, and the Body all
of that metal, on the smallest of altars,--in Walrave's bedroom. But it
was the bedroom itself which Nussler looked at with a shudder," Nussler
and we: "in the middle of it stood Walrave's own bed, on his right hand
that of his Wife, and on his left that of his Mistress:"--a brutish
polygamous Walrave! "This Mistress was a certain Quarter-Master's
Wife,"--Quarter-Master willing, it is probable, to get rid of such an
article gratis, much more on terms of profit. "Walrave had begged for
him the Title of Hofrath from King Friedrich,"--which, though it was
but a clipping of ribbon contemptible to Friedrich, and the brute of an
Engineer had excellent talents in his business, I rather wish Friedrich
had refused in this instance. But he did not; "he answered in gibing
tone, 'I grant you the Hofrath Title for your Quarter-Master; thinking
it but fit that a General's'--What shall we call her? (Friedrich uses
the direct word)--'should have some handle to her name.'" [Busching,
_Beitrage,_ i. 343-348.]

It was this Mistress, one is happy to know, that ultimately betrayed the
unbeautiful Walrave, and brought him to Magdeburg for the rest of his
life.--And now let us over the Mountains, to Chrudim again; a hundred
and fifty miles at one step.



Chapter XII. -- PRINCE KARL DOES COME ON.

It was before the middle of May, not of June as Friedrich had expected,
that serious news reached Chrudim. May 11th, from that place, there is
a Letter to Jordan, which for once has no verse, no bantering in it:
Prince Karl actually coming on; Hussar precursors, in quantity, stealing
across to attack our Magazines beyond Elbe;--and in consequence, Orders
are out this very day: "Cantonments, cease; immediate rendezvous, and
Encampment at Chrudim here!" Which takes effect two days hence, Monday,
13th May: one of the finest sights Stille ever saw. "His Majesty rode to
a height; you never beheld such a scene: bright columns, foot and
horse, streaming in from every point of the compass, their clear arms
glittering in the sun; lost now in some hollow, then emerging, winding
out with long-drawn glitter again; till at length their blue uniforms
and actual faces come home to you. Near upon 30,000 of all arms; trim
exact, of stout and silently good-humored aspect; well rested, by this
time;--likely fellows for their work, who will do it with a will. The
King seemed to be affected by so glorious a spectacle; and, what I
admired, his Majesty, though fatigued, would not rest satisfied with
reports or distant view, but personally made the tour of the whole Camp,
to see that everything was right, and posted the pickets himself before
retiring." [Stille, p. 57 (or Letter X.).]

Prince Karl, since we last heard of him, had hung about in the Brunn and
other Moravian regions, rallying his forces, pushing out Croat parties
upon Prince Dietrich's home-march, and the like; very ill off for food,
for draught-cattle, in a wasted Country. So that he had soon quitted
Mahren; made for Budweis and neighborhood:--dangerous to Broglio's
outposts there? To a "Castle of Frauenberg," across the Moldau from
Budweis; which is Broglio's bulwark there, and has cost Broglio much
revictualling, reinforcing, and flurry for the last two months. Prince
Karl did not meddle with Brauenberg, or Broglio, on this occasion;
leaves Lobkowitz, with some Reserve-party, hovering about in those
parts;--and himself advances, by Teutschbrod (well known to the poor
retreating Saxons latcey!) towards Chrudim, on his grand Problem, that
of 25th February last. Cautiously, not too willingly, old Konigseck and
he. But they were inflexibly urged to it by the Heads at Vienna; who,
what with their Bavarian successes, what with their Moravian and other,
had got into a high key;--and scorned the notion of "Peace," when
Hyndford (getting Friedrich's permission, in the late Chrudim interval)
had urged it again. [Orlich, i. 226.]

Broglio is in boundless flurry; nothing but spectres of attack looming
in from Karl, from Khevenhuller, from everybody; and Eger hardly yet
got. [19th April (_Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 77-81.) Fine reinforcement,
25,000 under a Due d'Harcourt; this and other good outlooks there are;
but it is the terrible alone that occupy Broglio. And indeed the poor
man--especially ever since that Moravian Business would not thrive in
spite of him--is not to be called well off! Friedrich and he are in
correspondence, by no means mutually pleasant, on the Prince-Karl
phenomenon. "Evidently intending towards Prag, your Majesty perceives!"
thinks Broglio. "If not towards Chrudim, first of all, which is 80 miles
nearer him, on his rode to Prag!" urges Friedrich, at this stage: "Help
me with a few regiments in this Chrudim Circle, lest I prove too weak
here. Is not this the bulwark of your Prag just now?" In vain; Broglio
(who indeed has orders that way) cannot spare a man. "Very well,"
thinks Friedrich; and has girded up his own strength for the Chrudim
phenomenon; but does not forget this new illustration of the Joint-Stock
Principle, and the advantages of Broglio Partnership.

Friedrich's beautiful Encampment at Chrudim lasted only two days.
Precursor Tolpatcheries (and, in fact, Prince Karl's Vanguard, if we
knew it) come storming about, rifer and rifer; attempting the Bridge of
Kolin (road to our Magazines); attempting this and that; meaning to
get between us and Prag; and, what is worse, to seize the Magazines,
Podiebrad, Nimburg, which we have in that quarter! Tuesday, May 15th,
accordingly, Friedrich himself gets on march, with a strong
swift Vanguard, horse and foot (grenadiers, hussars, dragoons),
Prag-ward,--probably as far as Kuttenberg, a fine high-lying post, which
commands those Kodin parts;--will march with despatch, and see how that
matter is. The main Army is to follow under Leopold of Anhalt-Dessau
to-morrow, Wednesday," so soon as their loaves have come from
Konigsgratz,"--for "an Army goes on its belly," says Friedrich often.
Loaves do not come, owing to evil chance, on this occasion: Leopold's
people "take meal instead;" but will follow, next morning, all the same,
according to bidding. Readers may as well take their Map, and accompany
in these movements; which issue in a notable conclusive thing.

Tuesday morning, 15th May, Friedrich marches from Chrudim; on which same
morning of the 15th, Prince Karl, steadily on the advance he too, is
starting,--and towards the same point,--from a place called Chotieborz,
only fifteen miles to southward of Chrudim. In this way, mutually
unaware, but Prince Karl getting soonest aware, the Vanguards of the
Two Armies (Prince Karl's Vanguard being in many branches, of Tolpatch
nature) are cast athwart each other; and make, both to Friedrich and
Prince Karl, an enigmatic business of it for the next two days. Tuesday,
15th, Friedrich marching along, vigilantly observant on both hands, some
fifteen miles space, came that evening to a Village called Podhorzan,
with Height near by; [Stille, pp. 60, 61.] Height which he
judged unattackable, and on the side of which he pitches his camp
accordingly,--himself mounting the Height to look for news. News sure
enough: there, south of us on the heights of Ronnow, three or four miles
off, are the Enemy, camped or pickeering about, 7 or 8,000 as we judge.
Lobkowitz, surely not Lobkowitz? He has been gliding about, on the
French outskirts, far in the southwest lately: can this be Lobkowitz,
about to join Prince Karl in these parts?--Truly, your Majesty, this is
not Lobkowitz at all; this is Prince Karl's Vanguard, and Prince Karl
himself actually in it for the moment,--anxiously taking view of your
Vanguard; recognizing, and admitting to himself, "Pooh, they will be
at Kuttenberg before us; no use in hastening. Head-quarters at Willimow
to-night; here at Ronnow to-morrow: that is all we can do!" [Orlich, i.
233.]

To-morrow, 16th May, before sunrise at Podhorzan, the supposed Lobkowitz
is clean vanished: there is no Enemy visible to Friedrich, at Ronnow
or elsewhere. Leaving Friedrich in considerable uncertainty: clear only
that there are Enemies copiously about; that he himself will hold on for
Kuttenberg; that young Leopold must get hitherward, with steady
celerity at the top of his effort,--parts of the ground being difficult;
especially a muddy Stream, called Dobrowa, which has only one Bridge
on it fit for artillery, the Bridge of Sbislau, a mile or two ahead of
this. Instructions are sent Leopold to that effect; and farther that
Leopold must quarter in Czaslau (a substantial little Town, with bogs
about it, and military virtues); and, on the whole, keep close to heel
of us, the Enemy in force being near, Upon which, his Majesty pushes on
for Kuttenberg; Prince Leopold following with best diligence, according
to Program. His Majesty passed a little place called Neuhof that
afternoon (Wednesday, 16th May); and encamped a short way from
Kuttenberg, behind or north of that Town,--out of which, on his
approach, there fled a considerable cloud of Austrian Irregulars, and
"left a large baking of bread." Bread just about ready to their order,
and coming hot out of the ovens; which was very welcome to his Majesty
that night; and will yield refreshment, partial refreshment, next
morning, to Prince Leopold, not too comfortable on his meal-diet just
now.

Poor Prince Leopold had his own difficulties this day; rough ground,
very difficult to pass; and coming on the Height of Podhorzan where
his Majesty was yesterday, Leopold sees crowds of Hussars, needing a
cannon-shot or two; sees evident symptoms, to southward, that the whole
Force of the Enemy is advancing upon him! "Speed, then, for Sbislau
Bridge yonder; across the Dobrowa, with our Artillery-wagons, or we are
lost!" Prince Karl, with Hussar-parties all about, is fully aware of
Prince Leopold and his movements, and is rolling on, Ronnow-ward all
day, to cut him off, in his detached state, if possible. Prince Karl
might, with ease, have broken this Dobrowa Bridge; and Leopold and
military men recognize it as a capital neglect that he did not.

Leopold, overloaded with such intricacies and anxieties, sends off three
messengers, Officers of mark (Schmettau Junior one of them), to apprise
the King: the Officers return, unable to get across to his Majesty;
Leopold sends proper detachment of horse with them,--uncertain still
whether they will get through. And night is falling; we shall evidently
be too late for getting Czaslau: well if we can occupy Chotusitz and the
environs; a small clay Hamlet, three miles nearer us. It was 11 at night
before the rear-guard got into Chotusitz: Czaslau, three miles south of
us, we cannot attend to till to-morrow morning. [Orlich, pp. 236-239.]
And the three messengers, despatched with escort, send back no word.
Have they ever got to his Majesty? Leopold sends off a fourth. This
fourth one does get through; reports to his Majesty, That, by all
appearance, there will be Battle on the morrow early; that not Czaslau,
but only Chotusitz is ours; and that Instructions are wanted. Deep in
the night, this fourth messenger returns; a welcome awakening for Prince
Leopold; who studies his Majesty's Instructions, and will make his
dispositions accordingly.

It is 2 or 3 in the morning, [Ib. p. 238.] in Leopold's Camp,--Bivouac
rather, with its face to the south, and Chotusitz ahead. Thursday, 17th
May, 1742; a furiously important Day about to dawn. High Problem of the
23th February last; Britannic Majesty and his Hyndfords and Robinsons
vainly protesting:--it had to be tried; Hungarian Majesty having got,
from Britannic, the sinews for trying it: and this is to be the Day.



Chapter XIII. --BATTLE OF CHOTUSITZ.

Kuttenberg, Czaslau, Chotusitz and all these other places lie in what
is called the Valley of the Elbe, but what to the eye has not the least
appearance of a hollow, but of an extensive plain rather, dimpled here
and there; and, if anything, rather sloping FROM the Elbe,--were it
not that dull bushless brooks, one or two, sauntering to NORTHward, not
southward, warn you of the contrary. Conceive a flat tract of this kind,
some three or four miles square, with Czaslau on its southern border,
Chotusitz on its northern; flanked, on the west, by a straggle of
Lakelets, ponds and quagmires (which in our time are drained away,
all but a tenth part or so of remainder); flanked, on the east, by
a considerable puddle of a Stream called the Dobrowa; and cut in the
middle by a nameless poor Brook ("BRTLINKA" some write it, if anybody
could pronounce), running parallel and independent,--which latter, of
more concernment to us here, springs beyond Czaslau, and is got to be of
some size, and more intricate than usual, with "islands" and the like,
as it passes Chotusitz (a little to east of Chotusitz);--this is our
Field of Battle. Sixty or more miles to eastward of Prag, eight miles or
more to southward of Elbe River and the Ford of Elbe-Teinitz (which we
shall hear of, in years coming). A scene worth visiting by the curious,
though it is by no means of picturesque character.

Uncomfortably bare, like most German plains; mean little hamlets, which
are full of litter when you enter them, lie sprinkled about; little
church-spires (like suffragans to Chotusitz spire, which is near you); a
ragged untrimmed country: beyond the Brook, towards the Dobrowa, two
or more miles from Chotusitz, is still noticeable: something like a
Deer-park, with umbrageous features, bushy clumps, and shadowy vestiges
of a Mansion, the one regular edifice within your horizon. Schuschitz is
the name of this Mansion and Deer-park; farther on lies Sbislau, where
Leopold happily found his Bridge unbroken yesterday.

The general landscape is scrubby, littery; ill-tilled, scratched rather
than ploughed; physiognomic of Czech Populations, who are seldom trim at
elbows: any beauty it has is on the farther side of the Dobrowa, which
does not concern Prince Leopold, Prince Karl, or us at present. Prince
Leopold's camp lies east and west, short way to north of Chotusitz.
Schuschitz Hamlet (a good mile northward of Sbislau) covers his left,
the chain of Lakelets covers his right: and Chotusitz, one of his
outposts, lies centrally in front. Prince Karl is coming on, in four
columns, from the Hills and intricacies south of Czaslau,--has been on
march all night, intending a night-attack or camisado if he could;
but could not in the least, owing to the intricate roadways, and the
discrepancies of pace between his four columns. The sun was up before
anything of him appeared:--drawing out, visibly yonder, by the east
side of Czaslau; 30,000 strong, they say. Friedrich's united force, were
Friedrich himself on the ground, will be about 28,000.

Friedrich's Orders, which Leopold is studying, were: "Hold by Chotusitz
for Centre; your left wing, see you lean it on something, towards
Dobrowa side,--on that intricate Brook (Brtlinka) or Park-wall of
Schuschitz, [SBISLAU, Friedrich hastily calls it (_OEuvres,_ ii.
121-126); Stille (p. 63) is more exact.] which I think is there; then
your right wing westwards, till you lean again on something: two lines,
leave room for me and my force, on the corner nearest here. I will
start at four; be with you between seven and eight,--and even bring a
proportion of Austrian bread (hot from these ovens of Kuttenberg) to
refresh part of you." Leopold of Anhalt, a much-comforted man, waits
only for the earliest gray of the morning, to be up and doing.
From Chotusitz he spreads out leftwards towards the Brtlinka
Brook,--difficult ground that, unfit for cavalry, with its bog-holes,
islands, gullies and broken surface; better have gone across the
Brtlinka with mere infantry, and leant on the wall of that Deer-park of
Schuschitz with perhaps only 1,000 horse to support, well rearward of
the infantry and this difficult ground? So men think,--after the action
is over. [Stille, pp. 63, 67.] And indeed there was certainly some
misarrangement there (done by Leopold's subordinates), which had its
effects shortly.

Leopold was not there in person, arranging that left wing; Leopold is
looking after centre and right. He perceives, the right wing will be his
best chance; knows that, in general, cavalry must be on both wings. On
a little eminence in front of his right, he sees how the Enemy comes
on; Czaslau, lately on their left, is now getting to rear of them:--"And
you, stout old General Buddenbrock, spread yourself out to right a
little, hidden behind this rising ground; I think we may outflank their
left wing by a few squadrons, which will be an advantage."

Buddenbrock spreads himself out, as bidden: had Buddenbrock been
reinforced by most of the horse that could do no good on our LEFT wing,
it is thought the Battle had gone better. Buddenbrock in this way,
secretly, outflanks the Austrians; to HIS right all forward, he has that
string of marshy pools (Lakes of Czirkwitz so called, outflowings from
the Brook of Neuhof), and cannot be taken in flank by any means. Brook
of Neuhof, which his Majesty crossed yesterday, farther north;--and
ought to have recrossed by this time?--said Brook, hereabouts a mere
fringe of quagmires and marshy pools, is our extreme boundary on the
west or right; Brook of Brtlinka (unluckily NOT wall of the Deer-park)
bounds us eastward, or on our left, Prince Karl, drawn up by this time,
is in two lines, cavalry on right and left, but rather in bent order;
bent towards us at both ends (being dainty of his ground, I suppose);
and comes on in hollow-crescent form;--which is not reckoned orthodox by
military men. What all these Villages, human individuals and terrified
deer, are thinking, I never can conjecture! Thick-soled peasants,
terrified nursing-mothers: Better to run and hide, I should say; mount
your garron plough-horses, hide your butter-pots, meal-barrels; run at
least ten miles or so!--

It is now past seven, a hot May morning, the Austrians very near;--and
yonder, of a surety, is his Majesty coming. Majesty has marched since
four; and is here at his time, loaves and all. His men rank at once in
the corner left for them; one of his horse-generals, Lehwald, is sent to
the left, to put straight what my be awry there (cannot quite do it, he
either);--and the attack by Buddenhrock, who secretly outflanks here on
the right, this shall at once take effect. No sooner has his Majesty
got upon the little eminence or rising ground, and scanned the Austrian
lines for an instant or two, than his cannon-batteries awaken here;
give the Austrian horse a good blast, by way of morning salutation and
overture to the concert of the day. And Buddenbrock, deploying under
cover of that, charges, "first at a trot, then at a gallop," to see what
can be done upon them with the white weapon. Old Uuddenbrock, surely,
did not himself RIDE in the charge? He is an old man of seventy; has
fought at Oudenarde, Malplaquet, nay at Steenkirk, and been run through
the body, under Dutch William; is an old acquaintance of Charles XII.s
even; and sat solemnly by Friedrich Wilhelm's coffin, after so much
attendance during life. The special leader of the charge was Bredow;
also a veteran gentleman, but still only in the fifties; he, I conclude,
made the charge; first at a trot, then at a gallop,--with swords
flashing hideous, and eyebrows knit.

"The dust was prodigious," says Friedrich, weather being dry and ground
sandy; for a space of time you could see nothing but one huge whirlpool
of dust, with the gleam of steel flickering madly in it: however,
Buddenbrock, outflanking the Austrian first line of horse, did hurl
them from their place; by and by you see the dust-tempest running south,
faster and faster south,--that is to say, the Austrian horse in flight;
for Buddenbrock, outflanking them by three squadrons, has tumbled their
first line topsy-turvy, and they rush to rearward, he following away and
away. [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ ii. 123.] Now were the time for a fresh
force of Prussian cavalry,--for example, those you have standing useless
behind the gullies and quagmires on your left wing (says Stille, after
the event);--due support to Buddenbrock, and all that Austrian cavalry
were gone, and their infantry left bare.

But now again, see, do not the dust-clouds pause? They pause, mounting
higher and higher; they dance wildly, then roll back towards us; too
evidently back. Buddenbrock has come upon the secoud line of Austrian
horse; in too loose order Buddenbrock, by this time, and they have
broken him:--and it is a mutual defeat of horse on this wing, the
Prussian rather the worse of the two. And might have been serious,--had
not Rothenburg plunged furiously in, at this crisis, quite through to
the Austrian infantry, and restored matters, or more. Making a confused
result of it in this quarter. Austrian horse-regiments there now were
that fled quite away; as did even one or two foot-regiments, while the
Prussian infantry dashed forward on them, escorted by Rothenburg in this
manner,--who got badly wounded in the business; and was long an object
of solicitude to Friedrich. And contrariwise certain Prussian horse
also, it was too visible, did not compose themselves till fairly arear
of our foot. This is Shock First in the Battle; there are Three Shocks
in all.

Partial charging, fencing and flourishing went on; but nothing very
effectual was done by the horse in this quarter farther. Nor did
the fire or effort of the Prussian Infantry in this their right wing
continue; Austrian fury and chief effort having, by this time, broken
out in an opposite quarter. So that the strain of the Fight lies now in
the other wing over about Chotusitz and the Brtlinka Brook; and thither
I perceive his Majesty has galloped, being "always in the thickest
of the danger" this day. Shock Second is now on. The Austrians have
attacked at Chotusitz; and are threatening to do wonders there.

Prince Leopold's Left Wing, as we said, was entirely defective in the
eye of tacticians (after the event). Far from leaning on the wall of the
Deer-park, he did not even reach the Brook,--or had to weaken his force
in Chotusitz Village for that object. So that when the Austrian foot
comes storming upon Chotusitz, there is but "half a regiment" to defend
it. And as for cavalry, what is to become of cavalry, slowly threading,
under cannon-shot and musketry, these intricate quagmires and gullies,
and dangerously breaking into files and strings, before ever it can find
ground to charge? Accordingly, the Austrian foot took Chotusitz, after
obstinate resistance; and old Konigseck, very ill of gout, got seated
in one of the huts there; and the Prussian cavalry, embarrassed to get
through the gullies, could not charge except piecemeal, and then though
in some cases with desperate valor, yet in all without effectual result.
Konigseck sits in Chotusitz;--and yet withal the Russians are not out of
it, will not be driven out of it, but cling obstinately; whereupon the
Austrians set fire to the place; its dry thatch goes up in flame, and
poor old Konigseck, quite lame of gout, narrowly escaped burning, they
say.

And, see, the Austrian horse have got across the Brtlinka, are spread
almost to the Deer-park, and strive hard to take us in flank,--did not
the Brook, the bad ground and the platoon-firing (fearfully swift, from
discipline and the iron ramrods) hold them back in some measure. They
make a violent attempt or two; but the problem is very rugged. Nor can
the Austrian infantry, behind or to the west of burning Chotusitz, make
an impression, though they try it, with levelled bayonets and deadly
energy, again and again: the Prussian ranks are as if built of rock,
and their fire is so sure and swift. Here is one Austrian regiment, came
rushing on like lions; would not let go, death or no-death:--and here it
lies, shot down in ranks; whole swaths of dead men, and their muskets by
them,--as if they had got the word to take that posture, and had done it
hurriedly! A small transitory gleam of proud rage is visible, deep down,
in the soul of Friedrich as he records this fact. Shock Second was very
violent.

The Austrian horse, after such experimenting in the Brtlinka quarter,
gallop off to try to charge the Prussians in the rear;--"pleasanter by
far," judge many of them, "to plunder the Prussian Camp," which they
descry in those regions; whither accordingly they rush. Too many of
them; and the Hussars as one man. To the sorrowful indignation of Prince
Karl, whose right arm (or wing) is fallen paralytic in this manner.
After the Fight, they repented in dust and ashes; and went to say so, as
if with the rope about their neck; upon which he pardoned them.

Nor is Prince Karl's left wing gaining garlands just at this moment.
Shock Third is awakening;--and will be decisive on Prince Karl.
Chotusitz, set on fire an hour since (about 9 A.M.), still burns;
cutting him in two, as it were, or disjoining his left wing from his
right: and it is on his right wing that Prince Karl is depending for
victory, at present; his left wing, ruffled by those first Prussian
charges of horse, with occasional Prussian swift musketry ever since,
being left to its own inferior luck, which is beginning to produce
impression on it. And, lo, on the sudden (what brought finis to the
business), Friedrich, seizing the moment, commands a united charge
on this left wing: Friedrich's right wing dashes forward on it,
double-quick, takes it furiously, on front and flank; fifteen
field-pieces preceding, and intolerable musketry behind them. So that
the Austrian left wing cannot stand it at all.

The Austrian left wing, stormed in upon in this manner, swags and sways,
threatening to tumble pell-mell upon the right wing; which latter has
its own hands full. No Chotusitz or point of defence to hold by, Prince
Karl is eminently ill off, and will be hurled wholly into the Brtlinka,
and the islands and gullies, unless he mind! Prince Karl,--what a moment
for him!--noticing this undeniable phenomenon, rapidly gives the word
for retreat, to avoid worse. It is near upon Noon; four hours of battle;
very fierce on both the wings, together or alternately; in the centre
(westward of Chotusitz) mostly insignificant: "more than half the
Prussians" standing with arms shouldered. Prince Karl rolls rapidly
away, through Czaslau towards southwest again; loses guns in Czaslau;
goes, not quite broken, but at double-quick time for five miles;
cavalry, Prussian and Austrian, bickering in the rear of him; and
vanishes over the horizon towards Willimow and Haber that night, the way
he had come.

This is the battle of Chotusitz, called also of Czaslau: Thursday, 17th
May, 1742. Vehemently fought on both sides;--calculated, one may hope,
to end this Silesian matter? The results, in killed and wounded,
were not very far from equal. Nay, in killed the Prussians suffered
considerably the worse; the exact Austrian cipher of killed being 1,052,
while that of the Prussians was 1,905,--owing chiefly to those fierce
ineffectual horse-charges and bickerings, on the right wing and left;
"above 1,200 Prussian cavalry were destroyed in these." But, in fine,
the general loss, including wounded and missing, amounted on the
Austrian side (prisoners being many, and deserters very many) to near
seven thousand, and on the Prussian to between four and five. [Orlich,
i. 255; _Feldzuge der Preussen,_ p. 113; Stille, pp. 62-71; Friedrich
himself, _OEuvres,_ ii. 121-126; and (ib. pp. 145-150) the Newspaper
"RELATION," written also by him.] Two Generals Friedrich had lost, who
are not specially of our acquaintance; and several younger friends
whom he loved. Rothenburg, who was in that first charge of horse with
Buddenbrock, or in rescue of Buddenbrock, and did exploits, got badly
hurt, as we saw,--badly, not fatally, as Friedrich's first terror
was,--and wore his arm in a sling for a long while afterwards.

Buddenbrock's charge, I since hear, was ruined by the DUST; [_OEuvres
de Frederic,_ ii. 121.] the King's vanguard, under Rothenburg, a
"new-raised regiment of Hussars in green," coming to the rescue, were
mistaken for Austrians, and the cry rose, "Enemy to rear!" which brought
Rothenburg his disaster. Friedrich much loved and valued the man;
employed him afterwards as Ambassador to France and in places of trust.
Friedrich's Ambassadors are oftenest soldiers as well: bred soldiers, he
finds, if they chance to have natural intelligence, are fittest for all
kinds of work.--Some eighteen Austrian cannon were got; no standards,
because, said the Prussians, they took the precaution of bringing none
to the field, but had beforehand rolled them all up, out of harm's
way.--Let us close with this Fraction of topography old aud new:--

"King Friedrich purchased Nine Acres of Ground, near Chotusitz, to
bury the slain; rented it from the proprietor for twenty-five years.
[_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 634.] I asked, Where are those nine acres;
what crop is now upon them? but could learn nothing. A dim people, those
poor Czech natives; stupid, dirty-skinned, ill-given; not one in twenty
of them speaking any German;--and our dragoman a fortuitous Jew Pedler;
with the mournfulest of human faces, though a head worth twenty of those
Czech ones, poor oppressed soul! The Battle-plain bears rye, barley,
miscellaneous pulse, potatoes, mostly insignificant crops;--the nine
hero-acres in question, perhaps still of slightly richer quality, lie
indiscriminate among the others; their very fence, if they ever had one,
now torn away.

"The Country, as you descend by dusty intricate lanes from Kuttenberg,
with your left hand to the Elbe, and at length with your back to it,
would be rather pretty, were it well cultivated, the scraggy litter
swept off, and replaced by verdure and reasonable umbrage here and
there. The Field of Chotusitz, where you emerge on it, is a wide wavy
plain; the steeple of Chotusitz, and, three or four miles farther,
that of Czaslau (pronounce 'KOTusitz,' 'CHASlau'), are the conspicuous
objects in it. The Lakes Friedrich speaks of, which covered his right,
and should cover ours, are not now there,--'all, or mostly all, drained
away, eighty years ago,' answered the Czechs; answered one wiser Czech,
when pressed upon, and guessed upon; thereby solving the enigma which
was distressful to us. Between those Lakes and the Brtlinka Brook may
be some two miles; Chotusitz is on the crown of the space, if it have a
crown. But there is no 'height' on it, worth calling a height except by
the military man; no tree or bush; no fence among the scrubby ryes and
pulses: no obstacle but that Brook, which, or the hollow of which, you
see sauntering steadily northward or Elbe-ward, a good distance on your
left, as you drive for Chotusitz and steeple. Schuschitz, a peaked brown
edifice, is visible everywhere, well ahead and leftwards, well beyond
said hollow; something of wood and 'deer-park' still noticeable or
imaginable yonder.

"Chotusitz itself is a poor littery place; standing white-washed,
but much unswept: in two straggling rows, now wide enough apart (no
Konigseck need now get burnt there): utterly silent under the hot sun;
not a child looked out on us, and I think the very dogs lay wisely
asleep. Church and steeple are at the farther or south end of the
Village, and have an older date than 1742. High up on the steeple,
mending the clock-hands or I know not what, hung in mid-air one
Czech; the only living thing we saw. Population may be three or four
hundred,--all busy with their teams or otherwise, we will hope. Czaslau,
which you approach by something of avenues, of human roads (dust and
litter still abounding), is a much grander place; say of 2,000 or more:
shiny, white, but also somnolent; vast market-place, or central square,
sloping against you: two shiny Hotels on it, with Austrian uniforms
loitering about;--and otherwise great emptiness and silence. The shiny
Hotels (shine due to paint mainly) offer little of humanly edible; and,
in the interior, smells strike you as--as the OLDEST you have ever met
before. A people not given to washing, to ventilating! Many gospels have
been preached in those parts, aud abstruse Orthodoxies, sometimes with
fire and sword, and no end of emphasis; but that of Soap-and-Water
(which surely is as Catholic as any, and the plainest of all) has not
yet got introduced there!" [Tourist's Note (13th September, 1858).]

Czaslau hangs upon the English mind (were not the ignorance so total) by
another tie: it is the resting-place of Zisca, whose drum, or the fable
of whose drum, we saw in the citadel of Glatz. Zisca was buried IN his
skin, at Czaslau finally: in the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul there;
with due epitaph; and his big mace or battle-club, mostly iron, hung
honorable on the wall close by. Kaiser Ferdinand, Karl V.'s brother, on
a Progress to Prag, came to lodge at Czaslau, one afternoon: "What is
that?" said the Kaiser, strolling over this Peter-and-Paul's Church, and
noticing the mace. "Ugh! Faugh!" growled he angrily, on hearing what;
and would not lodge in the Town, but harnessed again, and drove farther
that same night. The club is now gone; but Zisca's dust lies there
irremovable till Doomsday, in the land where his limbs were made. A
great behemoth of a war-captain; one of the fiercest, inflexiblest,
ruggedest creatures ever made in the form of man. Devoured Priests, with
appetite, wherever discoverable: Dishonorers of his Sister; murderers of
the God's-witness John Huss; them may all the Devils help! Beat Kaiser
Sigismund SUPRA-GRAMMATICAM again and ever again, scattering the Kitter
hosts in an extraordinary manner;--a Zisca conquerable only by Death,
and the Pest-Fever passing that way.

His birthplace, Troznow, is a village in the Budweis neighborhood, 100
miles to south. There, for three centuries after him, stood "Zisca's
Oak" (under shade of which, his mother, taken suddenly on the
harvest-field, had borne Zisca): a weird object, gate of Heaven and
of Orcus to the superstitious populations about. At midnight on the
Hallow-Eve, dark smiths would repair thither, to cut a twig of the Zisca
Oak: twig of it put, at the right moment, under your stithy, insures
good luck, lends pith to arm and heart, which is already good luck. So
that a Bishop of those parts, being of some culture, had to cut it down,
above a hundred years ago,--and build some Chapel in its stead; no Oak
there now, but an orthodox Inscription, not dated that I could see.
[Hormayr, _OEsterreichischer Plutarch,_ iii. (3tes), 110-145.]

Friedrich did not much pursue the Austrians after this Victory; having
cleared the Czaslau region of them, he continued there (at Kuttenberg
mainly); and directed all his industry to getting Peace made. His
experiences of Broglio, and of what help was likely to be had from
Broglio,--whom his Court, as Friedrich chanced to know, had ordered
"to keep well clear of the King of Prussia,"--had not been flattering.
Beaten in this Battle, Broglio's charity would have been a weak reed to
lean upon: he is happy to inform Broglio, that though kept well clear
of, he is not beaten.

[MAP GOES HERE---Book xiii, page 164----missing]

Blustering Broglio might have guessed that HE now would have to look to
himself. But he did not; his eyes naturally dim and bad, being dazzled
at this time, by "an ever-glorious victory" (so Broglio thinks it)
of his own achieving. Broglio, some couple of days after Czaslau, had
marched hastily out of Prag for Budweis quarter, where Lobkowitz and the
Austrians were unexpectedly bestirring themselves, and threatening
to capture that "Castle of Frauenberg" (mythic old Hill-castle among
woods), Broglio's chief post in those regions. Broglio, May 24th, has
fought a handsome skirmish (thanks partly to Belleisle, who chanced to
arrive from Frankfurt just in the nick of time, and joined Broglio):
Skirmish of Sahay; magnified in all the French gazettes into a Victory
of Sahay, victory little short of Pharsalia, says Friedrich;--the
complete account of which, forgotten now by all creatures, is to be read
in him they call Mauvillon; [_Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 204.] and makes a
pretty enough piece of fence, on the small scale. Lobkowitz had to give
up the Frauenberg enterprise; and cross to Budweis again, till new force
should come.

"Why not drive him out of Budweis," think the Two French Marshals, "him
and whatever force can come? If those lucky Prussians would co-operate,
and those unlucky Saxons, how easy were it!"--Belleisle sets off to
persuade Friedrich, to persuade Saxony (and we shall see him on the
route); Broglio waiting sublime, on the hither side of the Moldau, well
within wind of Budweis, till Belleisle prevail, and return with said
co-operation, What became of Broglio, waiting in this sublime manner,
we shall also have to see; but perhaps not for a great while yet (cannot
pause on such absurd phenomena yet),--though Broglio's catastrophe is
itself a thing imminent; and, within some ten days of that astonishing
Victory of Sahay, astonishes poor Broglio the reverse way. A man born
for surprises!



Chapter XIV. -- PEACE OF BRESLAU.

In actual loss of men or of ground, the results of that Chotusitz Affair
were not of decisive nature. But it had been fought with obstinacy; with
great fury on the Austrian side (who, as it were, had a bet upon it ever
since February 25th), Britannic George, and all the world, looking on:
and, in dispiritment and discredit to the beaten party, its results
were considerable. The voice of all the world, declaring through its
Gazetteer Editors, "You cannot beat those Prussians!" voice confirmed by
one's own sad thoughts:--in such sounding of the rams horns round one's
Jericho, there is always a strange influence (what is called panic, as
if Pan or some god were in it), and one's Jericho is the apter to fall!

Among the Austrian Prisoners, there was a General Pallandt, mortally
wounded too; whom Friedrich, according to custom, treated with his best
humanity, though all help was hopeless to poor Pallandt. Calling one
day at Pallandt's sick-couch, Friedrich was so sympathetic, humane and
noble, that Pallandt was touched by it; and said, "What a pity your
noble Majesty and my noble Queen should ruin one another, for a set
of French intruders, who play false even to your Majesty!" "False?"
Friedrich inquires farther: Pallandt, a man familiar at Court, has seen
a Letter from Fleury to the Queen of Hungary, conclusive as to Fleury's
good faith; will undertake, if permitted, to get his Majesty a sight
of it. Friedrich permits; the Fleury letter comes; to the effect: "Make
peace with us, O Queen; with your Prussian neighbor you shall make--what
suits you!" Friedrich read; learned conclusively, what perhaps he
had already as good as known otherwise; and drew the inference.
[_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 633; Hormayr, _Anemonen,_ ii. 186; Adelung,
iii. A, 149 n.] Actual copy of this letter the most ardent Gazetteer
curiosity could not attain to, at that epoch; but the Pallandt
story seems to have been true;--and as to the Fleury letter in such
circumstances, copies of various Fleury letters to the like purport are
still public enough; and Fleury's private intentions, already guessed
at by Friedrich, are in our time a secret to nobody that inquires about
them.

Certain enough, Peace with Friedrich is now on the way; and cannot well
linger:--what prospect has Austria otherwise? Its very supplies from
England will be stopped. Hyndford redoubles his diligence; Britannic
Majesty reiterates at Vienna: "Did not I tell you, Madam; there is no
hope or possibility till these Prussians are off our hands!" To which
her Hungarian Majesty, as the bargain was, now sorrowfully assents;
sorrowfully, unwillingly,--and always lays the blame on his Britannic
Majesty afterwards, and brings it up again as a great favor she had done
HIM. "Did not I give up my invaluable Silesia, the jewel of my crown,
for you, cruel Britannic Majesty with the big purse, and no heart
to speak of?" This she urges always, on subsequent occasions; the
high-souled Lady; reproachful of the patient, big-pursed little
Gentleman, who never answers as he might, "For ME, Madam? Well--!" In
short, Hyndford, Podewils and the Vienna Excellencies are busy.

Of these negotiations which go on at Breslau, and of the acres of
despatchcs, English, Austrian, and other, let us not say one word.
Enough that the Treaty is getting made, and rapidly,--though military
offences do not quite cease; clouds of Austrian Pandours hovering about
everywhere in Prince Karl's rear; pouncing down upon Prussian outposts,
convoys, mostly to little purpose; hoping (what proves quite futile)
they may even burn a Prussian magazine here or there. Contemptible to
the Prussian soldier, though very troublesome to him. Friedrich regards
the Pandour sort, with their jingling savagery, as a kind of military
vermin; not conceivable a Prussian formed corps should yield to any odds
of Pandour Tolpatch tagraggery. Nor does the Prussian soldier yield;
though sometimes, like the mastiff galled by inroad of distracted
weasels in too great quantity, he may have his own difficulties. Witness
Colonel Retzow and the Magazine at Pardubitz ("daybreak, May 24th")
VERSUS the infinitude of sudden Tolpatchery, bursting from the woods;
rabid enough for many hours, but ineffectual, upon Pardubitz and Retzow.
A distinguished Colonel this; of whom we shall hear again. Whose style
of Narrative (modest, clear, grave, brief), much more, whose vigilant
inexpugnable procedure on the occasion, is much to be commended to
the military man. [Given in Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 548 et seqq.]
Friedrich, the better to cover his Magazines, and be out of such
annoyances, fell back a little; gradually to Kuttenberg again
(Tolpatchery vanishing, of its own accord); and lay encamped there,
head-quarters in the Schloss of Maleschau near by,--till the Breslau
Negotiations completed themselves.

Prince Karl, fringed with Tolpatchery in this manner, but with much
desertion, much dispiritment, in his main body,--the HOOPS upon him
all loose, so to speak,--staggers zigzag back towards Budweis, and
the Lobkowitz Party there; intending nothing more upon the
Prussians;--capable now, think some NON-Prussians, of being well swept
out of Budweis, and over the horizon altogether. If only his Prussian
Majesty will co-operate! thinks Belleisle. "Your King of Prussia will
not, M. le Marechal!" answers Broglio:--No, indeed; he has tried that
trade already, M. le Marechal! think Broglio and we. The suspicions that
Friedrich, so quiescent after his Chotusitz, is making Peace, are
rife everywhere; especially in Broglio's head and old Fleury's; though
Belleisle persists with emphasis, officially and privately, in the
opposite opinion, "Husht, Messieurs!" Better go and see, however.

Belleisle does go; starts for Kuttenberg, for Dresden; his beautiful
Budweis project now ready, French reinforcements streaming towards us,
heart high again,--if only Friedrich and the Saxons will co-operate.
Belleisle, the Two Belleisles, with Valori and Company, arrived June
2d at Kuttenberg, at the Schloss of Maleschau;--"spoke little of
Chotusitz," says Stille; "and were none of them at the pains to ride to
the ground." Marechal Belleisle, for the next three days, had otherwise
speech of Friedrich; especially, on June 5th, a remarkable Dialogue.
"Won't your Majesty co-operate?" "Alas, Monseigneur de Belleisle--" How
gladly would we give this last Dialogue of Friedrich's and Belleisle's,
one of the most ticklish conceivable: but there is not anywhere the
least record of it that can be called authentic;--and we learn only that
Friedrich, with considerable distinctness, gave him to know, "clearly"
(say all the Books, except Friedrich's own), that co-operation was
henceforth a thing of the preter-pluperfect tense. "All that I ever
wanted, more than I ever demanded, Austria now offers; can any one blame
me that I close such a business as ours has all along been, on such
terms as these now offered me are?"

It is said, and is likely enough, the Pallandt-Fleury Letter came up; as
probably the MORAVIAN FORAY, and various Broglio passages, would, in
the train of said Letter. To all which, and to the inexorable painful
corollary, Belleisle, in his high lean way, would listen with a
stern grandiose composure. But the rumors add, On coming out into the
Anteroom, dialogue and sentence now done, Monseigneur de Belleisle
tore the peruke from his head; and stamping on it, was heard to say
volcanically, "That cursed parson,--CE MAUDIT CALOTTE [old Fleury],--has
ruined everything!" Perhaps it is not true? If true,--the prompt valets
would quickly replace Monseigneur's wig; chasing his long strides; and
silence, in so dignified a man, would cloak whatever emotions there
were. [Adelung, iii. A, 154; &c. &c. _Guerre de Boheme,_ (silent about
the wig) admits, as all Books do, the perfect clearness;--compare,
however, _OEuvres de Frederic;_ and also Broglio's strange darkness,
twelve days later, and Belleisle now beside him again (_Campagnes des
Trois Marechaux,_ v. 190, 191, of date 17th June);--darkness due perhaps
to the strange humor Broglio was then in?] He rolled off, he and his,
straightway to Dresden, there to invite co-operation in the Budweis
Project; there also in vain.--"CO-operation," M. le Marechal? Alas,
it has already come to operation, if you knew it! Aud your Broglio
is--Better hurry back to Prag, where you will find phenomena!

June 15th, Friedrich has a grand dinner of Generals at Maleschau; and
says, in proposing the first bumper, "Gentlemen, I announce to you,
that, as I never wished to oppress the Queen of Hungary, I have formed
the resolution of agreeing with that Princess, and accepting the
Proposals she has made me in satisfaction of my rights,"--telling them
withal what the chief terms were, and praising my Lord Hyndford for his
great services. Upon which was congratulation, cordial, universal; and,
with full rummers, "Health to the Queen of Hungary!" followed by others
of the like type, "Grand-Duke of Lorraine!" and "The brave Prince Karl!"
especially.

Brevity being incumbent on us, we shall say only that the
Hyndford-Podewils operations had been speeded, day and night; brought to
finis, in the form of Signed Preliminaries, as "Treaty of Breslau,
11th June, 1742;" and had gone to Friedrich's satisfaction in every
particular. Thanks to the useful Hyndford,--to the willing mind of his
Britannic Majesty, once so indignant, but made willing, nay passionately
eager, by his love of Human Liberty and the pressure of events! To
Hyndford, some weeks hence, [2d August (_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii.
729).]--I conclude, on Friedrich's request,--there was Order of the
Thistle sent; and grandest investiture ever seen almost, done by
Friedrich upon Hyndford (Jordan, Keyserling, Schwerin, and the Sword of
State busy in it; Two Queens and all the Berlin firmament looking on);
and, perhaps better still, on Friedrich's part there was gift of a
Silver Dinner-Service; gift of the Royal Prussian Arms (which do enrich
ever since the Shield of those Scottish Carmichaels, as doubtless the
Dinner-Service does their Plate-chest); and abundant praise and honor to
the useful Hyndford, heavy of foot, but sure, who had reached the goal.

This welcome Treaty, signed at Breslau, June 11th, and confirmed by
"Treaty of Berlin, July 28th," in more explicit solemn manner, to the
self-same effect, can be read by him that runs (if compelled to read
Treaties); [In _Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 1061-1064 (Treaty of Breslau),
ib. 1065-1070 (that of Berlin); to be found also in Wenck, Rousset,
Scholl, Adeluug, &c.] the terms, in compressed form, are:--

1. "Silesia, Lower and Upper, to beyond the watershed and the
Oppa-stream,--reserving only the Principality of Teschen, with
pertinents, which used to be reckoned Silesian, and the ulterior
Mountain-tops [Mountain-tops good for what? thought Friedrich, a year or
two afterwards!]--Silesia wholly, within those limits, and furthermore
the County Glatz and its dependencies, are and remain the property of
Friedrich and of his Heirs male or female; given up, and made his, to
all intents and purposes, forevermore. With which Friedrich, to the
like long date, engages to rest satisfied, and claim nothing farther
anywhere.

2. "Silesian Dutch-English Debt [Loan of about Two Millions, better half
of it English, contracted by the late Kaiser, on Silesian security,
in that dreadful Polish-Election crisis, when the Sea-Powers would not
help, but left it to their Stockbrokers] is undertaken by Friedrich, who
will pay interest on the same till liquidated.

3. "Religion to stand where it is. Prussian Majesty not to meddle in
this present or in other Wars of her Hungarian Majesty, except with his
ardent wishes that General Peace would ensue, and that all his friends,
Hungarian Majesty among others, were living in good agreement around
him."

This is the Treaty of Breslau (June 11th, 1742), or, in second more
solemn edition, Treaty of Berlin (July 28th following); signed,
ratified, guaranteed by his Britannic Majesty for one, [Treaty of
Westminster, between Friedrich aud George, 29th (18th) November, 1842
(Scholl, ii. 313).] and firmly planted on the Diplomatic adamant (at
least on the Diplomatic parchment) of this world. And now: Homewards,
then; march!--

Huge huzzaing, herald-trumpeting, bob-majoring, bursts forth from all
Prussian Towns, especially from all Silesian ones, in those June days,
as the drums beat homewards; elaborate Illuminations, in the short
nights; with bonfires, with transparencies,--Transparency inscribed
"FREDERICO MAGNO (To Friedrich THE GREAT)," in one small instance, still
of premature nature. [_Helden-Geschichte_ (ii. 702-729) is endless
on these Illuminations; the Jauer case, of FREDERICO MAGNO (Jauer in
Silesia), is of June 15th (ib. 712).]

Omitting very many things, about Silesian Fortresses, Army-Cantons,
Silesian settlements, military and civil, which would but weary the
reader, we add only this from Bielfeld: dusty Transit of a victorious
Majesty, now on the threshold of home. Precise date (which Bielfeld
prudently avoids guessing at) is July 11th, 1742; "M. de Pollnitz and I
are in the suite of the King:--

"We never stopped on the road, except some hours at Frankfurt-on-Oder,
where the Fair was just going on. On approaching the Town, we found the
highway lined on both sides with crowds of traders, and other strangers
of all nations; who had come out, attracted by curiosity to see the
conqueror of Silesia, and had ranged themselves in two rows there. His
Majesty's entry into Frankfurt, although a very triumphant one, was far
from being ostentatious. We passed like lightning before the eyes of the
spectators, and we were so covered with dust, that it was difficult to
distinguish the color of our coats and the features of our faces. We
made some purchases at Frankfurt; and arrived safely in the Capital
[next day], where the King was received amidst the acclamations of his
People." [Bielfeld, ii. 51.]

Here is a successful young King; is not he? Has plunged into the
Mahlstrom for his jewelled gold Cup, and comes up with it, alive,
unlamed. Will he, like that DIVER of Schiller's, have to try the feat a
second time? Perhaps a second time, and even a third!--





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