Infomotions, Inc.— Volume 14 / Carlyle, Thomas, 1795-1881

Author: Carlyle, Thomas, 1795-1881
Title: — Volume 14
Date: 1999-11-14
Contributor(s): Hogarth, C. J. [Translator]
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History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 14

by Thomas Carlyle

March, 2000  [Etext #2114]

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History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 14

by Thomas Carlyle



August, 1742-July, 1744.

Chapter I.


Friedrich's own Peace being made on such terms, his wish and hope
was, that it might soon be followed by a general European one;
that, the live-coal, which had kindled this War, being quenched,
the War itself might go out. Silesia is his; farther interest in
the Controversy, except that it would end itself in some fair
manner, he has none. "Silesia being settled," think many, thinks
Friedrich for one, "what else of real and solid is there
to settle?"

The European Public, or benevolent individuals of it everywhere,
indulged also in this hope. "How glorious is my King, the youngest
of the Kings and the grandest!" exclaims Voltaire (in his Letters
to Friedrich, at this time), and re-exclaims, till Friedrich has to
interfere, and politely stop it: "A King who carries in the one
hand an all-conquering sword, but in the other a blessed olive-
branch, and is the Arbiter of Europe for Peace or War!" "Friedrich
the THIRD [so Voltaire calls him, counting ill, or misled by
ignorance of German nomenclature], Friedrich the Third, I mean
Friedrich the Great (FREDERIC LE GRAND)," will do this, and do
that;--probably the first emergence of that epithet in human
speech, as yet in a quite private hypothetic way. [Letters of
Voltaire, in <italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xxii. 100,
&c.: this last Letter is of date "July, 1742"--almost contemporary
with the" Jauer Transparency" noticed above.] Opinions about
Friedrich's conduct, about his talents, his moralities, there were
many (all wide of the mark): but this seemed clear, That the weight
of such a sword as his, thrown into either scale, would be
decisive; and that he evidently now wished peace. An unquestionable
fact, that latter! Wished it, yes, right heartily; and also strove
to hope,--though with less confidence than the benevolent outside
Public, as knowing the interior of the elements better.

These hopes, how fond they were, we now all know. True, my friends,
the live-coal which kindled this incendiary whirlpool (ONE of the
live-coals, first of them that spread actual flame in these
European parts, and first of them all except Jenkins's Ear) is out,
fairly withdrawn; but the fire, you perceive, rages not the less.
The fire will not quench itself, I doubt, till the bitumen, sulphur
and other angry fuel have run much lower! Austria has fighting men
in abundance, England behind it has guineas; Austria has got
injuries, then successes:--there is in Austria withal a dumb pride,
quite equal in pretensions to the vocal vanity of France, and far
more stubborn of humor. The First Nation of the Universe, rashly
hurling its fine-throated hunting-pack, or Army of the Oriflamme,
into Austria,--see what a sort of badgers, and gloomily indignant
bears, it has awakened there! Friedrich had to take arms again;
and an unwelcome task it was to him, and a sore and costly.
We shall be obliged (what is our grand difficulty in this History)
to note, in their order, the series of European occurrences;
and, tedious as the matter now is, keep readers acquainted with the
current of that big War; in which, except Friedrich broad awake,
and the Ear of Jenkins in somnambulancy, there is now next to
nothing to interest a human creature.

It is an error still prevalent in England, though long since
exploded everywhere else, that Friedrich wanted new wars, "new
successful robberies," as our Gazetteers called them; and did
wilfully plunge into this War again, in the hope of again doing a
stroke in that kind. English readers, on consulting the facts a
little, will not hesitate to sweep that notion altogether away.
Shadow of basis, except in their own angry uninformed imaginations,
they will find it never had; and that precisely the reverse is
manifest in Friedrich's History. A perfectly clear-sighted
Friedrich; able to discriminate shine from substance;
and gravitating always towards the solid, the actual. That of
"GLOIRE," which he owns to at starting, we saw how soon it died
out, choked in the dire realities. That of Conquering Hero, in the
Macedonia's-madman style, was at all times far from him, if the
reader knew it,--perhaps never farther from any King who had such
allurements to it, such opportunities for it. This his First
Expedition to Silesia--a rushing out to seize your own stolen
horse, while the occasion answered--was a voluntary one; produced,
we may say, by Friedrich's own thought and the Invisible Powers.
But the rest were all purely compulsory,--to defend the horse he
had seized. Clear necessities, and Powers very Visible, were the
origin of all his other Expeditions and Warlike Struggles, which
lasted to the end of his life.

That recent "Moravian Foray;" the joint-stock principle in War
matters; and the terrible pass a man might reduce himself to, at
that enormous gaming-table of the gods, if he lingered there:
think what considerations these had been for him! So that "his look
became FAROUCHE," in the sight of Valori; and the spectre of Ruin
kept him company, and such hell-dogs were in chase of him;--till
Czaslau, when the dice fell kind again! All this had been didactic
on a young docile man. He was but thirty gone. And if readers mark
such docility at those years, they will find considerable meaning
in it. Here are prudence, moderation, clear discernment;
very unusual VERACITY of intellect, as we define it,--which
quality, indeed, is the summary and victorious outcome of all
manner of good qualities, and faithful performances, in a man.
"Given up to strong delusions," in the tragical way many are,
Friedrich was not; and, in practical matters, very seldom indeed
"believed a lie."

Certain it is, he now resumes his old Reinsberg Program of Life;
probably with double relish, after such experiences the other way;
and prosecutes it with the old ardor; hoping much that his History
will be of halcyon pacific nature, after all. Would the mad War-
whirlpool but quench itself; dangerous for singeing a near
neighbor, who is only just got out of it! Fain would he be arbiter,
and help to quench it; but it will not quench. For a space of Two
Years or more (till August, 1744, Twenty-six Months in all),
Friedrich, busy on his own affairs, with carefully neutral aspect
towards this War, yet with sword ready for drawing in case of need,
looks on with intense vigilance; using his wisest interference, not
too often either, in that sense and in that only, "Be at Peace; oh,
come to Peace!"--and finds that the benevolent Public and he have
been mistaken in their hopes. For the next Two Years, we say:--for
the first Year (or till about August, 1743), with hope not much
abated, and little actual interference needed; for the latter
Twelvemonth, with hope ever more abating; interference, warning,
almost threatening ever more needed, and yet of no avail, as if
they had been idle talking and gesticulation on his part:--till, in
August, 1744, he had to--But the reader shall gradually see it, if
by any method we can show it him, in something of its real
sequence; and shall judge of it by his own light.

Friedrich's Domestic History was not of noisy nature, during this
interval:--and indeed in the bewildered Records given of it, there
is nothing visible, at first, but one wide vortex of simmering
inanities; leading to the desperate conclusion that Friedrich had
no domestic history at all. Which latter is by no means the fact!
Your poor Prussian Dryasdust (without even an Index to help you)
being at least authentic, if you look a long time intensely and on
many sides, features do at last dawn out of those sad vortexes;
and you find the old Reinsberg Program risen to activity again;
and all manner of peaceable projects going on. Friedrich visits the
Baths of Aachen (what we call Aix-la-Chapelle); has the usual
Inspections, business activities, recreations, visits of friends.
He opens his Opera-House, this first winter. He enters on Law-
reform, strikes decisively into that grand problem; hoping to
perfect it. What is still more significant, he in private begins
writing his MEMOIRS. And furthermore, gradually determines on
having a little Country House, place of escape from his big Potsdam
Palace; and gets plans drawn for it,--place which became very
famous, by the name of SANS-SOUCI, in times coming. His thoughts
are wholly pacific; of Life to Minerva and the Arts, not to Bellona
and the Battles:--and yet he knows well, this latter too is an
inexorable element. About his Army, he is quietly busy;
augmenting, improving it; the staff of life to Prussia and him.

Silesian Fortress-building, under ugly Walrave, goes on at a
steadily swift rate. Much Silesian settlement goes on; fixing of
the Prussian-Austrian Boundaries without; of the Catholic-
Protestant limits within: rapid, not too rough, remodelling of the
Province from Austrian into Prussian, in the Financial,
Administrative and every other respect:--in all which important
operations the success was noiseless, but is considered to have
been perfect, or nearly so. Cannot we, from these enormous Paper-
masses, carefully riddled, afford the reader a glimpse or two, to
quicken his imagination of these things?


In regard to the Marches, Herr Nussler, as natural, was again the
person employed. Nussler, shifty soul, wide-awake at all times, has
already seen this Country; "noticed the Pass into Glatz with its
block-house, and perceived that his Majesty would want it."
From September 22d to December 12th, 1742, the actual Operation
went on; ratified, completely set at rest, 16th January following.
[Busching, <italic> Beitrage, <end italic> ? Nussler: and
Busching's <italic> Magazin, <end italic> b. x. (Halle, 1776);
where, pp. 475-538, is a "GESCHICHTE DER &c. SHLESISCHEN
GRANZSCHEIDUNG IM JAHR 1742," in great amplitude and authenticity.]
Nussler serves on three thalers (nine shillings) a day.
The Austrian Head-Commissioner has 5 pounds (thirty thalers) a day;
but he is an elderly fat gentleman, pursy, scant of breath;
cannot stand the rapid galloping about, and thousand-fold
inspecting and detailing; leaves it all to Nussler; who goes like
the wind. Thus, for example, Nussler dictates, at evening from his
saddle, the mutual Protocol of the day's doings; Old Pursy sitting
by, impatient for supper, and making no criticisms. Then at night,
Nussler privately mounts again; privately, by moonlight, gallops
over the ground they are to deal with next day, and takes notice of
everything. No wonder the boundary-pillars, set up in such manner,
which stand to this day, bear marks that Prussia here and there has
had fair play!--Poor Nussler has no fixed appointment yet, except
one of about 100 pounds a year: in all my travels I have seen no
man of equal faculty at lower wages. Nor did he ever get any signal
promotion, or the least exuberance of wages, this poor Nussler;--
unless it be that he got trained to perfect veracity of
workmanship, and to be a man without dry-rot in the soul of him;
which indeed is incalculable wages. Income of 100 pounds a year,
and no dry-rot in the soul of you anywhere; income of 100,000
pounds a year, and nothing but dry and wet rot in the soul of you
(ugly appetites unveracities, blusterous conceits,--and probably,
as symbol of all things, a pot-belly to your poor body itself):
Oh, my friends!

In settling the Spiritual or internal Catholic-Protestant limits of
Silesia, Friedrich did also a workmanlike thing. Perfect fairness
between Protestant and Catholic; to that he is bound, and never
needed binding. But it is withal his intention to be King in
Catholic Silesia; and that no Holy Father, or other extraneous
individual, shall intrude with inconvenient pretensions there.
He accordingly nominates the now Bishop of Neisse and natural
Primate of Silesia,--Cardinal von Sinzendorf, who has made
submission for any late Austrian peccadilloes, and thoroughly
reconciled himself,--nominates Sinzendorf "Vicar-General" of the
Country; who is to relieve the Pope of Silesian trouble, and be
himself Quasi-Supreme of the Catholic Church there. "No offence,
Holy Papa of Christian Mankind! Your holy religion is, and shall
be, intact in these parts; but the palliums, bulls and other holy
wares and interferences are not needed here. On that footing, be
pleased to rest content."

The Holy Father shrieked his loudest (which is now a quite
calculable loudness, nothing like so loud as it once was);
declared he would "himself join the Army of Martyrs sooner;"
and summoned Sinzendorf to Rome: "What kind of HINGE are you,
CARDINALIS of the Gates of"-- Husht! Shrieked his loudest, we say;
but, as nobody minded it, and as Sinzendorf would not come, had to
let the matter take its course. [Adelung, iii. A. 197-200.]
And, gradually noticing what correct observance of essentials there
was, he even came quite round, into a high state of satisfaction
with this Heretic King, in the course of a few years. Friedrich and
the Pope were very polite to each other thenceforth; always ready
to do little mutual favors. And it is to be remarked, Friedrich's
management of his Clergy, Protestant and Catholic, was always
excellent; true, in a considerable degree, to the real law of
things; gentle, but strict, and without shadow of hypocrisy,--
in which last fine particular he is singularly unique among
Modern Sovereigns.

He recognizes honestly the uses of Religion, though he himself has
little; takes a good deal of pains with his Preaching Clergy, from
the Army-Chaplain upwards,--will suggest texts to them, with scheme
of sermon, on occasion;--is always anxious to have, as Clerical
Functionary, the right man in the important place; and for the
rest, expects to be obeyed by them, as by his Sergeants and
Corporals. Indeed, the reverend men feel themselves to be a body of
Spiritual Sergeants, Corporals and Captains; to whom obedience is
the rule, and discontent a thing not to be indulged in by any
means. And it is worth noticing, how well they seem to thrive in
this completely submissive posture; how much real Christian worth
is traceable in their labors and them; and what a fund of piety and
religious faith, in rugged effectual form, exists in the Armies and
Populations of such a King. ["In 1780, at Berlin, the population
being 140,000, there are of ECCLESIASTIC kind only 140; that is
1 to the 1,000;--at Munchen there are thirty times as many in
proportion" (Mirabeau, <italic>  Monarchie Prussienne, <end italic>
viii. 342; quoting NICOLAI).] ...

By degrees the Munchows and Official Persons intrusted with Silesia
got it wrought in all respects, financial, administrative,
judicial, secular and spiritual, into the Prussian model: a long
tough job; but one that proved well worth doing. [In Preuss
(i. 197-200), the various steps (from 1740 to 1806).] In this
state, counts one authority, it was worth to Prussia "about six
times what it had been to Austria;"--from some other forgotten
source, I have seen the computation "eight times." In money
revenue, at the end of Friedrich's reign, it is a little more than
twice; the "eight times" and the "six times," which are but loose
multiples, refer, I suppose, to population, trade, increase of
national wealth, of new regiments yielded by new cantons, and the
like. [Westphalen, in <italic> Feldzuge des Herzogs Ferdinand <end
italic> (printed, Berlin, 1859, written 100 years before by that
well-informed person), i. 65, says in the rough "six times:"
Preuss, iv. 292, gives, very indistinctly, the ciphers of Revenue,
in 1740 and SOME later Year: according to Friedrich himself
(<italic> Oeuvres, ii. 102), the Silesian Revenue at first was
"3,600,000 thalers" (540,000 pounds, little more than Half a
Million); Population, a Million-and-Half.]

Six or eight times as useful to Prussia: and to the Inhabitants
what multiple of usefulness shall we give? To be governed on
principles fair and rational, that is to say, conformable to
Nature's appointment in that respect; and to be governed on
principles which contradict the very rules of Cocker, and with
impious disbelief of the very Multiplication Table: the one is a
perpetual Gospel of Cosmos and Heaven to every unit of the
Population; the other a Gospel of Chaos and Beelzebub to every unit
of them: there is no multiple to be found in Arithmetic which will
express that!--Certain of these advantages, in the new Government,
are seen at once; others, the still more valuable, do not appear,
except gradually and after many days and years. With the one and
the other, Schlesien appears to have been tolerably content.
From that Year 1742 to this, Schlesien has expressed by word and
symptom nothing but thankfulness for the Transfer it underwent;
and there is, for the last Hundred Years, no part of the Prussian
Dominion more loyal to the Hohenzollerns (who are the Authors of
Prussia, without whom Prussia had never been), than this their
latest acquisition, when once it too got moulded into their own
image. [Preuss, i. 193, and ib. 200 (Note from Klein, a Silesian
Jurist): "Favor not merit formerly;" "Magistracies a regular branch
of TRADE;"--"highway robbers on a strangely familiar footing with
the old Breslau magistrates;" &c. &c.]


... December 7th, this Winter, Carnival being come or just coming,
Friedrich opens his New Opera-House, for behoof of the cultivated
Berlin classes; a fine Edifice, which had been diligently built by
Knobelsdorf, while those Silesian battlings went on. "One of the
largest and finest Opera-houses in the whole world; like a
sumptuous Palace rather. Stands free on all sides, space for 1,000
Coaches round it; Five great Entrances, five persons can walk
abreast through each; and inside--you should see, you should hear!
Boxes more like rooms or boudoirs, free view and perfect hearing of
the stage from every point: air pure and free everywhere;
water aloft, not only for theatrical cascades, but to drown out any
fire or risk of fire." [Seyfarth, i. 234; Nicolai, <italic>
Beschreibung von Berlin, <end italic> i. 169.] This is Seyfarth's
account, still capable of confirmation by travelling readers of a
musical turn. I have seen Operas with much more brilliancy of gas
and gilding; but none nearly so convenient to the human mind and
sense; or where the audience (not now a gratis one) attended to the
music in so meritorious a way.

"Perhaps it will attract moneyed strangers to frequent our
Capital?"--some guess, that was Friedrich's thought. "At all
events, it is a handsome piece of equipage, for a musical King and
People; not to be neglected in the circumstances. Thalia, in
general,--let us not neglect Thalia, in such a dearth of
worshipable objects." Nor did he neglect Thalia. The trouble
Friedrich took with his Opera, with his Dancing-Apparatus, French
Comedy, and the rest of that affair, was very great. Much greater,
surely, than this Editor would have thought of taking; though, on
reflection, he does not presume to blame. The world is dreadfully
scant of worshipable objects: and if your Theatre is your own, to
sweep away intrusive nonsense continually from the gates of it?
Friedrich's Opera costs him heavy sums (surely I once knew
approximately what, but the sibylline leaf is gone again upon the
winds!)--and he admits gratis a select public, and that only.
[Preuss, i. 277; and Preuss, <italic> Buch fur Jedermann, <end
italic> i. 100.] "This Winter, 1742-43, was unusually magnificent at
Court: balls, WIRTHSCHAFTEN [kind of MIMIC FAIRS], sledge-parties,
masquerades, and theatricals of all sorts;--and once even, December
2d, the new Golden Table-Service [cost of it 200,000 pounds] was in
action, when the two Queens [Queen Regnant and Queen Mother] dined
with his Majesty."


Months before that of the Opera-House or those Silesian
settlements, Friedrich, in the end of August, what is the first
thing visible in his Domestic History, makes a visit, for health's
sake, to Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle so called), with a view to the
waters there. Intends to try for a little improvement in health, as
the basis of ulterior things. Health has naturally suffered a
little in these War-hardships; and the Doctors recommend Aix.
After Wesel, and the Westphalian Inspections, Friedrich,
accordingly, proceeds to Aix; and for about a fortnight (23th
August-9th September) drinks the waters in that old resting-place
of Charlemagne;--particulars not given in the Books; except that
"he lodged with Baege" (if any mortal now knew Baege), and did an
Audience or so to select persons now unknown. He is not entirely
incognito, but is without royal state; the "guard of twenty men,
the escort of 160 men," being no men of his, but presumably mere
Town-guard of Aix coming in an honorary way. Aix is proud to see
him; he himself is intent on the waters here at old Aix:--

Aquisgranum, urbs regalis,
Sedes Regni principalis:--
<end italic>)

My friend, this was Charlemagne's high place; and his dust lies
here, these thousand years last past. And there used to soar "a
very large Gilt Eagle," ten feet wide or so, aloft on the
Cathedral-steeple there; Eagle turned southward when the Kaiser was
in Frankenland, eastward when he was in Teutsch or Teuton-land;
in fact, pointing out the Kaiser's whereabouts to loyal mankind.
[Kohler, <italic> Reichs-Historie. <end italic>] Eagle which shines
on me as a human fact; luminously gilt, through the dark
Dryasdustic Ages, gone all spectral under Dryasdust's sad handling.
Friedrich knows farther, that for many centuries after, the
"Reich's INSIGNIA (REICHS-KLEINODIEN)" used to be here,--though
Maria Theresa has them now, and will not give them up. The whole of
which points are indifferent to him. The practical, not the
sentimental, is Friedrich's interest;--not to say that WERTER and
the sentimental were not yet born into our afflicted Earth. A King
thoroughly practical;--yet an exquisite player on the flute withal,
as we often notice; whose adagio could draw tears from you. For in
himself, too, there were floods of tears (as when his Mother died);
and he has been heard saying, not bragging but lamenting, what was
truly the fact, that "he had more feeling than other men." But it
was honest human feeling always; and was repressed, where not
irrepressible;--as it behooved to be.

Friedrich's suite was not considerable, says the French spy at Aix
on this occasion; pomp of Entrance,--a thing to be mute upon!
"Came driving in with the common post-horses of the country;
and such a set of carriages as your Lordship, intent on the
sublime, has no idea of." [Spy-Letter, in <italic> Campagnes des
Trois Marechaux, <end italic> i. 222.] Rumor was, His Britannic
Majesty was coming (also on pretext of the waters) to confer with
him; other rumor is, If King George came in at one gate, King
Friedrich would go out at the other. A dubious Friedrich, to the
French spy, at this moment; nothing like so admirable as he
once was!--

The French emotions (of which we say little), on Friedrich's making
Peace for himself, had naturally been great. To the French Public
it was unexpected, somewhat SUDDEN even to the Court; and, sure
enough, it was of perilous importance in the circumstances.
Few days ago, Broglio (by order given him) "could not spare a man,"
for the Common Cause;--and now the Common Cause has become entirely
the Broglio one, and Broglio will have the full use of all his men!
"Defection [plainly treasonous to your Liege Lord and Nation]!
horrible to think of!" cried the French Public; the Court outwardly
taking a lofty tragic-elegiac tone, with some air of hope that his
Prussian Majesty would perhaps come round again, to the side of his
afflicted France! Of which, except in the way of helping France and
the other afflicted parties to a just Peace if he could, his
Prussian Majesty had small thought at this time.

More affecting to Friedrich were the natural terrors of the poor
Kaiser on this event. The Kaiser has already had his Messenger at
Berlin, in consequence of it; with urgent inquiries, entreaties;--
an expert Messenger, who knows Berlin well. So other than our old
friend, the Ordnance-Master Seckendorf, now titular Feldmarschall,
--whom one is more surprised than delighted to meet again!
Being out with Austria (clamoring for great sums of "arrears,"
which they will not pay), he has been hanging about this new
Kaiser, ever since Election-time; and is again getting into
employment, Diplomatic, Strategic, for some years,--though we hope
mostly to ignore him and it. Friedrich's own feeling at sight of
him,--ask not about it, more than if there had been none! Friedrich
gave him "a distinguished reception;" Friedrich's answer sent by
him to the Kaiser was all kindness; emphatic assurance, "That, not
'hostility' by any means, that loyalty, friendship, and aid
wherever possible within the limits, should always be his rule
towards the now Kaiser, lawful Head of the Reich, in difficult
circumstances." ["Audience, 30th July" (Adelung, iii. A, 217).]
Which was some consolation to the poor man,--stript of his old
revenues, old Bavarian Dominions, and unprovided with new;
this sublime Headship of the Reich bring moneyless; and one's new
"Kingdom of Bohemia" hanging in so uncertain a state, with nothing
but a Pharsalia-Sahay to show for itself!--

Among Friedrich's "inconsiderable suite," at Aachen, was Prince
Henri (his youngest Brother, age now sixteen, a small, sensitive,
shivering creature, but of uncommon parts); and another young man,
Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, his Wife's youngest Brother;
a soldier, as all the Brothers are; soldier in Friedrich's Army,
this one; in whose fine inarticulate eupeptic character are
excellent dispositions and capacities discernible. Ferdinand goes
generally with the King; much about him in these years. All the
Brothers follow soldiering; it is the one trade of German Princes.
When at home, Friedrich is still occasionally with his Queen;
who lives at Schonhausen, in the environs of Berlin, but goes with
him to Charlottenburg, to old Reinsberg; and has her share of galas
in his company, with the Queen Mother and cognate Highnesses.

Another small fact, still more memorable at present, is, That
Voltaire now made him a Third Visit,--privately on Fleury's
instance, as is evident this time. Of which Voltaire Visit readers
shall know duly, by and by, what little is knowable. But, alas,
there is first an immense arrear of War-matters to bring up;
to which, still more than to Voltaire, the afflicted reader must
address himself, if he would understand at all what Friedrich's
Environment, or circumambient Life-element now was, and how
Friedrich, well or ill, comported himself in the same.
Brevity, this Editor knows, is extremely desirable, and that the
scissors should be merciless on those sad Paper-Heaps, intolerable
to the modern mind; but, unless the modern mind chance to prefer
ease and darkness, what can an Editor do!

Chapter II.


Austrian affairs are not now in their nadir-point; a long while now
since they passed that. Austria, to all appearance dead, started
up, and began to strike for herself, with some success, the instant
Walpole's SOUP-ROYAL (that first 200,000 pounds, followed since by
abundance more) got to her lips. Touched her poor pale lips;
and went tingling through her, like life and fiery elasticity, out
of death by inanition! Cardinal moment, which History knows, but
can never date, except vaguely, some time in 1741; among the last
acts of judicious Walpole.

Austria, thanks to its own Khevenhullers and its English guineas,
was already rising in various quarters: and now when the Prussian
Affair is settled, Austria springs up everywhere like an elastic
body with the pressure taken from it; mounts steadily, month after
month, in practical success, and in height of humor in a still
higher ratio. And in the course of the next Two Years rises to a
great height indeed. Here--snatched, who knows with what
difficulty, from that shoreless bottomless slough of an Austrian-
Succession War, deservedly forgotten, and avoided by extant
mankind--are some of the more essential phenomena, which Friedrich
had to witness in those months. To witness, to scan with such
intense interest,--rightly, at his peril;--and to interpret as
actual "Omens" for him, as monitions of a most indisputable nature!
No Haruspex, I suppose, with or without "white beard, and long
staff for cutting the Heavenly Vault into compartments from the
zenith downwards," could, in Etruria or elsewhere, "watch the
flight of birds, now into this compartment, now into that," with
stricter scrutiny than, on the new terms, did this young King from
his Potsdam Observatory.

FOR SEVEN MONTHS (February-October, 1742).

"The first phenomenon, cheering to Austria, is that of the
Britannic Majesty again clutching sword, with evident intent to
draw it on her behalf. [Tindal, xx. 552; Old Newspapers; &c. &c.]
Besides his potent soup-royal of Half-Millions annually, the
Britannic Majesty has a considerable sword, say 40,000, of British
and of subsidized;--sword which costs him a great deal of money to
keep by his side; and a great deal of clamor and insolent gibing
from the Gazetteer species, because he is forced to keep it
strictly in the scabbard hitherto. This Year, we observe, he has
determined again to draw it, in the Cause of Human Liberty,
whatever follow. From early Spring there were symptoms: Camps on
Lexden and other Heaths, much reviewing in Hyde-Park and elsewhere;
from all corners a universal marching towards the Kent Coast;
the aspects being favorable. 'We can besiege Dunkirk at any rate,
cannot we, your High Mightinesses? Dunkirk, which, by all the
Treaties in existence, ought to need no besieging; but which, in
spite of treatyings innumerable, always does?' The High
Mightinesses answer nothing articulate, languidly grumble something
in OPTATIVE tone;--'meaning assent,' thinks the sanguine mind.
'Dutch hoistable, after all!' thinks he; 'Dutch will co-operate, if
they saw example set!' And, in England, the work of embarking
actually begins.

"Britannic Majesty's purpose, and even fixed resolve to this
effect, had preceded the Prussian-Austrian Settlement. May 20th,
["9th" by the Old Newspapers; but we always TRANSLATE their o.s.]
'Two regiments of Foot,' first poor instalment of British Troops,
had actually landed at Ostend;--news of the Battle of Chotusitz,
much more, of the Austrian-Prussian Settlement, or Peace of
Breslau, would meet them THERE. But after that latter auspicious
event, things start into quick and double-quick time; and the
Gazetteers get vocal, almost lyrical: About Howard's regiment,
Ponsonby's regiment, all manner of regiments, off to Flanders, for
a stroke of work; how 'Ligonier's Dragoons [a set of wild swearing
fellows, whom Guildford is happy to be quit of] rode through
Bromley with their kettle-drums going, and are this day at
Gravesend to take ship;'"--or to give one other, more
specific example:

"Yesterday [3d July, 1742] General Campbell's Regiment of Scotch
Greys arrived in the Borough of Southwark, on their march to Dover,
where they are to embark for Flanders. They are fine hardy fellows,
that want no seasoning; and make an appearance agreeable to all but
the innkeepers,"--who have such billeting to do, of late.
[<italic> Daily Post, <end italic> June 23d (o.s.), 1742.]
"Grey Dragoons," or Royal Scots-Greys, is the title of this fine
Regiment; and their Colonel is Lieutenant-General John Campbell,
afterwards Duke of Argyle (fourth Duke), Cousin of the great second
Duke of Argyle that now is. [Douglas, <italic> Scotch Peerage <end
italic> (Edinburgh, 1764), p. 44.] Visibly billeting there, in
Southwark, with such intentions:--and, by accident, this Editor
knows Twenty of these fine fellows! Twenty or so, who had gone in
one batch as Greys; sons of good Annandale yeomen, otherwise
without a career open: some Two of whom did get back, and lived to
be old men; the rumor of whom, and of their unheard-of adventures,
was still lingering in the air, when this Editor began existence.
Pardon, O reader!--

"But, all through those hot days, it is a universal drumming,
kettle-drumming, coast-ward; preparation of transports at
Gravesend, at the top of one's velocity. 'All the coopers in London
are in requisition for water-casks, so that our very brewers have
to pause astonished for want of tubs.' There is pumping in of water
day and night, Sunday not excepted, then throwing of it out again
[owing to new circumstances]: 250 saddle-horses, and 100 sumpter
ditto, for his Majesty's own use,--these need a deal of water,
never to speak of Ligonier and the Greys. 'For the honor of our
Country, his Majesty will make a grander appearance this Campaign
than any of his Predecessors ever did; and as to the magnificence
of his equipage,'--besides the 350 quadrupeds, 'there are above 100
rich portmanteaus getting ready with all expedition.'
[<italic> Daily Post, <end italic> September 13th (I.E. 26th).]
The Fat Boy too [Royal Highness Duke of Cumberland, one should say]
is to go; a most brave-hearted, flaxen-florid, plump young
creature; hopeful Son of Mars, could he once get experience, which,
alas, he never could, though trying it for five-and-twenty years to
come, under huge expense to this Nation! There are to be 16,000
troops, perhaps more; '1,000 sandbags' (empty as yet);
demolition of Dunkirk the thing aimed at." If only the Dutch
prove hoistable!--

"And so, from May on to September, it noisily proceeds, at
multiplex rates? and often with more haste than speed: and in such
five months (seven, strictly counted) of clangorous movement and
dead-lift exertion, there were veritably got across, of Horse and
Foot with their equipments, the surprising number of '16,334 men.'
[Adelung, iii. A, 201.] May 20th it began,--that is, the embarking
began; the noise and babble about it, which have been incessant
ever since, had begun in February before;--and on September 26th,
Ostend, now almost weary of huzzaing over British glory by
instalment, had the joy of seeing our final portions of Artillery
arrive: Such a Park of Siege-and-Field Artillery," exults the
Gazetteer, "as"--as these poor creatures never dreamt of before.

"Magnanimous Lord Stair, already Plenipotentiary to the Dutch, is
to be King's General-in-Chief of this fine Enterprise; Carteret,
another Lord of some real brilliancy, and perhaps of still
weightier metal, is head of the Cabinet; hearty, both of them, for
these Anti-French intentions: and the Public cannot but think,
Surely something will come of it this time? More especially now
that Maillebois, about the middle of August, by a strange turn of
fortune, is swept out of the way. Maillebois, lying over in
Westphalia with his 30 or 40,000, on 'Check to your King' this year
past, had, on sight of these Anti-Dunkirk movements, been ordered
to look Dunkirk way, and at length to move thitherward, for
protection of Dunkirk. So that Stair, before his Dunkirk business,
will have to fight Maillebois; which Stair doubts not may be
satisfactorily done. But behold, in August and earlier, come
marvellous news from the Prag quarter, tragical to France;
and Maillebois is off, at his best speed, in the reverse direction;
on a far other errand!"--Of which readers shall soon hear enough.

"Dunkirk, therefore, is now open. With 16,000 British troops,
Hanoverians to the like number, and Hessians 6,000, together near
40,000, not to speak of Dutch at all, surely one might manage
Dunkirk, if not something still better? It is AFTER Maillebois's
departure that these dreadful exertions, coopering of water-casks,
pumping all Sunday, go on at Gravesend: 'Swift, oh, be swift, while
time is!' And Generalissimo-Plenipotentiary Stair, who has run over
beforehand, is ardent enough upon the Dutch; his eloquence fiery
and incessant: 'Magnanimous High Mightinesses, was there, will
there again be, such a chance? The Cause of Human Liberty may be
secured forever! Dunkirk--or what is Dunkirk even? Between us and
Paris, there is nothing, now that Maillebois is off on such an
errand! Why should not we play Marlborongh again, and teach them a
little what Invasion means? It is ourselves alone that can hinder
it! Now, I say, or never!'

"Stair was a pupil of Marlborough's; is otherwise a shining kind of
man; and has immense things in his eye, at this time. They say,
what is not unlikely, he proposed an Interview with Friedrich now
at Aachen; would come privately, to 'take the waters' for a day or
two,--while Maillebois was on his new errand, and such a crisis had
risen. But Friedrich, anxious to be neutral and give no offence,
politely waived such honor. Lord Stair was thought to be something
of a General, in fact as well as in costume;--and perhaps he was
so. And had there been a proper COUNTESS of Stair, or new Sarah
Jennings,--to cover gently, by art-magic, the Britannic Majesty and
Fat Boy under a tub; and to put Britain, and British Parliament and
resources, into Stair's hand for a few years,--who knows what Stair
too might have done! A Marlborough in the War Arts,--perhaps still
less in the Peace ones, if we knew the great Marlborough,--he could
not have been. But there is in him a recognizable flash of
magnanimity, of heroic enterprise and purpose; which is highly
peculiar in that sordid element. And it can be said of him, as of
lightning striking ineffectual on the Bog of Allen or the Stygian
Fens, that his strrngth was never tried."--For the upshot of him we
will wait; not very long.

These are fine prospects, if only the Dutch prove hoistable.
But these are as nothing to what is passing, and has passed, in the
Eastern Parts, in the Bohemian-Bavarian quarter, since we were
there. Poor Kaiser Karl, what an outlook for him! His own real
Bavaria, much more his imaginary "Upper Austria" and "Conquests on
the Donau," after that Segur Adventure, are plunging headlong.
As to his once "Kingdom of Bohemia," it has already plunged;
nay, the Army of the Oriflamme is itself near plunging, in spite of
that Pharsalia of a Sahay! Bavaria itself, we say, is mostly gone
to Khevenhuller; Segur with his French on march homeward, and
nothing but Bavarians left. Thz Belleisle-Broglio grand Budweis
Expedition is gone totally heels over head; Belleisle and Broglio
are getting, step by step, shut up in Prag and besieged there:
while Maillebois--Let us try whether, by snatching out here a
fragment and there a fragment, with chronological and other
appliances, it be not possible to give readers some conceivable
notion of what Friedrich was now looking at with such interest!--


The poor Kaiser, who at one time counted "30,000 Bavarians of his
own," has all along been ill served by them and the bad Generals
they had: two Generals; both of whom, Minuzzi, and old
Feldmarschall Thorring (Prime Minister withal), came to a bad
reputation in this War. Beaten nearly always; Thorring quite
always,--"like a DRUM, that Thorring; never heard of except when
beaten," said the wits! Of such let us not speak. Understand only,
FIRST, that the French, reasonably soon after that Linz explosion,
did, in such crisis, get reinforcements on the road; a Duc
d'Harcourt with some 25,000 faring forward, in an intermittent
manner, ever since "March 4th." And SECONDLY, that Khevenhuller has
fast hold of Passau, the Austrian-Bavarian Key-City; is master of
nearly all Bavaria (of Munchen, and all that lies south of the
Donau); and is now across on the north shore, wrenching and tugging
upon Kelheim and the Ingolstadt-Donauworth regions, with nothing
but Thorring people and small French Garrisons to hinder him;--
where it will be fatal if he quite prosper; Ingolstadt being our
Place-of-Arms, and House on the Highway, both for Bavaria
and Bohemia!

"For months past, there had been a gleam of hope for Kaiser Karl,
and his new 'Kingdom of Bohemia,' and old Electorate of Bavaria,
from the rumor of 'D'Harcourt's reinforcement,'--a 20 or 30,000 new
Frenchmen marching into those parts, in a very detached
intermittent manner; great in the Gazettes. But it proved a gleam
only, and came to nothing effectual. Poor D'Harcourt, owing to
cross orders [Groglio clamorously demanding that the new force
should come to Prag; Karl Albert the Kaiser, nominally General-in-
Chief, demanding that it should go down the Donau and sweep his
Bavaria clear], was in difficulty. To do either of these cross
orders might have brought some result; but to half-do both of them,
as he was enjoined to attempt, was not wise! Some half of his force
he did detach towards Broglio; which got to actual junction, partly
before, partly after, that Pharsalia-Sahay Affair, and raised
Broglio to a strength of 24,000,--still inadequate against Prince
Karl. Which done, D'Harcourt himself went down the Donau, on his
original scheme, with the remainder of his forces,--now likewise
become inadequate. He is to join with Feldmarschall Thorring in
the"--And does it, as we shall see presently! ...

MUNCHEN, 5th MAY. "Rumor of D'Harcourt had somewhat cleared Bavaria
of Austrians; but the reality of him, in a divided state, by no
means corresponds. Thus Munchen City, in the last days of April,--
D'Harcourt advancing, terrible as a rumor,--rejoiced exceedingly to
see the Austrians march out, at their best pace. And the exultant
populace even massacred a loitering Tolpatch or two; who well
deserve it, think the populace, judging by their experience for the
last three months, since Barenklau and Mentzel became King here.--
'Rumor of D'Harcourt?' answers Khevenhuller from the Kelheim-Passau
side of things: 'Let us wait for sight of him, at least!'
And orders Munchen to be reoccupied. So that, alas, 'within a
week,' on the 5th of May, Barenklau is back upon the poor City;
exacts severe vengeance for the Tolpatch business; and will give
them seven months more of his company, in spite of D'Harcourt, and
'the Army of Bavaria' as he now called himself:"--new "Army of
Bavaria," when once arrived in those Countries, and joined with
poor Thorring and the Kaiser's people there. Such an "Army of
Bavaria," first and last, as--as Khevenhuller could have wished it!
Under D'Harcourt, joined with old Feldmarschall Thorring (him whom
men liken to a DRUM, "never heard of except when beaten"), this is
literally the sum of what fighting it did:

"HILGARTSBERG (Deggendorf Donau-Country), MAY 28th. D'Harcourt and
Thorring, after junction at Donauworth several weeks ago, and a
good deal of futile marching up and down in those Donau Countries,
--on the left bank, for most part;  Khevenhuller holding stiffly,
as usual, by the Inn, the Iser, and the rivers and countries on the
right,--did at last, being now almost within sight of Passau and
that important valley of the Inn across yonder, seriously decide to
have a stroke at Passau, and to dislodge Khevenhuller, who is weak
in force, though obstinate. They perceive that there is, on this
left bank, a post in the woods, Castle of Hilgartsberg, none of the
strongest Castles, rather a big Country Mansion than a Castle,
which it will be necessary first to take. They go accordingly to
take it (May 28th, having well laid their heads together the day
before); march through intricate wet forest country, peat above all
abundant; see the Castle of Hilgartsberg towering aloft,
picturesque object in the Donau Valley, left bank;--are met by
cannon-shot, case-shot, shot of every kind; likewise by Croats
apparently innumerable, by cavalry sabrings and levelled bayonets;
do not behave too well, being excessively astonished; and are glad
to get off again, leaving one of their guns lodged in the mud, and
about a hundred unfortunate men. [<italic> Guerre de Boheme, <end
italic> ii. 146-148, 136, &c.] This quite disgusted D'Harcourt with
the Passau speculation and these grim Khevenhuller outposts.
He straightway took to collecting Magazines; lodging himself in the
attainable Towns thereabouts, Deggendorf the chief strength for
him; and gave up fighting till perhaps better times might arrive."
We will wish him good success in the victualling department, hope
to hear no more of him in this History;--and shall say only that
Comte de Saxe, before long, relieves him of this Bavarian Army;--
and will be seen at the head of it, on a most important business
that rises.

Kaiser Karl begins to have real thoughts of recalling this
Thorring, who is grown so very AUDIBLE, altogether home; and of
appointing Seckendorf instead. A course which Belleisle has been
strongly recommending for some time. Seckendorf is at present
"gathering meal in the Ober-Pfalz" (Upper Palatinate, road from
Ingolstadt to Eger, to Bohmen generally), that is, forming
Magazines, on the Kaiser's behalf there: "Surely a likelier man
than your Thorring!" urges Belleisle always. With whom the Kaiser
does finally comply; nominates Seckendorf commander,--recalls the
invaluable Thorring!" to his services in our Cabinet Council, which
more befit his great age." In which safe post poor Thorring, like a
Drum NOT beaten upon, has thenceforth a silent life of it;
Seckendorf fighting in his stead,--as we shall have to witness,
more or less.

Khevenhuller's is a changed posture, since he stood in Vienna,
eight or nine months ago; grimly resolute, drilling his "6,000 of
garrison," with the wheelbarrows all busy!--But her Hungarian
Majesty's chief success, which is now opening into outlooks of a
quite triumphant nature, has been that over the New Oriflamme
itself, the Belleisle-Broglio Army,--most sweet to her Majesty to
triumph over! Shortly after Chotusitz, shortly after that Pharsalia
of a Sahay, readers remember Belleisle's fine Project, "Conjoined
attack on Budweis, and sweeping of Bohemia clear;"--readers saw
Belleisle, in the Schloss of Maleschau, 5th June last, rushing out
(with violence to his own wig, says rumor); hurrying off to Dresden
for co-operation; equally in vain. "Co-operation, M. le Marechal;
attack on Budweis?"--Here is another Fragment:--


BUDWEIS, JUNE 4th,-PRAG, JUNE 13th. "Broglio, ever since that Sahay
[which had been fought so gloriously on Frauenberg's account], lay
in the Castle of Frauenberg, in and around,--hither side of the
Moldau river, with his Pisek thirty miles to rear, and judicious
outposts all about. There lay Broglio, meditating the attack on
Budweis [were co-operation once here],--when, contrariwise,
altogether on the sudden, Budweis made attack on Broglio;
tumbled him quite topsy-turvy, and sent him home to Prag, uncertain
which end uppermost; rolling like a heap of mown stubble in the
wind, rather than marching like an army!" ... Take one glance
at him:--

"JUNE 4th, 1742 [day BEFORE that of Belleisle's "Wig" at Maleschau,
had Belleisle known it!]--Prince Karl, being now free of the
Prussians, and ready for new work, issued suddenly from Budweis;
suddenly stept across the Moldau,--by the Bridge of Moldau-Tein,
sweeping away the French that lay there. Prince Karl swept away
this first French Post, by the mere sight and sound of him;
swept away, in like fashion, the second and all following posts;
swept Broglio himself, almost without shot fired, and in huge
flurry, home to Prag, double-quick, night and day,--with much loss
of baggage, artillery, prisoners, and total loss of one's presence
of mind. 'Poor man, he was born for surprises' [said Friedrich's
Doggerel long ago]! Manoeuvred consummately [he asserts] at
different points, behind rivers and the like; but nowhere could he
call halt, and resolutely stand still. Which undoubtedly he could
and should have done, say Valori and all judges;--nothing quite
immediate being upon him, except the waste-howling tagraggery of
Croats, whom it had been good to quench a little, before going
farther. On the third night, June 7th, he arrived at Pisek;
marched again before daybreak, leaving a garrison of 1,200,--who
surrendered to Prince Karl next day, without shot fired.
Broglio tumbling on abead, double-quick, with the tagraggery of
Croats continually worrying at his heels, baggage-wagons sticking
fast, country people massacring all stragglers, panted home to Prag
on the 13th; with 'the Gross of the Army saved, don't you observe!'
And thinks it an excellent retreat, he if no one-else.
[<italic> Guerre de Boheme, <end italic> ii. 122, &c.; <italic>
Campagnes, <end italic> v. 167 (his own Despatch).]

"At Pisek, Prince Karl has ceased chasing with his regulars, the
pace being so uncommonly swift. From Pisek, Prince Karl struck off
towards Pilsen, there to intercept a residue of Harcourt
reinforcements who were coming that way: from Broglio, who knew of
it, but in such flurry could not mind it, he had no hindrance; and
it was by good luck, not management of Broglio's, that these poor
reinforcements did in part get through to him, and in part seek
refuge in Eger again. Broglio has encamped under the walls of Prag;
in a ruinous though still blusterous condition; his positions all
gone; except Prag and Eger, nothing in Bohemia now his."

PRAG, 17th JUNE-17th AUGUST. "It is in this condition that
Belleisle, returning from the Kuttenberg-Dresden mission (June
15th), finds his Broglio. Most disastrous, Belleisle thinks it;
and nothing but a Siege in Prag lying ahead; though Broglio is of
different opinion, or, blustering about his late miraculous
retreat, and other high merits too little recognized, forms no
opinion at all on such extraneous points. ... From Versailles, they
had auswered Belleisle: 'Nothing to be made of Dresden either, say
you? Then go you and take the command at Prag; send Broglio to
command the Bavarian Army. See, you, what can be done by fighting.'
On this errand Belleisle is come, the heavy-laden man, and Valori
with him,--if, in this black crisis, Valori could do anything.
Valori at least reports the colloquy the Two Marshals had [one bit
of colloquy, for they had more than one, though as few as possible;
Broglio being altogether blusterous, sulphurous, difficult to speak
with on polite terms]. [Valori, i. 162-166; <italic> Campagnes,
<end italic> v. 170, 124, &c. &c.] 'Army of Bavaria?' answers
Broglio; 'I will have those Ten Battalions of the D'Harcourt
reinforcement, then. I tell you, Yes! Prag? Prag may go to the--
What have I to do with Prag? The oldest Marechal of France,
superseded, after such merits, and on the very heel of such a
retreat! Nay, but where is YOUR commission to command in Prag,
M. le Marechal?' Belleisle, in the haste there was, has no
Commission rightly drawn out by the War-office; only an Order from
Court. '_I_ have a regular commission, Monseigneur: I want a Sign-
manual before laying it down!' The unreasonable Broglio.

"Belleisle, tormented with rheumatic nerves, and of violent temper
at any rate, compresses the immense waste rage that is in him.
His answers to Broglio are calm and low-voiced; admirable to
Valori. One thing he wished to ascertain definitely: What M. de
Broglio's intentions were; and whether he would, or would not, go
to Bavaria and take charge there? If so, he shall have all the
Cavalry for escort; Cavalry, unless it be dragoons, will only eat
victual in case of siege.--No, Broglio will not go with Cavalry;
must have those Ten Battalions, must have Sign-manual; won't, in
short!"--Will stay, then, thinks Belleisle; and one must try to
drive him, as men do pigs, covertly and by the rule of contraries,
while Prag falls under Siege.

What an outlook for his Most Christian Majesty's service,--fatal
altogether, had not Belleisle been a high man, and willing to
undertake pig-driving! ... "Discouragement in the Army is total,
were it not for Belleisle; anger against Broglio very great.
The Officers declare openly, 'We will quit, if Broglio continue
General! Our commissions were made out in the name of Marechal de
Belleisle [in the spring of last Year, when he had such levees,
more crowded than the King's!]--we are not bound to serve another
General!'--'You recognize ME for your General?' asks Belleisle.
'Yes!'--'Then, I bid you obey M. de Broglio, so long as he is
here.' [Valori, i. 166.] ...

"JUNE 27th. The Grand-Duke, Maria Theresa's Husband, come from
Vienna to take command-in-chief, joins the Austrian main Army and
his Brother Karl, this day: at Konigsaal, one march to the south of
Prag. Friedrich being now off their hands, why should not they
besiege Prag, capture Prag! Under Khevenhullcr, with Barenklau, and
the Mentzels, Trencks,--poor D'Harcourt merely storing victual,--
Bavaria lies safe enough. And the Oriflamme caged in Prag:--Have at
the Oriflamme!

"Prag is begirdled, straitened more and more, from this day.
Formal Siege to begin, so soon 'as the artillery can come up' which is not for seven weeks yet]. And so, in fine, 'AUGUST 17th, all at
once,' furious bombardment bursts out, from 36 mortars and above
100 big guns, disposed in batteries around. [<italic> Guerre de
Boheme, <end italic> ii. 149, 170.] To which the French,
Belleisle's high soul animating everything, as furiously responded;
making continual sallies of a hot desperate nature; especially, on
the fifth day of the siege, one sally [to be mentioned by and by]
which was very famous at Prag and at Paris." ...


War in Italy--the Spanish Termagant very high in her Anti-Pragmatic
notions--there had been, for eight months past; and it went on,
fiercely enough, doggedly enough, on both sides for Six Years more,
till 1748, when the general Finis came. War of which we propose to
say almost nothing; but must request the reader to imagine it, all
along, as influential on our specific affairs.

The Spanish Termagant wished ardently to have the Milanese and
pertinents, as an Apanage for her second Infant, Don Philip; a
young gentleman who now needs to be provided for, as Don Carlos had
once done. "Cannot get to be Pope this one, it appears," said the
fond Mother (who at one time looked that way for her Infant,):
"Well, here is the Milanese fallen loose!" Readers know her for a
lady of many claims, of illimitable aspirations; and she went very
high on the Pragmatic Question. "Headship of the Golden Fleece,
Madam; YOU head of it? I say all Austria, German and Italian, is
mine!"--though she has now magnanimously given up the German part
to Kaiser Karl VII.; and will be content with the Italian, as an
Apanage for Don Philip. And so there is War in Italy, and will be.
To be imagined by us henceforth.

A War in which these Three Elements are noticeable as the chief.
FIRST, the Sardinian Majesty, [Charles Emanuel, Victor Amadeus's
Son (Hubner, t. 293): born 27th April, 1701; lived and reigned till
19th February, 1773 (OErtel, t. 77).] who is very anxious himself
for Milanese parings and additaments; but, except by skilfully
playing off-and-on between the French side and the Austrian, has no
chance of getting any. For Spain he is able to fight; and also (on
good British Subsidies) against Spain. Element SECOND is the
British Navy, cruising always between Spain and the Seat of War;
rendering supplies by sea impossible,--almost impossible.
THIRD, the Passes of Savoy; wild Alpine chasms, stone-labyrinths;
inexpugnable, with a Sardinian Majesty defending; which are the one
remaining road, for Armies and Supplies, out of Spain or France.

The Savoy Passes are, in fact, the gist of the War; the insoluble
problem for Don Philip and the French. By detours, by circuitous
effort and happy accident, your troops may occasionally squeeze
through: but without one secure road open behind them for supplies
and recruitments, what good is it? Battles there are, behind the
Alps, on what we may call the STAGE itself of this Italian War-
theatre; but the grand steady battle is that of France and Don
Philip, struggling spasmodically, year after year, to get a road
through the COULISSES or side-scenes,--namely, those Savoy Passes.
They try it by this Pass and by that; Pass of Demont, Pass of
Villa-Franca or Montalban (glorious for France, but futile), Pass
of Exilles or Col d'Assiette (again glorious, again futile and
fatal);  sometimes by the way of Nice itself, and rocky mule-tracks
overhanging the sea-edge (British Naval-cannon playing on them);--
and can by no way do it.

There were fine fightings, in the interior too, under Generals of
mark; General Browne doing feats, excellent old General
Feldmarschall Traun, of whom we shall hear; Maillebois, Belleisle
the Younger, of whom we have heard. There was Battle of Campo-
Santo, new battle there (Traun's); there was Battle of Rottofreddo;
of Piacenza (doleful to Maillebois),--followed by Invasion of
Provence, by Revolt of Genoa and other things: which all readers
have now forgotten. [Two elaborate works on the subject are said to
be instructive to military readers: Buonamici (who was in it, for a
while). <italic> De Bello Italico Commentarii <end italic> (in
Works of Buonamici, Lyon, 1750); and Pezay, <italic> Campagnes de
Maillebois <end italic> (our Westphalian friend again) <italic> en
Italie, <end italic> 1745-1746 (Paris, 1775).] Readers are to
imagine this Italian War, all along, as a fact very loud and real
at that time, and continually pulsing over into our German Events
(like half-audible thunder below the horizon, into raging thunder
above), little as we can afford to say of it here. One small Scene
from this Italian War;--one, or with difficulty two;--and if
possible be silent about all the rest:


... "The Spanish Court, that is, Termagant Elizabeth, who rules
everybody there, being in this humor, was passionate to begin;
and stood ready a good while, indignantly champing the bit, before
the sad preliminary obstacles could be got over. At Barcelona she
had, in the course of last summer, doubly busy ever since Mollwitz
time, got into equipment some 15,000 men; but could not by any
method get them across,--owing to the British Fleets, which hung
blockading this place and that; blockading Cadiz especially, where
lay her Transport-ships and War-ships, at this interesting
juncture. Fleury's cunctations were disgusting to the ardent mind;
and here now, still more insuperable, are the British Fleets;
here--and a pest to him!--is your Admiral Haddock, blockading
Cadiz, with his Seventy-fours!

"But again, on the other or Pragmatic side, there were cunctations.
The Sardinian Majesty, Charles Emanuel of Savoy, holding the door
of the Alps, was difficult to bargain with, in spite of British
Subsidies;--stood out for higher door-fees, a larger slice of the
Milanese than could be granted him; had always one ear open for
France, too; in short, was tedious and capricious, and there seemed
no bringing him to the point of drawing sword for her Hungarian
Majesty. In the end, he was brought to it, by a stroke of British
Art,--such to the admiring Gazetteer and Diplomatic mind it
seemed;--equal to anything we have since heard of, on the part of
perfidious Albion.

"One day, 'middle of October last,' the Seventy-fours of Haddock
and perfidious Albion,--Spanish official persons, looking out from
Cadiz Light-house, ask themselves, 'Where are they? Vanished from
these waters; not a Seventy-four of them to be seen!'--Have got
foul in the underworks, or otherwise some blunder has happened;
and the blockading Fleet of perfidious Albion has had to quit its
post, and run to Gibraltar to refit. That, I guess, was the
Machiavellian stroke of Art they had done; without investigating
Haddock and Company [as indignant Honorable Members did], I will
wager, That and nothing more!

"In any case, the Termagant, finding no Seventy-fours there, and
the wind good, despatches swiftly her Transports and War-ships to
Barcelona; swiftly embarks there her 15,000, France cautiously
assisting; and lands them complete, 'by the middle of December,'
Haddock feebly opposing, on the Genoa coast: 'Have at the Milanese,
my men!' Which obliges Charles Emanuel to end his cunctations, and
rank at once in defence of that Country, [Adelung, ii. 535, 538
(who believes in the "stroke of art"): what kind of "art" it was,
learn sufficiently in <italic> Gentleman's Magazine, <end italic>
&c. of those months.] lest he get no share of it whatever. And so
the game began. Europe admired, with a shudder, the refined stroke
of art; for in cunning they equal Beelzebub, those perfidious
Islanders;--and are always at it; hence their greatness in the
world. Imitate them, ye Peoples, if you also would grow great.
That is our Gazetteer Evangel, in this late epoch of
Man's History." ...

OTHER SCENE, BAY OF NAPLES, 19th~20th August, 1742: KING OF TWO  

Readers will transport themselves to the Bay of Naples, and
beautiful Vesuvian scenery seen from sea. The English-Spanish War,
it would appear, is not quite dead, nor carried on by Jenkins and
the Wapping people alone. Here in this Bay it blazes out into
something of memorability; and gives lively sign of its existence,
among the other troubles of the world.

"SUNDAY, AUGUST 19th, Commodore Martin, who had arrived overnight,
appears in the Bay, with due modicum of seventy-fours, 'dursley
galleys,' bomb-vessels, on an errand from his Admiral [one
Matthews] and the Britannic Majesty, much to the astonishment of
Naples. Commodore Martin hovers about, all morning, and at 4 P.M.
drops anchor,--within shot of the place, fearfully near;--and
therefrom sends ashore a Message: 'That his Sicilian Majesty [Baby
Carlos, our notable old friend, who is said to be a sovereign of
merit otherwise], has not been neutral, in this Italian War, as his
engagements bore; but has joined his force to that of the
Spaniards, declared enemies of his Britannic Majesty; which rash
step his Britannic Majesty hereby requires him to retract, if
painful consequences are not at once to ensue!' That is Martin's
message; to which he stands doggedly, without variation, in the
extreme flutter and multifarious reasoning of the poor Court of
Naples: 'Recall your 20,000 men, and keep them recalled,' persists
Martin; and furthermore at last, as the reasoning threatens to get
lengthy: 'Your answer is required within one hour,'--and lays his
watch on the Cabin-table.

"The Court, thrown into transcendent tremor, with no resource but
either to be burnt or comply, answers within the hour: 'Yes: in all
points.' Some eight hours or so of reasoning: deep in the night of
Sunday, it is all over; everything preparing to get signed and
sealed; ships making ready to sail again;--and on Tuesday at
sunrise, there is no Martin there. Martin, to the last top-gallant,
has vanished clean over the horizon; never to be seen again, though
long remembered. [Tindal's <italic> Rapin, <end italic> xx. 572
(MISdates, and is altogether indistinct); <italic> Gentleman's
Magazine, <end italic> xii. 494:--CAME, "Sunday morning, 19th
August, n.s.;" "anchored abont 4 p.m.;" "2 a.m. of 20th" all
agreed; King Carlos's LETTER is GOT, ships prepared for sailing;--
sail that night, and to-morrow, 21st, are out of sight.]
One wonders, Were Pipes and Hatchway perhaps there, in Martin's
squadron? In what station Commodore Trunnion did then serve in the
British Navy? Vanished ghosts of grim mute sea-kings, there is no
record of them but what is itself a kind of ghost! Ghost, or
symbolical phantasm, from the brain of that Tobias Smollett;
an assistant Surgeon, who served in the body along with them, his
singular value altogether unknown."--King Carlos's Neutrality,
obtained in this manner, lasted for a year-and-half; a sensible
alleviation to her Hungarian Majesty for the time. We here quit the
Italian War; leaving it to the reader's fancy, on the above terms.


"PRAG, 22d AUGUST. In the same hours, while Martin lay coercing
Naples, the Army of the Oriflamme in Prag City was engaged in
'furious sallies;'"--readers may divine what that means for Prag
and the Oriflamme!

"Prag is begirdled, bombarded from all the Wischerads, Ziscabergs
and Hill environments; every avenue blocked, 'above 60,000
Austrians round it, near 40,000 of them regulars:' a place
difficult to defend; but with excellent arrangements for defence on
Belleisle's part, and the garrison with its blood up.
Garrison makes continual furious sallies,--which are eminently
successful, say the French Newspapers; but which end, as all
sallies do, in returning home again, without conquest, except of
honor;--and on this Wednesday, 22d August, comes out with the
greatest sally of all. [<italic> Campagnes, <end italic> vi. 5;
<italic> Guerre de Boheme, <end italic> ii. 173.] While Commodore
Martin, many a Pipes and Hatchway standing grimly on the watch
unknown to us, is steering towards Matthews and the Toulon waters
again. The equal sun looking down on all.

"It was about twelve o'clock, when this Prag sally, now all in
order, broke out, several thousand strong, and all at the white
heat, now a constant temperature. Sally almost equal to that
Pharsalia of a Sahay, it would seem;--concerning which we can spend
no word in this brief summary. Fierce fighting, fiery irresistible
onslaught; but it went too far, lost all its captured cannon again;
and returned only with laurels and a heavy account of killed and
wounded,--the leader of it being himself carried home in a very
bleeding state. 'Oh, the incomparable troops!' cried Paris;--cried
Voltaire withal (as I gather), and in very high company, in that
Visit at Aachen. A sally glorious, but useless.

"The Imperial Generals were just sitting down to dinner, when it
broke out; had intended a Council of War, over their wine, in the
Grand-Duke's tent: 'What, won't they let us have our dinner!' cried
Prince Karl, in petulant humor, struggling to be mirthful.
He rather likes his dinner, this Prince Karl, I am told, and does
not object to his wine: otherwise a hearty, talky, free-and-easy
Prince,--'black shallow-set eyes, face red, and much marked with
small-pox.' Clapping on his hat, faculties sharpened by hunger and
impatience, let him do his best, for several hours to come, till
the sally abate and go its ways again. Leaving its cannon, and
trophies. No sally could hope to rout 60,000 men; this furious
sally, almost equal to Sahay, had to return home again, on the
above terms. Upon which Prince Karl and the others got some snatch
of dinner; and the inexorable pressure of Siege, tightening itself
closer and closer, went on as before.

"The eyes of all Europe are turned towards Prag; a big crisis
clearly preparing itself there. ... France, or aid in France, is
some 500 miles away. In D'Harcourt, merely gathering magazines,
with his Khevenhuller near, is no help; help, not the question
there! The garrison of Eger, 100 miles to west of us, across the
Mountains, barely mans its own works. Other strong post, or support
of any kind in these countries, we have now none. We are 24,000;
and of available resource have the Magazines in Prag, and our own
right hands.

"The flower of the young Nobility had marched in that Oriflamme;--
now standing at bay, they and it, in Prag yonder: French honor
itself seems shut up there! The thought of it agitates bitterly the
days and nights of old Fleury, who is towards ninety now, and
always disliked war. The French public too,--we can fancy what a
public! The young Nobility in Prag has its spokes-men, and spokes-
women, at Versailles, whose complaint waxes louder, shriller;
the whole world, excited by rumor of those furious sallies, is
getting shrill and loud. What can old Fleury do but order
Maillebois: 'Leave Dunkirk to its own luck; march immediately for
relief of Prag!' And Maillebois is already on march; his various
divisions (August 9th-20th) crossing the Rhine, in Dusseldorf
Country;"--of whom we shall hear.

... "Some time before the actual Bombardment, Fleury, seeing it
inevitable, had ordered Belleisle to treat. Belleisle accordingly
had an interview, almost two interviews, with Konigseck.
[<italic> Guerre de Boheme, ii. 156 ("2d July" the actual
interview); ib. 161 (the corollary to it, confirmatory of it, which
passed by letters).] 'Liberty to march home, and equitable Peace-
Negotiations in the rear?' proposed Belleisle. 'Absolute surrender;
Prisoners of War!' answered Konigseck; 'such is her Hungarian
Majesty's positive order and ultimatum.' The high Belleisle
responded nothing unpolite; merely some, 'ALORS, MONSIEUR--!'
And rode back to Prag, with a spirit all in white heat;--gradually
heating all the 24,000 white, and keeping them so.

"In fact, Belleisle, a high-flown lion reduced to silence and now
standing at bay, much distinguishes himself in this Siege;
which, for his sake, is still worth a moment's memory from mankind.
He gathers himself into iron stoicism, into concentration of
endeavor; suffers all things, Broglio's domineering in the first
place; as if his own thin skin were that of a rhinoceros; and is
prepared to dare all things. Like an excellent soldier, like an
excellent citizen. He contrives, arranges; leads, covertly drives
the domineering Broglio, by rule of contraries or otherwise,
according to the nature of the beast; animates all men by his
laconic words; by his silences, which are still more emphatic. ...
Sechelles, provident of the future, has laid in immense supplies of
indifferent biscuit; beef was not attainable: Belleisle dismounts
his 4,000 cavalry, all but 400 dragoons; slaughters 160 horses per
day, and boils the same by way of butcher's-meat, to keep the
soldier in heart. It is his own fare, and Broglio's, to serve as
example. At Broglio's quarter, there is a kind of ordinary of
horse-flesh: Officers come in, silent speed looking through their
eyes; cut a morsel of the boiled provender, break a bad biscuit,
pour one glass of indifferent wine; and eat, hardly sitting the
while, in such haste to be at the ramparts again. The 80,000
Townsfolk, except some Jews, are against them to a man.
Belleisle cares for everything: there is strict charge on his
soldiers to observe discipline, observe civility to the Townsfolk;
there is occasional 'hanging of a Prag Butcher' or so, convicted of
spyship, but the minimum of that, we will hope."

(August 9th-September 19th).

Maillebois has some 40,000 men: ahead of him 600 miles of difficult
way; rainy season come, days shortening; uncertain staff of bread
("Seckendorf's meal," and what other commissariat there may be):
a difficult march, to Amberg Country and the top of the Ober-Pfalz.
After which are Mountain-passes; Bohemian Forest: and the Event--?
"Cannot be dubious!" thinks France, whatever Maillebois think.
Witty Paris, loving its timely joke, calls him Army of Redemption,
"L'ARMEE DES MATHURINS,"--a kind of Priests, whose business is
commonly in Barbary, about Christian bondage:--how sprightly!
And yet the enthusiasm was great: young Princes of the Blood
longing to be off as volunteers, needing strict prohibition by the
King;--upon which, Prince de Conti, gallant young fellow, leaving
his wife, his mistress, and miraculously borrowing 2,500 pounds for
equipments, rushed off furtively by post; and did join, and do his
best. Was reprimanded, clapt in arrest for three days;
but afterwards promoted; and came to some distinction in these
Wars. [Barbier, ii. 326 (that of Conti, ib. 331); Adelung, &c.]

The March goes continually southeast; by Frankfurt, thence towards
Nurnberg Country ("be at Furth, September 6th"), and the skirts of
the Pine-Mountains (FICHTEL-GEBIRGE),--Anspach and Baireuth well to
your left;--end, lastly, in the OBER-PFALZ (Upper Palatinate), Town
of Amberg there. Before trying the Bohemian Passes, you shall have
reinforcement. Best part of the "Bavarian Army," now under Comte de
Saxe, not under D'Harcourt farther, is to cease collecting victual
in the Donau-Iser Countries (Deggendorf, north bank of Donau, its
head-quarter); and to get on march,--circling very wide, not
northward, but by the Donan, and even by the SOUTH, bank of it
mainly (to avoid the hungry Mountains and their Tolpatcheries),
--and, at Amberg, is to join Maillebois. This is a wide-lying game.
The great Marlborough used to play such, and win; making the wide
elements, the times and the spaces, hit with exactitude: but a
Maillebois? "He is called by the Parisians, 'VIEUX PETIT-MAITRE
(dandy of sixty,' so to speak); has a poor upturned nose, with
baboon-face to match, which he even helps by paint." ... Here is
one Scene; at Frankfurt-on-Mayn; fact certain, day not given.

FRANKFURT, "LATTER END OF AUGUST," 1742. "At Frankfurt, his Army
having got into the neighborhood,"--not into Frankfurt itself,
which, as a REICHS-STADT, is sacred from Armies and their
marchings,--"Marechal de Maillebois, as in duty bound, waited on
the Kaiser to pay his compliments there: on which occasion, we
regret to say, Marechal de Maillebois was not so reverent to the
Imperial Majesty as he should have been. Angry belike at the
Adventure now forced on him, and harassed with many things;
seeing in the Imperial Majesty little but an unfortunate Play-actor
Majesty, who lives in furnished lodgings paid for by France, and
gives France and Maillebois an infinite deal of trouble to little
purpose. Certain it is, he addressed the Imperial Majesty in the
most free-and-easy manner; very much the reverse of being dashed by
the sacred Presence: and his Officers in the ante-chamber, crowding
about, all day, for presentation to the Imperial Majesty, made a
noise, and kept up a babble of talk and laughter, as if it had been
a mess-room, instead of the Forecourt of Imperial Majesty. So that
Imperial Majesty, barely master of its temper and able to finish
without explosion, signified to Maillebois on the morrow, That
henceforth it would dispense with such visits, Poor Imperial
Majesty; a human creature doing Play-actorisms of too high a
flight. He had the finest Palace in Germany; a wonder to the Great
Gustavus long ago: and now he has it not; mere Meutzels and horrent
shaggy creatures rule in Munchen and it: and the Imperial quasi-
furnished lodgings are respected in this manner!" [Van Loon,
<italic> Kleine Schriften, <end italic> ii. 271 (cited in Buchholz,
ii. 71). CAMPAGNES is silent; usually suppressing scenes of that
kind.]--The wits say of him, "He would be Kaiser or Nothing: see
you, he is Kaiser and Nothing!" [<italic> "Aut nihil aut Caesar,
Bavarus Dux esse volebat; Et nihil et Caesar factus utrumque
simul." <end italic> (Barbier, ii. 322.)] ...

AUGUST 19th-SEPTEMBER 14th. "Comte de Saxe is on march, from
Deggendorf; north bank of the Donau, by narrow mountain roads;
then crosses the Donau to south bank, and a plain country;--making
large circuit, keeping the River on his right,--to meet Maillebois
at Amberg; his force, some 10 or 12,000 men. Seckendorf, now
Bavarian Commander-in-chief, accompanies Saxe; with considerable
Bavarian force, guess 20,000, 'marching always on the left.'
Accompanies; but only to Regensburg, to Stadt-am-Hof, a Suburb of
Regensburg, where they cross the Donau again."--SUBURB of
Regensburg, mark that; Regensburg itself being a Reichs-Stadt, very
particularly sacred from War;--the very Reichs-DIET commonly
sitting here; though it has gone to Frankfurt lately, to be with
its Kaiser, and out of these continual trumpetings and tumults
close by. [Went 10th May, 1742,--after three months' arguing and
protesting on the Austrian part (Adelung, iii. A, 102, 138).]--
"At Regensburg, once across, Seckendorf with his Bavarians calls
halt; plants himself down in Kelheim, Ingolstadt, and the safe
Garrisons thereabouts,--calculates that, if Khevenhuller should be
called away Prag-ward, there may be a stroke do-able in these
parts. Saxe marches on; straight northward now, up the Valley of
the Naab; obliged to be a good deal on his guard. Mischievous
Tolpatcheries and Trencks, ever since he crossed the Donau again,
have escorted him, to right, as close as they durst; dashing out
sometimes on the magazines." One of the exploits they had done,
take only one:--in their road TOWARDS Saxe, a few days ago:--

... "SEPTEMBER 7th, Trenck with his Tolpatcheries had appeared at
Cham,--a fine trading Town on the hither or neutral side of the
mountains [not in Bohmen, but in Ober-Pfalz, old Kur-Pfalz's
country, whom the Austrians hate];--and summoning and assaulting
Cham, over the throat of all law, had by fire and by massacre
annihilated the same. [Adelung, iii A, 258; <italic> Guerre de
Boheme; <end italic> &c.] Fact horrible, nearly incredible;
but true. The noise of which is now loud everywhere. Less lovely
individual than this Trenck [Pandour Trenck, Cousin of the Prussian
one,] there was not, since the days of Attila and Genghis, in any
War. Blusters abominably, too; has written [save the mark!] an
'AUTOBIOGRAPHY,'--having happily afterwards, in Prison and even in
Bedlam, time for such a Work;--which is stuffed with sanguinary
lies and exaggerations: unbeautifulest of human souls. Has a face
the color of indigo, too;--got it, plundering in an Apothecary's
[in this same country, if I recollect]: 'ACH GOTT, your Grace,
nothing of money here!' said the poor Apothecary, accompanying
Colonel Trenck with a lighted candle over house and shop.
Trenck, noticing one likely thing, snatched the candle, held it
nearer:--likely thing proved gunpowder; and Trenck, till Doomsday,
continues deep blue. [<italic> Guerre de Boheme. <end italic>]
Soul more worthy of damnation I have seldom known."

"SEPTEMBER 19th (five days after dropping Seckendorf), Saxe
actually gets joined with Maillebois;--not quite at Amberg, but at
Vohenstrauss, in that same Sulzbach Country, a forty miles to
eastward, or Prag-ward, of Amberg. Maillebois and he conjoined are
between 50 and 60,000. They are got now to the Bohemian Boundary,
edge of the Bohemian Forest (big BOHMISCHE WALD, Mountainous woody
Country, 70 miles long); they are within 60 miles of Pilsen, within
100 of Prag itself,--if they can cross the Forest. Which may
be diflicult."


"SEPTEMBER llth, the Besieged at Prag notice that the Austrian fire
slackens; that the Enemy seems to be taking away his guns.
Villages and Farmsteads, far and wide all round, are going up in
fire. A joyful symptom:--since August 13th, Belleisle has known of
Maillebois's advent; guesses that the Austrians now know it.--
SEPTEMBER 14th, their Firing has quite ceased. Grand-Duke and
Prince Karl are off to meet this Maillebois, amid the intricate
defiles, 'Better meet him there than here:'--and on this fourth
morning, Belleisle, looking out, perceives that the Siege is
raised. [Espagnac, i. 145; <italic> Campagnes, <end italic>
v. 348.]

"A blessed change indeed. No enemy here,--perhaps some Festititz,
with his canaille of Tolpatches, still lingering about,--no enemy
worth mention. Parties go out freely to investigate:--but as to
forage? Alas, a Country burnt, Villages black and silent for ten
miles round;--you pick up here and there a lean steer, welcome amid
boiled horse-flesh; you bundle a load or two of neglected grass
together, for what cavalry remains. The genius of Sechelles, and
help from the Saxon side, will be much useful!

"Perhaps the undeniablest advantage of any is this, That Broglio,
not now so proud of the situation Prag is in, or led by the rule of
contraries, willingly quits Prag: Belleisle will not have to do his
function by the medium of pig-driving, but in the direct manner
henceforth. 'Give me 6 or 8,000 foot, and what of the cavalry have
horses still uneaten,' proposes Broglio; 'I will push obliquely
towards Eger,--which is towards Saxony withal, and opens our food-
communications there:--I will stretch out a hand to Maillebois,
across the Mountain Passes; and thus bring a victorious issue!'
[Espagnac, i. 170.] Belleisle consents: 'Well, since my Broglio
will have it so!'--glad to part with my Broglio at any rate,--
'Adieu, then, M. le Marechal (and,' SOTTO VOCE, 'may it be long
before we meet again in partnership)!' Broglio marches accordingly
('hand' beautifully held out to Maillebois, but NOT within grasping
distance); gets northwestward some 60 miles, as far as Toplitz
[sadly oblique for Eger],--never farther on that errand."


"SEPTEMBER 19th-OCTOBER 10th,,'--Scene is, the Eger-VohenStrauss
Country, in and about that Bohemian Forest of seventy miles.--
"For three weeks, Maillebois and the Comte de Saxe, trying their
utmost, cannot, or cannot to purpose, get through that Bohemian
Wood. Only Three practicable Passes in it; difficult each, and each
conducting you towards more new difficulties, on the farther side;
--not surmountable except by the determined mind. A gloomy
business: a gloomy difficult region, solitary, hungry; nothing in
it but shaggy chasms (and perhaps Tolpatchery lurking), wastes,
mountain woodlands, dumb trees, damp brown leaves. Maillebois and
Saxe, after survey, shoot leftwards to Eger; draw food and
reinforcement from the Garrison there. They do get through the
Forest, at one Pass, the Pass nearest Eger;--but find Prince Karl
and the Grand-Duke ranked to receive them on the other side.
'Plunge home upon Prince Karl and the Grand-Duke; beat them, with
your Broglio to help in the rear?' That possibly was Friedrich's
thought as he watched [now home at Berlin again] the
contemporaneous Theatre of War.

"But that was not the Maillebois-Broglio method;--nay, it is said
Maillebois was privately forbidden 'to run risks.' Broglio, with
his stretched-out hand (12,000 some count him, and indeed it is no
matter), sits quiet at Toplitz, far too oblique: 'Come then, come,
O Maillebois!' Maillebois,--manoeuvring Prince Karl aside, or
Hunger doing it for him,--did once push forward Prag-ward, by the
Pass of Caaden; which is very oblique to Toplitz. By the Pass of
Caaden,--down the Eger River, through those Mountains of the Circle
of Saatz, past a Castle of Ellenbogen, key of the same;--and 'Could
have done it [he said always after], had it not been for Comte de
Saxe!' Undeniable it is, Saxe, as vanguard, took that Castle of
Ellenbogen; and, time being so precious, gave the Tolpatchery
dismissal on parole. Undeniable, too, the Tolpatchery, careless of
parole, beset Caaden Village thereupon, 4,000 strong; cut off our
foreposts, at Caaden Village; and-- In short, we had to retire from
those parts; and prove an Army of Redemption that could not redeem
at all!

"Maillebois and Saxe wend sulkily down the Naab Valley (having
lost, say 15,000, not by fighting, but by mud and hardship);
and the rapt European Public (shilling-gallery especially) says,
with a sneer on its face, 'Pooh; ended, then!' Sulkily wending,
Maillebois and Saxe (October 30th-November 7th) get across the
Donau, safe on the southern bank again; march for the Iser Country
and the D'Harcourt Magazines,--and become 'Grand Bavarian Army,'
usual refuge of the unlucky." ...

OF SECKENDORF IN THE INTERIM. "For Belleisle and relief of Prag,
Maillebois in person had proved futile; but to Seckendorf, waiting
with his Bavarians, the shadow and rumor of Maillebois had brought
famous results,--famous for a few weeks. Khevenhuller being called
north to help in those Anti-Maillebois operations, and only
Barenklau with about 10,000 Austrians now remaining in Baiern,
Seckendorf, clearly superior (not to speak of that remnant of
D'Harcourt people, with their magazines), promptly bestirred
himself, in the Kelheim-Ingolstadt Country; got on march; and drove
the Austrians mostly out of Baiern. Out mostly, and without stroke
of sword, merely by marching; out for the time. Munchen was
evacuated, on rumor of Seckendorf (October 4th): a glad City to see
Barenklau march off. Much was evacuated,--the Iser Valley, down
partly to the Inn Valley,--much was cleared, by Seckendorf in these
happy circumstances. Who sees himself victorious, for once; and has
his fame in the Gazettes, if it would last. Pretty much without
stroke of sword, we say, and merely by marching: in one place,
having marched too close, the retreating Barenklau people turned on
him, 'took 100 prisoners' before going; [Espagnac, i. 166.]--other
fighting, in this line 'Reconquest of Bavaria,' I do not recollect.
Winter come, he makes for Maillebois and the Iser Countries;
cantons himself on the Upper Inn itself, well in advance of the
French [Braunau his chief strong-place, if readers care to look on
the Map]; and strives to expect a combined seizure of Passau, and
considerable things, were Spring come." ...

AND OF BROGLIO IN THE INTERIM. "As for Broglio, left alone at
Toplitz, gazing after a futile Maillebois, he sends the better half
of his Force back to Prag; other half he establishes at Leitmeritz:
good halfway-house to Dresden. 'Will forward Saxon provender to
you, M. de Belleisle!' (never did, and were all taken prisoners
some weeks hence). Which settled, Broglio proceeded to the Saxon
Court; who answered him: 'Provender? Alas, Monseigneur! We are (to
confess it to you!) at Peace with Austria: [Treatying ever since
"July 17th;" Treaty actually done, "11th September" (Adelung, iii.
A, 201, 268).] not an ounce of provender possible; how dare we?'--
but were otherwise politeness itself to the great Broglio.
Great Broglio, after sumptuous entertainments there, takes the road
for Baiern; circling grandly "through Nurnberg with escort of 500
Horse') to Maillebois's new quarters;--takes command of the
'Bavarian Army' (may it be lucky for him!); and sends Maillebois
home, in deep dudgeon, to the merciless criticisms of men.
'Could have done it,' persists the VIEUX PETIT-MAITRE always, 'had
not'--one knows what, but cares not, at this date!--

"Broglio's quarters in the Iser Country, I am told, are fatally too
crowded, men perishing at a frightful rate per day. [Espagnac,
i. 182.] 'Things all awry here,--thanks to that Maillebois and
others!' And Broglio's troubles and procedures, as is everywhere
usual to Broglio, run to a great height in this Bavarian Command.
And poor Seckendorf, in neighborhood of such a Broglio, has his
adoes; eyes sparkling; face blushing slate-color; at times nearly
driven out of his wits;--but strives to consume his own smoke, and
to have hopes on Passau notwithstanding."--And of Belleisle in
Prag, and his meditations on the Oriflamme?--Patience, reader.

Meantime, what a relief to Kaiser Karl, in such wreck of Bohemian
Kingdoms and Castles in Spain, to have got his own Munchen and
Country in hand again; with the prospect of quitting furnished-
lodgings, and seeing the color of real money! April next, he
actually goes to Munchen, where we catch a glimpse of him.
["17th April, 1743," Montijos &c. accompanying (Adelung, iii. B,
119, 120).] This same October, the Reich, after endless debatings
on the question, "Help our Kaiser, or not help?" [Ib. iii A, 289.]
has voted him fifty ROMER-MONATE ("Romish-months," still so termed,
though there is NOT now any marching of the Kaiser to Rome on
business); meaning fifty of the known QUOTAS, due from all and
sundry in such case,--which would amount to about 300,000 pounds
(could it, or the half of it, be collected from so wide a Parish),
and would prove a sensible relief to the poor man.


King Priedrich had come to the Baths of Aachen, August 25th;
the Maillebois Army of Redemption being then, to the last man of
it, five days across the Rhine on its high errand, which has since
proved futile. Friedrich left Aachen, taking leave of his Voltaire,
who had been lodging with him for a week by special invitation,
September 9th; and witnessed the later struggles and final
inability of Maillebois to redeem, not at Aix, but at Berlin, amid
the ordinary course of his employments there. We promised something
of Voltaire's new visit, his Third to Friedrich. Here is what
little we have,--if the lively reader will exert his fancy on it.

Voltaire and his Du Chatelet had been to Cirey, and thence been at
Paris through this Spring and Summer, 1742;--engaged in what to
Voltaire and Paris was a great thing, though a pacific one:
The getting of MAHOMET brought upon the boards. August 9th,
precisely while the first vanguard of the Army of Redemption got
across the Rhine at Dusseldorf, Voltaire's Tragedy of MAHOMET came
on the stage.

August 9th, llth, 13th, Paris City was in transports of various
kinds; never were such crowds of Audience, lifting a man to the
immortal gods,--though a part too, majority by count of heads, were
dragging him to Tartarus again. "Exquisite, unparalleled!"
exclaimed good judges (as Fleury himself had anticipated, on
examining the Piece):--"Infamous, irreligious, accursed!"
vociferously exclaimed the bad judges; Reverend Desfontaines (of
Sodom, so Voltaire persists to define him), Reverend Desfontaines
and others giving cue; hugely vociferous, these latter, hugely in
majority by count of heads. And there was such a bellowing and such
a shrieking, judicious Fleury, or Maurepas under him, had to
suggest, "Let an actor fall sick; let M. de Voltaire volunteer to
withdraw his Piece; otherwise--!" And so it had to be: Actor fell
sick on the 14th (Playbills sorry to retract their MAHOMET on the
14th); and--in fact, it was not for nine years coming, and after
Dedication to the Pope, and other exquisite manoeuvres and
unexpected turns of fate, that MAHOMET could be acted a fourth time
in Paris, and thereafter AD LIBITUM down to this day.
[<italic> OEuvres de Voltaire, <end italic> ii. 137 n.; &c. &c.]

Such tempest in a teapot is not unexampled, nay rather is very
frequent, in that Anarchic Republic called of Letters.
Confess, reader, that you too would have needed some patience in
M. de Voltaire's place; with such a Heaven's own Inspiration of a
MAHOMET in your hands, and such a terrestrial Doggery at your
heels. Suppose the bitterest of your barking curs were a Reverend
Desfontaines of Sodom, whom you yourself had saved from the gibbet
once, and again and again from starving? It is positively a great
Anarchy, and Fountain of Anarchies, all that, if you will consider;
and it will have results under the sun. You cannot help it, say
you; there is no shutting up of a Reverend Desfontaines, which
would be so salutary to himself and to us all? No:--and when human
reverence (daily going, in such ways) is quite gone from the world;
and your lowest blockhead and scoundrel (usually one entity) shall
have perfect freedom to spit in the face of your highest sage and
hero,--what a remarkably Free World shall we be!

Voltaire, keeping good silence as to all this, and minded for
Brussels again, receives the King of Prussia's invitation; lays it
at his Eminency Fleury's feet; will not accept, unless his Eminency
and my own King of France (possibly to their advantage, if one
might hint such a thing!) will permit it. [Ib. lxxii. 555 (Letter
to Fleury, "Paris, Aug. 22d").] "By all means; go, and"--The rest
is in dumb-show; meaning, "Try to pump him for us!" Under such
omens, Voltaire and his divine Emilie return to their Honsbruck
Lawsuit: "Silent Brussels, how preferable to Paris and its mad
cries!" Voltaire, leaving the divine Emilie at Brussels, September
2d, sets out for Aix,--Aix attainable within the day. He is back at
Brussels late in the evening, September 9th:--how he had fared, and
what extent of pumping there was, learn from the following
Excerpts, which are all dated the morrow after his return:--


1. TO CIDEVILLE (the Rouen Advocate, who has sometimes troubled
us). ... "I have been to see the King of Prussia since I began this
Letter [beginning of it dates September 1st]. I have courageously
resisted his fine proposals. He offers me a beautiful House in
Berlin, a pretty Estate; but I prefer my second-floor in Madame du
Chatelet's here. He assures me of his favor, of the perfect freedom
I should have;--and I am running to Paris [did not just yet run] to
my slavery and persecution. I could fancy myself a small Athenian,
refusing the bounties of the King of Persia. With this difference,
however, one had liberty [not slavery] at Athens; and I am sure
there were many Cidevilles there, instead of one,"--HELAS,
my Cideville!

2. TO MARQUIS D'ARGENSON (worthy official Gentleman, not War-
Minister now or afterwards; War-Minister's senior brother,--
Voltaire's old school-fellows, both these brothers, in the College
of Louis le Grand). ... "I have just been to see the King of
Prussia in these late days [in fact, quitted him only yesterday;
both of us, after a week together, leaving Aix yesterday]: I have
seen him as one seldom sees Kings,--much at my ease, in my own
room, in the chimney-nook, whither the same man who has gained two
Battles would come and talk familiarly, as Scipio did with Terence.
You will tell me, I am not Terence; true, but neither is he
altogether Scipio.

"I learned some extraordinary things,"--things not from Friedrich
at all: mere dinner-table rumors; about the 16,000 English landing
here ("18,000" he calls them, and farther on, "20,000") with the
other 16,000 PLUS 6,000 of Hanoverian-Hessian sort, expecting
20,000 Dutch to join them,--who perhaps will not? "M. de Neipperg
[Governor of Luxemburg now] is come hither to Brussels; but brings
no Dutch troops with him, as he had hoped,"--Dutch perhaps won't
rise, after all this flogging and hoisting? "Perhaps we may soon
get a useful and glorious Peace, in spite of my Lord Stair, and of
M. van Haren, the Tyrtaeus of the States-General [famed Van Haren,
eyes in a fine Dutch frenzy rolling, whose Cause-of-Liberty verses
let no man inquire after]: Stair prints Memoirs, Van Haren makes
Odes; and with so much prose and so much verse, perhaps their High
and Slow Mightinesses [Excellency Fenelon sleeplessly busy
persuading them, and native Gravitation SLEEPILY ditto] will sit
quiet. God grant it!

"The English want to attack us on our own soil [actually Stair's
plan]; and we cannot pay them in that kind. The match is too
unfair! If we kill the whole 20,000 of them, we merely send 20,000
Heretics to-- What shall I say?--A L'ENFER, and gain nothing;
if they kill us, they even feed at our expense in doing it.
Better have no quarrels except on Locke and Newton! The quarrel I
have on MAHOMET is happily only ridiculous." ... Adieu,
M. le Marquis.

3. TO THE CARDINAL DE FLEURY. "Monseigneur, ... to give your
Eminency, as I am bound, some account of my journey to Aix-la-
Chapelle." Friedrich's guest there; let us hear, let us look.

"I could not get away from Brussels till the 2d of this month.
On the road, I met a courier from the King of Prussia, coming to
reiterate his Master's orders on me. The King had me lodged near
his own Apartment; and he passed, for two consecutive days, four
hours at a time in my room, with all that goodness and familiarity
which forms, as you know, part of his character, and which does not
lower the King's dignity, because one is duly careful not to abuse
it [be careful!]. I had abundant time to speak, with a great deal
of freedom, on what your Eminency had prescribed to me; and the
King spoke to me with an equal frankness.

"First, he asked me, If it was true that the French Nation was so
angered against him; if the King was, and if you were? I answered,"
--mildly reprobatory, yet conciliative, "Hm, no, nothing permanent,
nothing to speak of." "He then deigned to speak to me, at large, of
the reasons which had induced him to be so hasty with the Peace."
"Extremely remarkable reasons;" "dare not trust them to this Paper"
(Broglio-Belleisle discrepancies, we guess, distracted Broglio
procedures);--they have no concern with that Pallandt-Letter Story,
--"they do not turn on the pretended Secret Negotiations at the
Court of Vienna [which are not pretended at all, as I among others
well know], in regard to which your Eminency has condescended to
clear yourself [by denying the truth, poor Eminency; there was no
help otherwise]. All I dare state is, that it seems to me easy to
lead back the mind of this Sovereign, whom the situation of his
Territories, his interest, and his taste would appear to mark as
the natural ally of France."

"He said farther [what may be relied on as true by his Eminency
Fleury, and my readers here], That he passionately wished to see
Bohemia in the Emperor's hands [small chance for it, as things now
go!]; that he renounced, with the best faith in the world, all
claim whatever on Berg and Julich; and that, in spite of the
advantageous proposals which Lord Stair was making him, he thought
only of keeping Silesia. That he knew well enough the House of
Austria would, one day, wish to recover that fine Province, but
that he trusted he could keep his conquest; that he had at this
time 130,000 soldiers always ready; that he would make of Neisse,
Glogau, Brieg, fortresses as strong as Wesel [which he is now
diligently doing, and will soon have done]; that besides he was
well informed the Queen of Hungary already owed 80,000,000 German
crowns, which is about 300 millions of our money [about 12 millions
sterling]; that her Provinces, exhausted, and lying wide apart,
would not be able to make long efforts; and that the Austrians, for
a good while to come, could not of themselves be formidable."
Of themselves, no: but with Britannic soup-royal in quantity?--

"My Lord Hyndford had spoken to him" as if France were entirely
discouraged and done for: How false, Monseigneur! "And Lord Stair
in his letters represented France, a month ago, as ready to give
in. Lord Stair has not ceased to press his Majesty during this Aix
Excursion even:" and, in spite of what your Eminency hears from the
Hague, "there was, on the 30th of August, an Englishman at Aix on
the part of Milord Stair; and he had speech with the King of
Prussia [CROYEZ MOI!] in a little Village called Boschet
[Burtscheid, where are hot wells], a quarter of a league from Aix.
I have been assured, moreover, that the Englishman returned in much
discontent. On the other hand, General Schmettau, who was with the
King [elder Schmettau, Graf SAMUEL, who does a great deal of
envoying for his Majesty], sent, at that very time, to Brussels,
for Maps of the Moselle and of the Three Bishoprics, and purchased
five copies,"--means to examine Milord Stair's proposed Seat of
War, at any rate. (Here is a pleasant friend to have on visit to
you, in the next apartment, with such an eye and such a nose!) ...

"Monseigneur," finely insinuates Voltaire in conclusion, "is not
there" a certain Frenchman, true to his Country, to his King, and
to your Eminency, with perhaps peculiar facilities for being of
use, in such delicate case?--"JE SUIS," much your Eminency's.
[<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> lxxii. p. 568 (to Cideville),
p. 579 (D'Argenson), p. 574 (Fleury).]

Friedrich, on the day while Voltaire at Brussels sat so busy
writing of him, was at Salzdahl, visiting his Brunswick kindred
there, on the road home to his usual affairs. Old Fleury, age
ninety gone, died 29th January, 1743,--five months and nineteen
days after this Letter. War-Minister Breteuil had died January 1st.
Here is room for new Ministers and Ministries; for the two
D'Argensons,--if it could avail their old School-fellow, or France,
or us; which it cannot much.

Chapter III.


Readers were anticipating it, readers have no sympathy;  but the
sad fact is, Britannic Majesty has NOT got out his sword;
this second paroxysm of his proves vain as the first did!
Those laggard Dutch, dead to the Cause of Liberty, it is they
again. Just as the hour was striking, they--plump down, in spite of
magnanimous Stair, into their mud again; cannot be hoisted by
eugineering. And, after all that filling and emptying of water-
casks, and pumping and puffing, and straining of every fibre for a
twelvemonth past, Britannic Majesty had to sit down again, panting
in an Olympian manner, with that expensive long sword of his still
sticking in the scabbard.

Tongue cannot tell what his poor little Majesty has suffered from
those Dutch,--checking one's noble rage, into mere zero, always;
making of one's own glorious Army a mere expensive Phantasm!
Hanoverian, Hessian, British: 40,000 fighters standing in harness,
year after year, at such cost; and not the killing of a French
turkey to be had of them in return. Patience, Olympian patience,
withal! He cantons his troops in the Netherlands Towns; many of the
British about Ghent (who consider the provisions, and customs, none
of the best); [Letters of Officers, from Ghent
(<italic> Westminster Journal, <end italic> Oct. 23d, &c.).] his
Hanoverians, Hessians, farther northward, Hanover way;--and,
greatly daring, determines to try again, next Spring. Carteret
himself shall go and flagitate the Dutch. Patience; whip and
hoist!--What a conclusion, snorts the indignant British Public
through its Gazetteers.

"Next year, yes, exclaims one indignant Editor: 'if talking will do
business, we shall no doubt perform wonders; for we have had as
much talking and puffing since February last, as during any ten
years of the late Administration' [<italic> The Daily Post, <end
italic> December 31st (o.s.), 1742.] [under poor Walpole, whom you
could not enough condemn]! The Dutch? exclaims another: 'If WE were
a Free People [F-- P-- he puts it, joining caution with his rage],
QUOERE, Whether Holland would not, at this juncture, come cap in
hand, to sue for our protection and alliance; instead of making us
dance attendance at the Hague?' Yes, indeed;--and then the CASE OF
THE HANOVER FORCES (fear not, reader; I understand your terror of
locked-jaw, and will never mention said CASE again); but it is
singular to the Gazetteer mind, That these Hanover Forces are to be
paid by England, as appears; Hanover, as if without interest in the
matter, paying nothing! Upon which, in covert form of symbolic
adumbration, of witty parable, what stinging commentaries, not the
first, nor by many thousands the last (very sad reading in our day)
on this paltry Hanover Connection altogether: What immensities it
has cost poor England, and is like to cost, 'the Lord of the Manor'
(great George our King) being the gentleman he is; and how England,
or, as it is adumbratively called, 'the Manor of St. James's,' is
become a mere 'fee-farm to Mumland.' Unendurable to think of.
'Bob Monopoly, the late Tallyman [adumbrative for Walpole, late
Prime Minister], was much blamed on this account; and John the
Carter [John Lord Carteret], Clerk of the Vestry and present
favorite of his Lordship, is not behind Robin in his care for the
Manor of MUMLAND' [In <italic> Westminster Journal <end italic>
(Feb. 12th, n.s., 1743), a long Apologue in this strain.] (that
contemptible Country, where their very beer is called MUM),--and no
remedy within view?"


"And Belleisle in Prag, left solitary there, with his heroic
remnant,--gone now to 17,000, the fourth man of them in hospital,
with Festititz Tolpatchery hovering round, and Winter and Hunger
drawing nigh,--what is to become of Belleisle? Prince Karl and the
Grand-Duke had attended Maillebois to Bavaria; steadily to left of
Maillebois between Austria and him; and are now busy in the Passau
Country, bent on exploding those Seckendorf-Broglio operations and
intentions, as the chief thing now. Meanwhile they have detached
Prince Lobkowitz to girdle in Belleisle again; for which Lobkowitz
(say, 20,000, with the Festititz Tolpatchery included) will be
easily able. On the march thither he easily picked up (18th-25th
November) that new French Post of Leitmeritz (Broglio's fine 'Half-
way House to Saxony and Provender'), with its garrison of 2,000:
the other posts and outposts, one and all, had to hurry home, in
fear of a like fate. Beyond the circuit of Prag, isolated in ten
miles of burnt country, Belleisle has no resource except what his
own head may furnish. The black landscape is getting powdered with
snow; one of the grimmest Winters, almost like that of 1740;
Belleisle must see what he will do.

"Belleisle knows secretly what he will do. Belleisle has orders to
come away from Prag; bring his Army off, and the chivalry of France
home to their afflicted friends. [<italic> Campagnes, <end italic>
vi. 244-251; Espagnac, i. 168.] A thing that would have been so
feasible two months ago, while Maillebois was still wriggling in
the Pass of Caaden; but which now borders on impossibility, if not
reaches into it. As a primary measure, Belleisle keeps those orders
of his rigorously secret. Within the Garrison, or on the part of
Lobkowitz, there is a far other theory of Belleisle's intentions.
Lobkowitz, unable to exist in the black circuit, has retired beyond
it, and taken the eastern side of the Moldau, as the least ruined;
leaving the Tolpatchery, under one Festititz, to caracole round the
black horizon on the west. Farther, as the Moldau is rolling ice,
and Lobkowitz is afraid of his pontoons, he drags them out high and
dry: 'Can be replaced in a day, when wanted.' In a day; yes, thinks
Belleisle, but not in less than a day;--and proceeds now to the
consummation. Detailed accounts exist, Belleisle's own Account
(rapid, exact, loftily modest); here, compressing to the utmost,
let us snatch hastily the main features.

"On the 15th December, 1742, Prag Gates are all shut: Enter if you
like; but no outgate. Monseigneur le Marechal intends to have a
grand foraging to-morrow, on the southwestern side of Prag.
Lobkowitz heard of it, in spite of the shut gates; for all Prag is
against Belleisle, and does spy-work for Lobkowitz. 'Let him
forage,' thought Lobkowitz; 'he will not grow rich by what he
gathers;' and sat still, leaving his pontoons high and dry. So that
Belleisle, on the afternoon of December 16th,--between 12 and
14,000 men, near 4,000 of them cavalry, with cannon, with
provision-wagons, baggage-wagons, goods and chattels in mass,--has
issued through the two Southwestern Gates; and finds himself fairly
out of Prag. On the Pilsen road; about nightfall of the short
winter day: earth all snow and 'VERGLAS,' iron glazed; huge olive-
colored curtains of the Dusk going down upon the Mountains ahead of
him; shutting in a scene wholly grim for Belleisle.
Brigadier Chevert, a distinguished and determined man, with some
4,000 sick, convalescent and half able, is left in Prag to man the
works; the Marechal has taken hostages, twenty Notabilities of
Prag; and neglected no precaution. He means towards Eger; has, at
least, got one march ahead; and will do what is in him, he and
every soul of those 14,000. The officers have given their horses
for the baggage-wagons, made every sacrifice; the word Homewards
kindles a strange fire in all hearts; and the troops, say my French
authorities, are unsurpassable. The Marechal himself, victim of
rheumatisms, cannot ride at all; but has his light sledge always
harnessed; and, at a moment's notice, is present everywhere.
Sleep, during these ten days and nights, he has little.

"Eger is 100 miles off, by the shortest Highway: there are two bad
Highways, one by Pilsen southerly, one by Karlsbad northerly,--with
their bridges all broken, infested by Hussars:--we strike into a
middle combination of country roads, intricate parish lanes;
and march zigzag across these frozen wildernesses: we must dodge
these Festititz Hussar swarms; and cross the rivers near their
springs. Forward! Perhaps some readers, for the high Belleisle's
sake, will look out these localities subjoined in the Note, and
reduced to spelling. [Tachlowitz, Lischon (near Rakonitz); Jechnitz
(as if you were for the Pilsen road; then turn as if for the
Karlsbad one); Steben (not discoverable, but a DESPATCH from
it,--<italic> Campagnes, <end italic> v. 280), Chisch, Luditz,
Theysing (hereabouts you break off into smaller columns, separate
parties and patches, cavalry all ahead, among the Hills): Schonthal
AND Landeck (Belleisle passes Christmas-day at Landeck,--<italic>
Campagnes, <end italic> vii. 10); Einsiedel (AND by Petschau),
Lauterbach, Konigswart, AND likewise by Topl, Sandau, Treunitz
(that is, into Eger from two sides).] Resting-places in this grim
wilderness of his: poor snow-clad Hamlets,--with their little hood
of human smoke rising through the snow; silent all of them, except
for the sound of here and there a flail, or crowing cock;--but have
been awakened from their torpor by this transit of Belleisle.
Happily the bogs themselves are iron; deepest bog will bear.

"Festititz tries us twice,--very anxious to get Belleisle's Army-
chest, or money; we give him torrents of sharp shot instead.
Festititz, these two chief times, we pepper rapidly into the Hills
again; he is reduced to hang prancing on our flanks and rear.
Men bivouac over fires of turf, amid snow, amid frost; tear down,
how greedily, any wood-work for fire. Leave a trumpet to beg
quarter for the frozen and speechless;--which is little respected:
they are lugged in carts, stript by the savageries, and cruelly
used. There were first extensive plains, then boggy passes,
intricate mouutains; bog and rock; snow and VERGLAS.--On the 26th,
after indescribable endeavors, we got into Eger;--some 1,300 (about
one in ten) left frozen in the wilderness; and half the Army
falling ill at Eger, of swollen limbs, sore-throats, and other
fataler diseases, fatal then, or soon after. Chevert, at Prag,
refused summons from Prince Lobkowitz: 'No, MON PRINCE; not by any
means! We will die, every man of us, first; and we will burn Prag
withal!'--So that Lobkowitz had to consent to everything;
and escort Chevert to Eger, with bag and baggage, Lobkowitz
furnishing the wagons.

"Comparable to the Retreat of Xenophon! cry many. Every Retreat is
compared to that. A valiant feat, after all exaggerations. A thing
well done, say military men;--'nothing to object, except that the
troops were so ruined;'--and the most unmilitary may see, it is the
work of a high and gallant kind of man. One of the coldest
expeditions ever known. There have been three expeditions or
retreats of this kind which were very cold: that of those Swedes in
the Great Elector's time (not to mention that of Karl XII.'s Army
out of Norway, after poor Karl XII. got shot); that of Napoleon
from Moscow; this of Belleisle, which is the only one brilliantly
conducted, and not ending in rout and annihilation.

"The troops rest in Eger for a week or two; then homeward through
the Ober-Pfalz:--'go all across the Rhine at Speyer' (5th February
next); the Bohemian Section of the Oriflamme making exit in this
manner. Not quite the eighth man of them left; five-eighths are
dead: and there are about 12,000 prisoners, gone to Hungary,--who
ran mostly to the Turks, such treatment had they, and were not
heard of again." [<italic> Guerre de Boheme, <end italic> ii. 221
(for this last fact). IB. 204, and Espagnac, i. 176 (for
particulars of the Retreat); and still better, Belleisle's own
Despatch and Private Letter (Eger, 2d January and 5th January,
1743), in <italic> Campagnes, <end italic> vii. 1-21.]--
Ah, Belleisle, Belleisle!

The Army of the Oriflamme gets home in this sad manner; Germany not
cut in Four at all. "Implacable Austrian badgers," as we call them,
"gloomily indignant bears," how have they served this fine French
hunting-pack; and from hunted are become hunters, very dangerous to
contemplate! At Frankfurt, Belleisle, for his own part, pauses;
cannot, in this entirely down-broken state of body, serve his
Majesty farther in the military business; will do some needful
diplomatics with the Kaiser, and retire home to government of Metz,
till his worn-out health recover itself a little.


Prince Karl had been busy upon Braunau (the BAVARIAN Braunau, not
the BOHEMIAN or another, Seckendorf's chief post on the Inn);
had furiously bombarded Braunau, with red-hot balls, for some days;
[2d-10th December (Espagnac, i. 171).] intent to explode the
Seckendorf-Broglio projects before winter quite came. Seckendorf,
in a fine frenzy, calls to Broglio, "Help!" and again calls; both
Kaiser and he, CRESCENDO to a high pitch, before Broglio will come.
"Relieve Braunau? Well;--but no fighting farther, mark you!"
answers Broglio. To the disgust of Kaiser and Seckendorf; who were
eager for a combined movement, and hearty attack on Prince Karl,
with perhaps capture of Passau itself. At sight of Broglio and
Seckendorf combined, Prince Karl did at once withdraw from Braunau;
but as to attacking him,--"NON; MILLE FOIS, NON!" answered Broglio
disdainfully bellowing. First grand quarrel of Broglio and
Seckendorf; by no means their last. Prince Karl put his men in
winter-quarters, in those Passau regions; postponing the explosion
of the Broglio-Seckendorf projects, till Spring; and returned to
Vienna for the Winter gayeties and businesses there. How the high
Maria Theresa is contented, I do not hear;--readers may take this
Note, which is authentic, though vague, and straggling over wide
spaces of time still future.

"Does her Majesty still think of 'taking the command of her Armies
on herself,' high Amazon that she is!" Has not yet thought of that,
I should guess. "At one time she did seriously think of it, says a
good witness; which is noteworthy. [Podewils, <italic> Der Wiener
Hof  <end italic> (Court of Vienna, in the years 1746, 1747 and
1748; a curious set of REPORTS for Friedrich's information, by
Podewils, his Minister there); printed under that Title, "by the
Imperial Academy of Sciences" (Wien, 1850);--may be worth alluding
to again, if chance offer.] Her Husband has been with the Armies,
once, twice; but never to much purpose (Brother Karl doing the
work, if work were done);--and this is about the last time, or the
last but one, this in Winter 1742. She loves her Husband
thoroughly, all along; but gives him no share in business, finding
he understands nothing except Banking. It is certain she chiefly
was the reformer of her Army," in years coming; "she, athwart many
impediments. An ardent rider, often on horseback, at paces
furiously swift; her beautiful face tanned by the weather.
Very devout too; honest to the bone, athwart all her prejudices.
Since our own Elizabeth! no Woman, and hardly above one Man, is
worth being named beside her as a Sovereign Ruler;--she is 'a
living contradiction of the Salic Law,' say her admirers.
Depends on England for money, All hearts and right hands in Austria
are hers. The loss of Schlesien, pure highway robbery, thrice-
doleful loss and disgrace, rankles incurable in the noble heart,
pious to its Fathers withal, and to their Heritages in the world,
--we shall see with what issues, for the next twenty years, to that
'BOSE MANN,' unpardonably 'wicked man' of Brandenburg. And indeed,
to the end of her life, she never could get over it. To the last,
they say, if a Stranger, getting audience, were graciously asked,
'From what Country, then?' and should answer, 'Schlesien, your
Majesty!' she would burst into tears.--'Patience, high Madam!'
urges the Britannic Majesty: 'Patience; may not there be
compensation, if we hunt well?'" Austrian bears, implacable
badgers, with Britannic mastiffs helping, now that the Belleisle
Pack is down!--

At Berlin it was gay Carnival, while those tragedies went on:
Friedrich was opening his Opera-House, enjoying the first ballets,
while Belleisle filed out of Prag that gloomy evening. Our poor
Kaiser will not "retain Bohemia," then; how far from it! The thing
is not comfortable to Friedrich; but what help?

This is the gayest Carnival yet seen in Berlin, this immediately
following the Peace; everybody saying to himself and others,
"GAUDEAMUS, What a Season!" Not that, in the present hurry of
affairs, I can dwell on operas, assemblies, balls, sledge-parties;
or indeed have the least word to say on such matters, beyond
suggesting them to the imagination of readers. The operas, the
carnival gayeties, the intricate considerations and diplomacies of
this Winter, at Berlin and elsewhere, may be figured: but here is
one little speck, also from the Archives, which is worth saving.
Princess Ulrique is in her twenty-third year, Princess Amelia in
her twentieth;  beautiful clever creatures, both; Ulrique the more
staid of the two. "Never saw so gay a Carnival," said everybody;
and in the height of it, with all manner of gayeties going on,--
think where the dainty little shoes have been pinching!


BERLIN, "1st March, 1743.
"MY DEAREST BROTHER,--I know not if it is not too bold to trouble
your Majesty on private affairs: but the great confidence which my
Sister [Amelia] and I have in your kindness encourages us to lay
before you a sincere avowal as to the state of our bits of finances
(NOS PETITES FINANCES), which are a good deal deranged just now;
the revenues having, for two years and a half past, been rather
small; amounting to only 400 crowns (60 pounds) a year; which could
not be made to cover all the little expenses required in the
adjustments of ladies. This circumstance, added to our card-
playing, though small, which we could not dispense with, has led us
into debts. Mine amount to 225 pounds (1,500 crowns); my Sister's
to 270 pounds (1,800 crowns).

"We have not spoken of it to the Queen-Mother, though we are well
sure she would have tried to assist us; but as that could not have
been done without some inconvenience to her, and she would have
retrenched in some of her own little entertainments, I thought we
should do better to apply direct to Your Majesty; being persuaded
you would have taken it amiss, had we deprived the Queen of her
smallest pleasure;--and especially, as we consider you, my dear
Brother, the Father of the Family, and hope you will be so gracious
as help us. We shall never forget the kind acts of Your Majesty;
and we beg you to be persuaded of the perfect and tender attachment
with which we are proud to be all our lives,--Your Majesty's most
humble and most obedient Sisters and Servants,

[which latter adds anxiously as Postscript, Ulrique having written

"P.S. I most humbly beg Your Majesty not to speak of this to the
Queen-Mother, as perhaps she would not approve of the step we are
now taking." [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xxvii.
i. 387.]

Poor little souls; bankruptcy just imminent! I have no doubt
Friedrich came handsomely forward on this grave occasion, though
Dryasdust has not the grace to give me the least information.--
"Frederic Baron Trenck," loud-sounding Phantasm once famous in the
world, now gone to the Nurseries as mythical, was of this Carnival
1742-43; and of the next, and NOT of the next again! A tall
actuality in that time; swaggering about in sumptuous Life-guard
uniform, in his mess-rooms and assembly-rooms; much in love with
himself, the fool. And I rather think, in spite of his dog
insinuations, neither Princess had heard of him till twenty years
hence, in a very different phasis of his life! The empty, noisy,
quasi-tragic fellow;--sounds throughout quasi-tragically, like an
empty barrel; well-built, longing to be FILLED. And it is
scandalously false, what loud Trenck insinuates, what stupid
Thiebault (always stupid, incorrect, and the prey of stupidities)
confirms, as to this matter,--fit only for the Nurseries, till it
cease altogether.


Voltaire and the divine Emilie are home to Cirey again; that of
Brussels, with the Royal Aachen Excursion, has been only an
interlude. They returned, by slow stages, visit after visit, in
October last,--some slake occurring, I suppose, in that
interminable Honsbruck Lawsuit; and much business, not to speak of
ennui, urging them back. They are now latterly in Paris itself,
safe in their own "little palace (PETIT PALAIS) at the point of the
Isle;" little jewel of a house on the Isle St. Louis, which they
are warming again, after long absence in Brussels and the barbarous
countries. They have returned hither, on sufferance, on good
behavior; multitudes of small interests, small to us, great to
them,--death of old Fleury, hopeful changes of Ministry, not to
speak of theatricals and the like,--giving opportunity and
invitation. Madame, we observe, is marrying her Daughter: the happy
man a Duke of Montenero, ill-built Neapolitan, complexion rhubarb,
and face consisting much of nose. [Letter of Voltaire, in <italic>
OEuvres, <end italic> lxxiii 24.] Madame never wants for business;
business enough, were it only in the way of shopping, visiting,
consulting lawyers, doing the Pure Sciences.

As to Voltaire, he has, as usual, Plays to get acted,--if he can.
MAHOMET, no; MORT DE CESAR, yes OR no; for the Authorities are shy,
in spite of the Public. One Play Voltaire did get acted, with a
success,--think of it, reader! The exquisite Tragedy MEROPE,
perhaps now hardly known to you; of which you shall hear anon.

But Plays are not all. Old Pleury being dead, there is again a
Vacancy in the Academy; place among the sacred Forty,--vacant for
Voltaire, if he can get it. Voltaire attaches endless importance to
this place; beautiful as a feather in one's cap; useful also to the
solitary Ishmael of Literature, who will now in a certain sense
have Thirty-nine Comrades, and at least one fixed House-of-Call in
this world. In fine, nothing can be more ardent than the wish of
M. de Voltaire for these supreme felicities. To be of the Forty, to
get his Plays acted,--oh, then were the Saturnian Kingdoms come; 
and a man might sing IO TRIUMPHE, and take his ease in the
Creation, more or less! Stealthily, as if on shoes of felt,--as if
on paws of velvet, with eyes luminous, tail bushy,--he walks
warily, all energies compressively summoned, towards that high
goal. Hush, steady! May you soon catch that bit of savory red-
herring, then; worthiest of the human feline tribe!--As to the Play
MEROPE, here is the notable passage:

"PARIS, WEDNESDAY, 20th FEBRUARY, 1743. First night of MEROPE;
which raised the Paris Public into transports, so that they knew
not what to do, to express their feelings. 'Author! M. de Voltaire!
Author!' shouted they; summoning the Author, what is now so common,
but was then an unheard-of originality. 'Author! Author!' Author,
poor blushing creature, lay squatted somewhere, and durst not come;
was ferreted out; produced in the Lady Villars's Box,--Dowager
there; known friends of Voltaire's. Between these Two he stands
ducking some kind of bow; uncertain, embarrassed what to do; with a
Theatre all in rapturous delirium round him,--uncertain it too, but
not embarrassed. 'Kiss him! MADAME LA DUCHESSE DE VILLARS,
EMBRASSEZ VOLTAIRE!' Yes, kiss him, fair Duchess, in the name of
France! shout all mortals;--and the younger Lady has to do it;
does it with a charming grace; urged by Madame la Marechale her
mother-in-law. [Duvernet (T. J. D. V.), <italic> Vie de Voltaire,
<end italic> p. 128; Voltaire himself, <italic> OEuvres, <end
italic> ii. 142; Barbier, ii. 358.] Ah, and Madame la Marechale was
herself an old love of Voltaire's; who had been entirely unkind
to him!

"Thus are you made immortal by a Kiss;--and have not your choice of
the Kiss, Fate having chosen for you. The younger Lady was a
Daughter of Marechal de Noailles [our fine old Marechal, gone to
the Wars against his Britannic Majesty in those very weeks]:
infinitely clever (INFINIMENT D'ESPRIT); beautiful too, I
understand, though towards forty;--hangs to the human memory,
slightly but indissolubly, ever since that Wednesday Night
of 1743."

Old Marechal de Noailles is to the Wars, we said;--it is in a world
all twinkling with watch-fires, and raked coals of War, that these
fine Carnival things go on. Noailles is 70,000 strong; posted in
the Rhine Countries, middle and upper Rhine; vigilantly patrolling
about, to support those staggering Bavarian Affairs; especially to
give account of his Britannic Majesty. Brittanic Majesty is thought
to have got the Dutch hoisted, after all; to have his sword OUT;--
and ere long does actually get on march; up the Rhine hitherward,
as is too evident, to Noailles, to the Kaiser and everybody!

Chapter IV.


Led by fond hopes,--and driven also by that sad fear, of a Visit
from his Britannic Majesty,--the poor Kaiser, in the rear of those
late Seckendorf successes, quitted Frankfurt, April 17th; and the
second day after, got to Munchen. Saw himself in Munchen again,
after a space of more than two years; "all ranks of people crowding
out to welcome him;" the joy of all people, for themselves and for
him, being very great. Next day he drove out to Nymphenburg; saw
the Pandour devastations there,--might have seen the window where
the rugged old Unertl set up his ladder, "For God's sake, your
Serenity, have nothing to do with those French!"--and did not want
for sorrowful comparisons of past and present.

It was remarked, he quitted Munchen in a day or two; preferring
Country Palaces still unruined,--for example, Wolnzach, a Schloss
he has, some fifty miles off, down the Iser Valley, not far from
the little Town of Mosburg; which, at any rate, is among the
Broglio-Seckendorf posts, and convenient for business. Broglio and
Seckendorf lie dotted all about, from Braunau up to Ingolstadt and
farther; chiefly in the Iser and Inn Valleys, but on the north side
of the Donau too; over an area, say of 2,000 square miles;
Seckendorf preaching incessantly to Broglio, what is sun-clear to
all eyes but Broglio's, "Let us concentrate, M. le Marechal; let us
march and attack! If Prince Karl come upon us in this scattered
posture, what are we to do?" Broglio continuing deaf; Broglio
answering--in a way to drive one frantic.

The Kaiser himself takes Broglio in hand; has a scene with Broglio;
which, to readers that study it, may be symbolical of much that is
gone and that is coming. It fell "about the middle of May" (prior
to May 17th, as readers will guess before long); and here,
according to report, was the somewhat explosive finale it had.
Prince Conti, the same who ran to join Maillebois, and has proved a
gallant fellow and got command of a Division, attends Broglio in
this important interview at Wolnzach:--

SCHLOSS OF WOLNZACH, MAY, 1743. ... "The Kaiser pressed, in the
most emphatic manner, That the Two Armies [French and Bavarian]
should collect and unite for immediate action. To which Broglio
declared he could by no means assent, not having any order from
Paris of that tenor. The Kaiser thereupon: 'I give you my order for
it; I, by the Most Christian King's appointment, am Commander-in-
Chief of your Army, as of my own; and I now order you!'--taking out
his Patent, and spreading it before Broglio with the sign-manual
visible, Broglio knew the Patent very well; but answered, 'That he
could not, for all that, follow the wish of his Imperial Majesty; 
that he, Broglio, had later orders, and must obey them!' Upon which
the Imperial Majesty, nature irrepressibly asserting itself,
towered into Olympian height; flung his Patent on the table,
telling Conti and Broglio, 'You can send that back, then;
Patents like that are of no service to me!' and quitted them in a
blaze." [Adelung, iii. B, 150; cites ETTAT POLITIQUE (Annual
Register of those times), xiii. 16. Nothing of this scene in
<italic> Campagnes, <end italic> which is officially careful to
suppress the like of this.]

The indisputable fact is, Prince Karl is at the door; nay he has
beaten in the door in a frightful manner; and has Braunau, key of
the Inn, again under siege. Not we getting Passau; it is he getting
Braunau! A week ago (9th May) his vanguard, on the sudden, cut to
pieces our poor Bavarian 8,000, and their poor Minuzzi, who were
covering Braunau, and has ended him and them;--Minuzzi himself
prisoner, not to be heard of or beaten more;--and is battering
Braunau ever since. That is the sad fact, whatever the theory may
have been. Prince Karl is rolling in from the east; Lobkowitz (Prag
now ended) is advancing from the northward, Khevenhuller from the
Salzburg southern quarter: Is it in a sprinkle of disconnected
fractions that you will wait Prince Karl? The question of uniting,
and advancing, ought to be a simple one for Broglio. Take this
other symbolic passage, of nearly the same date;--posterior, as we
guessed, to that Interview at Wolnzach.

"DINGELFINGEN, 17th MAY, 1743. At Dingelfingen on the Iser, a
strongish central post of the French, about fifty miles farther
down than that Schloss of Wolnzach, there is a second argument,--
much corroborative of the Kaiser's reasoning. About sunrise of the
17th, the Austrians, in sufficient force, chiefly of Pandours,
appeared on the heights to the south: they had been foreseen the
night before; but the French covering General, luckier than
Minuzzi, did not wait for them; only warned Dingelfingen, and
withdrew across the River, to wait there on the safe left bank.
Leader of the Austrians was one Leopold Graf von Daun, active man
of thirty-five, already of good rank, who will be much heard of
afterwards; Commandant in Dingelfingen is a Brigadier du Chatelet,
Marquis du Chatelet-Lamont; whom--after search (in the interest of
some idle readers)--I discover to be no other than the Husband of a
certain Algebraic Lady! Identity made out, mark what a pass he is
at. Count Daun comes on in a tempest of furious fire; 'very heavy,'
they say, from great guns and small; till close upon the place,
when he summons Du Chatelet: 'No;' and thereupon attempts scalade.
Cannot scalade, Du Chatelet and his people being mettlesome;
takes then to flinging shells, to burning the suburbs; Town itself
catches fire,--Town plainly indefensible. 'Truce for one hour'
proposes Du Chatelet (wishful to consult the covering General
across the River): 'No,' answers Daun. So that Du Chatelet has to
jumble and wriggle himself out of the place; courageous to the
last; but not in a very Parthian fashion,--great difficulty to get
his bridge ruined (very partially ruined), behind him;--and joins
the covering General, in a flustery singed condition! Were not
pursued farther by Daun:--and Prince Conti, Head General in those
parts, called it a fine defence, on examining."
[<italic> Campagnes, <end italic> viii. 239; Espagnac, i. 187;
Hormayr, iv. 82, 85.] Espagnac continues:--

"On the 19th," after one rest-day, "Graf von Daun set out for
Landau [still on the Iser, farther down; Baiern has ITS "Landau"
too, and its "Landshut," both on this River], to seize Landau;
which is another French place of strength. The Garrison defended
themselves for some time; after which they retired over the River
[left bauk, or wrong side of the Iser, they too]; and set fire to
the Bridge behind them. The fire of the Bridge caught the Town;
Pandours helping it, as our people said; and Landau also was
reduced to ashes."--Poor Landau, poor Dingelfingen, they cannot
have the benefit of Louis XV.'s talent for governing Germany, quite
gratis, it would appear!

But where are the divine Emilie and Voltaire, that morning, while
the Brigadier is in such taking? Sitting safe in "that dainty
little palace of Madame's (PETIT PALAIS) at the point of the Isle
de St. Louis," intent on quite other adventures; disgusted with the
slavish Forty and their methods of Election (of which by and by);
and little thinking of M. le Brigadier and the dangers of war.
--Prince de Conti praised the Brigadier's defence: but very
soon, alas,--

DEGGENDORF, 27th MAY. "Prince de Conti, at Deggendorf [other or
north bank of the Donau, Head-quarters of Conti, which was thought
to be well secured by batteries and defences on the steep heights
to landward], was himself suddenly attacked, the tenth day hence,
'May 27th, at daybreak,' in a still more furious manner; and was
tumbled out of Deggendorf amid whirlwinds of fire, in very flamy
condition indeed. The Austrians, playing on us from the uplands
with their heavy artillery, made a breach in our outmost battery:
'Not tenable!' exclaimed the Captain there: 'This way, my men!'--
and withdrew, like a shot, he and party; sliding down the steep
face of the mountain [feet foremost, I hope], home to Deggendorf in
this peculiar manner; leaving the AUSTRIANS to manage his guns.
Our two lower batteries, ruled by this upper one, had now to be
abandoned; and Conti ran, Bridge of the Town-ditch breaking under
him; baggages, even to his own portmanteaus, all lost; and had a
neck-and-neck race of it in getting to his Donau-Bridge, and across
to the safe side. With loss of everything, we say,--personal
baggage all included; which latter item, Prince Karl politely
returned him next day." [Espagnac, p. 188.]

Broglio, with Prince Karl in his bowels going at such a rate, may
judge now whether it was wise to lie in that loose posture,
scattered over two thousand square miles, and snort on his
judicious Seckendorf's advices and urgencies as he did!
Readers anticipate the issue; and shall not be wearied farther with
detail. There are, as we said, Three Austrian Armies pressing on
this luckless Bavaria and its French Protectors: Khevenhuller, from
Salzburg and the southern quarter, pushing in his Dauns;
Lobkowitz, hanging over us from the Ober-Pfalz (Naab-River Country)
on the north; and Prince Karl, on one or sometimes on both sides of
the Donau, pricking sharply into the rear of us; saying, by
bayonets, burnt bridges, bomb-shells, "Off; swift; it will be
better for you!" And Broglio has lost head, a mere whirlwind of
flaming gases; and your ablest Comte de Saxe in such position, what
can he do? Broglio writes to Versailles, That there will be no
continuing in Bavaria; that he recommends an order to march
homewards;--much to the surprise of Versailles.

"The Court of Versailles was much astonished at the message it got
from Broglio; Court of Versailles had always calculated that
Broglio could keep Bavaria; and had gone into extensive measures
for maintaining him there. Experienced old Marechal de Noailles has
a new French Army, 70,000 or more, assembled in the Upper Rhine for
that and the cognate objects [of whom, more specially, anon]:
Noailles, by order from Court, has detached 12,000, who are now
marching their best, to reinforce Broglio;--and indeed the Court
'had already appointed the Generals and Staff-Officers for
Broglio's Bavarian Army,' and gratified many men by promotions,
which now went to smoke! [Espagnac, i. 190.]

"Versailles, however, has to expedite the order: 'Come home, then.'
Order or no order, Broglio's posts are all crackling off again,
bursting aloft like a chain of powder-mines; Broglio is plunging
head foremost, towards Donauworth, towards Ingolstadt, his place of
arms; Seckendorf now welcome to join him, but unable to do anything
when joined. Blustering Broglio has no steadfastness of mind;
explodes like an inflammable body, in this crackling off of the
posts, and becomes a mere whirlwind of flaming gases. Old snuffling
Seckendorf, born to ill success in his old days, strong only in
caution, how is he to quench or stay this crackling of the posts?
Broglio blusters, reproaches, bullies; Seckendorf quarrels with him
outright, as he may well do: 'JARNI-BLEU, such a delirious
whirlwind of a Marechal; mere bickering flames and soot!'--and
looks out chiefly to keep his own skin and that of his poor
Bavarians whole.

"The unhappy Kaiser has run from Munchen again, to Augsburg for
some brief shelter; cannot stay there either, in the circumstances.
Will he have to hurry back to Frankfurt, to bankruptcy and
furnished lodgings,--nay to the Britannic Majesty's tender mercies,
whose Army is now actually there? Those indignant prophesyings to
Broglio, at the Schloss of Wolnzach, have so soon come true!
And Broglio and the French are--what a staff to lean upon!
Enough, the poor Kaiser, after doleful 'Council of War held at
Augsburg, June 25th,' does on the morrow make off for Frankfurt
again:--whither else? Britannic Majesty's intentions, friends tell
him, friend Wilhelm of Hessen tells him, are magnanimous; eager for
Peace to Teutschland; hostile only to the French. Poor Karl took
the road, June 26th;--and will find news on his arrival, or
before it.

"On which same day, 26th of June, as it chances, Broglio too has
made his packages; left a garrison in Ingolstadt, garrison in Eger;
and is ferrying across at Donauworth,--will see the Marlborough
Schellenberg as he passes,--in full speed for the Rhine Countries,
and the finis of this bad Business. [Adelung, iii. B. 152.] On the
road, I believe at Donauworth itself, Noailles's 12,000, little
foreseeing these retrograde events, met Broglio: 'Right about, you
too!' orders Broglio; and speeds Rhineward not the less. And the
same day of that ferrying at Donauworth, and of the Kaiser's
setting out for Frankfurt, Seckendorf,--at Nieder-Schonfeld [an old
Monastery near the Town of Rain, in those parts], the Kaiser being
now safe away,--is making terms for himself with Khevenhuller and
Prince Karl: 'Will lie quiet as mere REICHS-Army, almost as Troops
of the Swabian Circle, over at Wembdingen there, in said circle,
and be strictly neutral, if we can but get lived at all!' [Ib. iii.
B, 153.] Seckendorf concludes on the morrow, 27th June;--which is
elsewhere a memorable Day of Battle, as will be seen.

"Broglio marched in Five Divisions [Du Chatelet in the Second
Division, poor soul, which was led by Comte de Saxe): [Espagnac,
i. 198.] always in Five Divisions, swiftly, half a march apart;
through the Wurtemberg Country;--lost much baggage, many
stragglers; Tolpatcheries in multitude continually pricking at the
skirts of him; Prince Karl following steadily, Rhine-wards also, a
few marches behind. Here are omens to return with! 'But have you
seen a retreat better managed?' thinks Broglio to himself:" that is
one consoling circumstance.

In this manner, then, has the Problem of Bavaria solved itself.
Hungarian Majesty, in these weeks, was getting crowned in Prag;
"Queen of Bohemia, I, not you; in the sight of Heaven and of
Earth!" [Crowned 12th May, 1743 (Adelung, iii. B, 128); "news of
Prince Karl's having taken Braunau [incipiency of all these
successes] had reached her that very morning."]--and was purifying
her Bohemia: with some rigor (it is said), from foreign
defacements, treasonous compliances and the like, which there had
been. To see your Bavarian Kaiser, false King of Bohemia, your
Broglio with his French, and the Bohemian-Bavarian Question in
whole, all rolling Rhine-wards at their swiftest, with Prince Karl
sticking in the skirts of them:--what a satisfaction to that
high Lady!


Add to which fine set of results, simultaneously with them:
His Britannic Majesty, third effort successful, has got his sword
drawn, fairly out at last; and in the air is making horrid circles
with it, ever since March last; nay does, he flatters himself, a
very considerable slash with it, in this current month of June.
Of which, though loath, we must now take some notice.

The fact is, though Stair could not hoist the Dutch, and our
double-quick Britannic heroism had to drop dead in consequence,
Carteret has done it: Carteret himself rushed over in that crisis,
a fiery emphatic man and chief minister, [Arrived at the Hague
"5th October, 1742" (Adelung, iii. A, 294).]--"eager to please his
Master's humor!" said enemies. Yes, doubtless; but acting on his
own turbid belief withal (says fact); and revolving big thoughts in
his head, about bringing Friedrich over to the Cause of Liberty,
giving French Ambition a lesson for once, and the like.
Carteret strongly pulleying, "All hands, heave-oh!"--and, no doubt,
those Maillebois-Broglio events from Prag assisting him,--did bring
the High Mightinesses to their legs; still in a staggering splay-
footed posture, but trying to steady themselves. That is to say,
the High Mightinesses did agree to go with us in the Cause of
Liberty; will now pay actual Subsidies to her Hungarian Majesty (at
the rate of two for our three); and will add, so soon as humanly
possible, 20,000 men to those wind-bound 40,000 of ours;--which
latter shall now therefore, at once, as "Pragmatic Army" (that is
the term fixed on), get on march, Frankfurt way; and strike home
upon the French and other enemies of Pragmatic Sanction. This is
what Noailles has been looking for, this good while, and diligently
adjusting himself, in those Middle-Rhine Countries, to give
account of.

Pragmatic Army lifted itself accordingly,--Stair, and the most of
his English, from Ghent, where the wearisome Head-quarters had
been; Hanoverians, Hessians, from we will forget where;--and in
various streaks and streams, certain Austrians from Luxemburg (with
our old friend Neipperg in company) having joined them, are flowing
Rhine-ward ever since March 1st. ["February 18th," o.s. (Old
Newspapers).] They cross the Rhine at three suitable points;
whence, by the north bank, home upon Frankfurt Country, and the
Noailles-Broglio operations in those parts. The English crossed "at
Neuwied, in the end of April" (if anybody is curious); "Lord Stair
in person superintending them." Lord Stair has been much about, and
a most busy person; General-in-Chief of the Pragmatic Army till his
Britannic Majesty arrive. Generalissimo Lord Stair; and there is
General Clayton, General Ligonier, "General Heywood left with the
Reserve at Brussels:"--and, from the ashes of the Old Newspapers,
the main stages and particulars of this surprising Expedition
(England marching as Pragmatic Army into distant parts) can be
riddled out; though they require mostly to be flung in again.
Shocking weather on the march, mere Boreas and icy tempests;
snow in some places two feet deep; Rhine much swollen, when we come
to it.

The Austrian Chief General--who lies about Wiesbaden, and consults
with Stair, while the English are crossing--is Duke d'Ahremberg
(Father of the Prince de Ligne, or "Prince of Coxcombs" as some
call him): little or nothing of military skill in D'Ahremberg;
but Neipperg is thought to have given much counsel, such as it was.
With the Hessians there was some difficulty; hesitation on Landgraf
Wilhelm's part; who pities the poor Kaiser, and would fain see him
back at Frankfurt, and awaken the Britannic magnanimities for him.
"To Frankfurt, say you? We cannot fight against the Kaiser!"--and
they had to be left behind, for some time; but at length did come
on, though late for business, as it chanced. General of these
Hessians is Prince George of Hessen, worthy stout gentleman, whom
Wilhelmina met at the Frankfurt Gayeties lately. George's elder
Brother Wilhelm is Manager or Vice-Landgraf, this long while back;
and in seven or eight years hence became, as had been expected,
actual Landgraf (old King of Sweden dying childless);--of which
Wilhelm we shall have to hear, at Hanau (a Town of his in those
parts), and perhaps slightly elsewhere, in the course of this
business. A fat, just man, he too; probably somewhat iracund;
not without troubles in his House. His eldest Son, Heir-Apparent of
Hessen, let me remind readers, has an English Princess to Wife;
Princess Mary, King George's Daughter, wedded two years ago.
That, added to the Subsidies, is surely a point of union;--though
again there may such discrepancies rise! A good while after this,
the eldest Son becoming Catholic (foolish wretch), to the horror of
Papa,--there rose still other noises in the world, about Hessen and
its Landgraves. Of good Prince George, who doubtless attended in
War Councils, but probably said little, we hope to hear nothing
more whatever.

From Neuwied to Frankfurt is but a few days' march for the
Pragmatic Army; in a direct line, not sixty miles. Frankfurt
itself, which is a REICHS-STADT (Imperial City), they must not
enter: "Fear not, City or Country!" writes Stair to it: "We come as
saviors, pacificators, hostile to your enemies and disturbers only;
we understand discipline and the Laws of the Reich, and will pay
for everything." [Letter itself, of brief magnanimous strain, in
<italic> Campagnes de Noailles, <end italic> i. 127; date "Neuwied,
26th April, 1743" (Adelung, iii. B, 114).] For the rest, they are
in no hurry. They linger in that Frankfurt-Nainz region, all
through the month of May; not unobservant of Noailles and his
movements, if he made any; but occupied chiefly with gathering
provisions; forming, with difficulty, a Magazine in Hanau.
"What they intended: or intend, by coming hither?" asks the Public
everywhere: "To go into the Donau Countries, and enclose Broglio
between two fires?" That had been, and was still, Stair's fine
idea; but D'Ahremberg had disapproved the methods. D'Ahremberg, it
seems, is rather given to opposing Stair;--and there rise
uncertainties, in this Pragmatic Army: certain only hitherto the
Magazine in Hanau. And in secret, it afterwards appeared, the
immediate real errand of this Pragmatic Army had lain--in the
Chapter of Mainz Cathedral, and an Election that was going
on there.

The old Kur-Mainz, namely, had just died; and there was a new
"Chief Spiritual Kurfurst" to be elected by the Canons there.
Kur-Mainz is Chairman of the Reich, an important personage,
analogous to Speaker of the House of Commons; and ought to be,--by
no means the Kaiser's young Brother, as the French and Kaiser are
proposing; but a man with Austrian leanings;--say, Graf von Ostein,
titular DOM-CUSTOS (Cathedral Keeper) here; lately Ambassador in
London, and known in select society for what he is. Not much of an
Archbishop, of a Spiritual or Chief Spiritual Herr hitherto;
but capable of being made one,--were the Pragmatic Army at his
elbow! It was on this errand that the Pragmatic Army had come
hither, or come so early, and with their plans still unripe.
And truly they succeeded; got their Ostein chosen to their mind:
["21st March, 1743," Mainz vacant; "22d April," Ostein elected
(Adelung, iii. B, 113, 121).] a new Kur-Mainz,--whose leanings and
procedures were very manifest in the sequel, and some of them
important before long. This was always reckoned one result of his
Britannic Majesty's Pragmatic Campaign;--and truly some think it
was, in strict arithmetic, the only one, though that is far from
his Majesty's own opinion.


Friedrich, at an early stage, had inquired of his Britannic
Majesty, politely but with emphasis, "What in the world he meant,
then, by invading the German Reich; leading foreign Armies into the
Reich: in this unauthorized manner?" To which the Britannic Majesty
had answered, with what vague argument of words we will not ask,
but with a look that we can fancy,--look that would split a
pitcher, as the Irish say! Friedrich persisted to call it an
Invasion of the German Reich; and spoke, at first, of flatly
opposing it by a Reich's Army (30,000, or even 50,000, for
Brandenburg's contingent, in such case); but as the poor Reich took
no notice, and the Britannic Majesty was positive, Friedrich had to
content himself with protest for the present. [Friedrich's
Remonstrance and George's Response are in <italic> Adelung, <end
italic> iii. B, 132 (date, "March, 1743"); date of Friedrich's
first stirring in the matter is "January, 1743," and earlier
(ib. p. 37, p. 8, &c.).]

The exertions of Friedrich to bring about a Peace, or at least to
diminish, not increase, the disturbance, are forgotten now;
wearisome to think of, as they did not produce the smallest result;
but they have been incessant and zealous, as those of a man to
quench the fire which is still raging in his street, and from which
he himself is just saved. "Cannot the Reich be roused for
settlement of this Bavarian-Austrian quarrel?" thought Friedrich
always. And spent a great deal of earnest endeavor in that
direction; wished a Reich's ARMY OF MEDIATION; "to which I will
myself furnish 30,000; 50,000, if needed." Reich, alas! The Reich
is a horse fallen down to die,--no use spurring at the Reich;
it cannot, for many months, on Friedrich's Proposal (though the
question was far from new, and "had been two years on hand"), come
to the decision, "Well then, yes; the Reich WILL try to moderate
and mediate:" and as for a Reich's Mediation-ARMY, or any practical
step at all [The question had been started, "in August, 1741," by
the Kaiser himself; "11th March, 1743," again urged by him, after
Friedrich's offer; "10th May, 1743," "Yes, then, we will try;
but--" and the result continued zero.]--!

"Is not Germany, are not all the German Princes, interested to have
Peace?" thinks Friedrich. "A union of the independent German
Princes to recommend Peace, and even with hand on sword-hilt to
command it; that would be the method of producing Treaty of Peace!"
thinks he always. And is greatly set on that method; which, we
find, has been, and continues to be, the soul of his many efforts
in this matter. A fact to be noted. Long poring in those mournful
imbroglios of Dryasdust, where the fraction of living and important
welters overwhelmed by wildernesses of the dead and nugatory, one
at length disengages this fact; and readers may take it along with
them, for it proves illuminative of Friedrich's procedures now and
afterwards. A fixed notion of Friedrich's, this of German Princes
"uniting," when the common dangers become flagrant; a very lively
notion with him at present. He will himself cheerfully take the
lead in such Union, but he must not venture alone. [See Adelung,
iii. A and B, passim; Valori, i. 178; &c. &c.]

The Reich, when appealed to, with such degree of emphasis, in this
matter,--we see how the Reich has responded! Later on, Friedrich
tried "the Swabian Circle" (chief scene of these Austrian-Bavarian
tusslings); which has, like the other Circles, a kind of
parliament, and pretends to be a political unity of some sort.
"Cannot the Swabian Circle, or Swabian and Frankish joined (to
which one might declare oneself PROTECTOR, in such case), order
their own Captains, with military force of their own, say 20,000
men, to rank on the Frontier; and to inform peremptorily all
belligerents and tumultuous persons, French, Bavarian, English,
Austrian: 'No thoroughfare; we tell you, No admittance here!'"
Friedrich, disappointed of the Reich, had taken up that smaller
notion: and he spent a good deal of endeavor on that too,--of which
we may see some glimpse, as we proceed. But it proves all futile.
The Swabian Circle too is a moribund horse; all these horses dead
or moribund.

Friedrich, of course, has thought much what kind of Peace could be
offered by a mediating party. The Kaiser has lost his Bavaria:
yet he is the Kaiser, and must have a living granted him as such.
Compensations, aspirations, claims of territory; these will be
manifold! These are a world of floating vapor, of greed, of anger,
idle pretension: but within all these there are the real
necessities; what the case does require, if it is ever to be
settled! Friedrich discerns this Austrian-Bavarian necessity of
compensation; of new land to cut upon. And where is that to
come from!

In January last, Friedrich, intensely meditating this business, had
in private a bright-enough idea: That of secularizing those
so-called Sovereign Bishoprics, Austrian-Bavarian by locality and
nature, Passau, Salzburg, Regensburg, idle opulent territories,
with functions absurd not useful;--and of therefrom cutting
compensation to right and to left. This notion he, by obscure
channels, put into the head of Baron von Haslang, Bavarian
Ambassador at London; where it germinated rapidly, and came to
fruit;--was officially submitted to Lord Carteret in his own house,
in two highly artistic forms, one evening;--and sets the Diplomatic
Heads all wagging upon it. [Adelung, iii. B, 84, 90, "January-
March, 1743."] With great hope, at one time; till rumor of it got
abroad into the Orthodox imagination, into the Gazetteer world;
and raised such a clamor, in those months, as seldom was.
"Secularize, Hah! One sees the devilish heathen spirit of you;
and what kind of Kaiser, on the religious side, we now have the
happiness of having!" So that Kaiser Karl had to deny utterly,
"Never heard of such a thing!" Carteret himself had, in politeness,
to deny; much more, and for dire cause, had Haslang himself, over
the belly of facts, "Never in my dreams, I tell you!"--and to get
ambiguous certificate from Carteret, which the simple could
interpret to that effect. [Carteret's Letter (ibid. iii, B, 190).]

It was only in whispers that the name of Friedrich was connected
with this fine scheme; and all parties were glad to get it soon
buried again. A bright idea; but had come a century too soon.
Of another Carteret Negotiation with Kaiser Karl, famed as
"Conferences of Hanau," which had almost come to be a Treaty, but
did not; and then, failing that, of a famous Carteret "Treaty of
Worms," which did come to perfection, in these same localities
shortly afterwards; and which were infinitely interesting to our
Friedrich, both the Treaty and the Failure of the Treaty,--we
propose to speak elsewhere, in due time.

As to Friedrich's own endeavors and industries, at Regensburg and
elsewhere, for effective mediation of Peace; for the Reich to
mediate, and have "Army of Mediation;" for a "Union of Swabian
Circles" to do it; for this and then for that to do it;--as to
Friedrich's own efforts and strugglings that way, in all likely and
in some unlikely quarters,--they were, and continued to be,
earnest, incessant; but without result. Like the spurring of horses
really DEAD some time ago! Of which no reader wishes the details,
though the fact has to be remembered. And so, with slight
indication for Friedrich's sake,--being intent on the stage of
events,--we must leave that shadowy hypothetic region, as a wood in
the background; the much foliage and many twigs and boughs of which
do authentically TAKE the trouble to be there, though we have to
paint it in this summary manner.

Chapter V.


Brittanic Majesty with his Yarmouth, and martial Prince of
Cumberland, arrived at Hanover May 15th; soon followed by Carteret
from the Hague: [<italic> Biographia Britannica <end italic>
(Kippin's,? Carteret), iii. 277.] a Majesty prepared now for battle
and for treaty alike; kind of earthly Jove, Arbiter of Nations, or
victorious Hercules of the Pragmatic, the sublime little man.
At Herrenhausen he has a fine time; grandly fugling about;
negotiating with Wilhelm of Hessen and others; commanding his
Pragmatic Army from the distance: and then at last, dashing off
rather in haste, he-- It is well known what enigmatic Exploit he
did, at least the Name of it is well known! Here, from the
Imbroglios, is a rough Account; parts of which are introducible for
the sake of English readers.


"After some five leisurely weeks in Herrenhausen, George II. (now
an old gentleman of sixty), with his martial Fat Boy the Duke of
Cumberland, and Lord Carteret his Diplomatist-in-Chief, quitted
that pleasant sojourn, rather on a sudden, for the actual Seat of
War. By speedy journeys they got to Frankfurt Country; to Hanau,
June 19th; whence, still up the Mayn, twenty or thirty miles
farther up, to Aschaffenburg,--where the Pragmatic Army, after some
dangerous manoeuvring on the opposite or south bank of the River,
has lain encamped some days, and is in questionable posture.
Whither his Majesty in person has hastened up. And truly, if his
Majesty's head contain any good counsel, there is great need of it
here just now.

"Captains and men were impatient of that long loitering, hanging
idle about Frankfurt all through May; and they have at length
started real business,--with more valor than discretion, it is
feared. They are some 40 or 44,000 strong: English 16,000;
Hanoverians the like number; and of Austrians [by theory 20,000],
say, in effect, 12,000 or even 8,000: all paid by England.
They have Hanau for Magazine; they have rearguard of 12,000 [the
6,000 Hessians, and 6,000 new Hanoverians], who at last are
actually on march thither, near arriving there: 'Forward!' said the
Captaincy [said Stair, chiefly, it was thought]: 'Shall the whole
summer waste itself to no purpose?'--and are up the River thus far,
not on the most considerate terms.

"What this Pragmatic Army means to do? That is, and has been, a
great question for all the world; especially for Noailles and the
French,--not to say, for the Pragmatic itself! 'Get into Lorraine?'
think the French: 'Get into Alsace, and wrest it from us, for
behoof of her Hungarian Majesty,'--plundered goods, which indeed
belong to the Reich and her, in a sense! ELS-SASS (Alsace, OUTER-
seat), with its ROAD-Fortress (STRASburg) plundered from the Holy
Romish Reich by Louis XIV., in a way no one can forget;
actually plundered, as if by highway robbery, or by highway robbery
and attorneyism combined, on the part of that great Sovereign.
'To Strasburg? To Lorraine perhaps? Or to the Three Bishoprics'"
(Metz, Toul, Verdun:--readers recollect that Siege of Metz, which
broke the great heart of Karl V.? Who raged and fired as man seldom
did, with 50,000 men, against Guise and the intrusive French, for
six weeks; sound of his cannon heard at Strasburg on winter nights,
300 years ago: to no purpose; for his Captains of the Siege, after
trial and second trial, solemnly shook their heads; and the great
Kaiser, breaking into tears, had to raise the Siege of Metz; and
went his way, never to smile more in this world: and Metz, and
Toul, and Verdun, remain with the French ever since):--"To the
Three Bishoprics, possibly enough!"

"'Or they may purpose for the Donau Countries, where Broglio is
crackling off like trains of gunpowder; and lend hand to Prince
Karl, thereby enclosing Broglio fires?' This, according to present
aspects, is between two the likeliest. And perhaps, had provenders
and arrangements been made beforehand for such a march, this had
been the feasiblest: and, to my own notion, it was some wild hope
of doing this without provenders or prearrangements that had
brought the Pragmatic into its present quarters at Aschaffenburg,
which are for the military mind a mystery to this day.

"Early in the Spring, the French Governmeut had equipped Noailles
with 70,000 men, to keep watch, and patrol about, in the Rhine-Mayn
Countries, and look into those points. Which he has been vigilantly
doing,--posted of late on the south or left bank of the Mayn;--and
is especially vigilant, since June 14th, when the Pragmatic Army
got on march, across the Mayn at Hochst; and took to offering him
battle, on his own south side of the River. Noailles--though his
Force [still 58,000, after that Broglio Detachment of 12,000] was
greatly the stronger--would not fight; preferred cutting off the
Enemy's supplies, capturing his river-boats, provision-convoys from
Hanau, and settling him by hunger, as the cheaper method.
Impetuous Stair was thwarted, by flat protest of his German
colleagues, especially by D'Ahremberg, in FORCING battle on those
rash terms: 'We Austrians absolutely will not!' said D'Ahremberg at
last, and withdrew, or was withdrawing, he for his part, across the
River again. So that Stair also was obliged to recross the River,
in indignant humor; and now lies at Aschaffenburg, suffering the
sad alternative, short diet namely, which will end in famine soon,
if these counsels prevail.

"Stair and D'Ahremberg do not well accord in their opinions;
nor, it seems, is anybody in particular absolute Chief; there are
likewise heats and jealousies between the Hanoverian and the
English troops ('Are not we come for all your goods?' 'Yes, damn
you, and for all our chattels too!')--and withal it is frightfully
uncertain whether a high degree of intellect presides over these
44,000 fighting men, which may lead them to something, or a low
degree, which can only lead them to nothing!--The blame is all laid
on Stair; 'too rash,' they say. Possibly enough, too rash.
And possibly enough withal, even to a sound military judgment, in
such unutterable puddle of jarring imbecilities, 'rashness,'
headlong courage, offered the one chance there was of success?
Who knows, had all the 44,000 been as rash as Stair and his
English, but luck, and sheer hard fighting, might have favored him,
as skill could not, in those sad circumstances! Stair's plan was,
'Beat Noailles, and you have done everything: provisions, opulent
new regions, and all else shall be added to you!' Stair's plan
might have answered,--had Stair been the master to execute it;
which he was not. D'Ahremberg's also, who protested, 'Wait till
your 12,000 join, and you have your provisions,' was the orthodox
plan, and might have much to say for itself. But the two plans
collapsing into one,--that was the clearly fatal method!
Magnanimous Stair never made the least explanation, to an
undiscerning Public or Parliament; wrapt himself in strict silence,
and accepted in a grand way what had come to him. [His Papers, to
voluminous extent, are still in the Family Archives;--not
inaccessible, I think, were the right student of them (who would be
a rare article among us!) to turn up.] Clear it is, the Pragmatic
Army had come across again, at Aschaffenburg, Sunday, June 16th;
and was found there by his Majesty on the Wednesday following, with
its two internecine plans fallen into mutual death; a Pragmatic
Army in truly dangerous circumstances. 

"The English who were in and round Aschaffenburg itself,
Hanoverians and Austrians encamping farther down, had put a battery
on the Bridge of Aschaffenburg; hoping to be able to forage thereby
on the other side of the Mayn. Whereupon Noailles had instantly
clapt a redoubt, under due cover of a Wood, at his end of the
Bridge, 'No passage this way, gentlemen, except into the cannon's
throat!'--so that Marshal Stair, reconnoitring that way, 'had his
hat shot off,' and rapidly drew back again. Nay, before long,
Noailles, at the Village of Seligenstadt, some eight miles farther
down, throws two wooden or pontoon bridges over; [Sketch of Plan at
p. 257.] can bring his whole Army across at Seligenstadt;
prohibits all manner of supply to us from Hanau or our Magazines by
his arrangement there:"--(Notable little Seligenstadt, "City of the
Blessed;" where Eginhart and Emma, ever since Charlemagne's time,
lie waiting the Resurrection; that is the place of these Noailles
contrivances!)--"Furthermore, we learn, Noailles has seized a post
twenty miles farther up the river (Miltenberg the name of it);
and will prevent supplies from coming down to us out of Branken or
the Neckar Country. We had forgotten, or our COLLAPSE of plans had
done it, that 'an army moves on its stomach' (as the King of
Prussia says), and that we have nothing to live upon in
these parts!

"Such has the unfortunate fact turned out to be, when Britannic
Majesty arrives; and it can now be discovered clearly, by any eyes,
however flat to the head. And a terrible fact it is. Discordant
Generals accuse one another; hungry soldiers cannot be kept from
plundering: for the horses there is unripe rye in quantity;
but what is there for the men? My poor traditionary friends, of the
Grey Dragoons, were wont (I have heard) to be heart-rending on this
point, in after years! Famine being urgent, discipline is not
possible, nor existence itself. For a week longer, George, rather
in obstinate hope than with any reasonable plan or exertion, still
tries it; finds, after repeated Councils of War, that he will have
to give it up, and go back to Hanau where his living is.
Wednesday night, 26th June, 1743, that is the final resolution,
inevitably come upon, without argument: and about one on Thursday
morning, the Army (in two columns, Austrians to vanward well away
from the River, English as rear-guard close on it) gets in motion
to execute said resolution,--if the Army can.

"If the Army can: but that is like to be a formidably difficult
business; with a Noailles watching every step of you, to-day and
for ten days back, in these sad circumstances. Eyes in him like a
lynx, they say; and great skill in war, only too cautious.
Hardly is the Army gone from Aschaffenburg, when Noailles, pushing
across by the Bridge, seizes that post,--no retreat now for us
thitherward. His Majesty, who marches in the rear division, has
happily some artillery with him; repels the assaults from behind,
which might have been more serious otherwise. As it is, there play
cannon across the River upon him:--Why not bend to right, and get
out of range, asks the reader? The Spessart Hills rise, high and
woody, on the right; and there is in many places no marching except
within range. Noailles has Five effective Batteries, at the various
good points, on his side of the River:--and that is nothing to what
he has got ready for us, were we once at Dettingen, within wind of
his Two Bridges a little beyond! Noailles has us in a perfect
mouse-trap, SOURICIERE as he felinely calls it; and calculates on
having annihilation ready for us at Dettingen.

"Dettingen, short way above those Pontoons at Seligenstadt, is near
eight miles westward [NORTHwestward, but let us use the briefer
term] from Aschaffenburg: Dettingen is a poor peasant Village, of
some size, close on the Mayn, and on our side of it. A Brook,
coming down from the Spessart Mountains, falls into the Mayn there;
having formed for itself, there and upwards, a considerable dell or
hollow way; chiefly on the western or right bank of which stands
the Village with its barnyards and piggeries: on both sides of the
great High-road, which here crosses the Brook, and will lead you to
Hanau twenty miles off,--or back to Aschaffenburg, and even to
Nurnberg and the Donau Countries, if you persevere. Except that of
the high-road, Dettingen Brook has no bridge. Above the Village,
after coming from the Mountains, the banks of it are boggy;
especially the western bank, which spreads out into a scrubby waste
of moor, for some good space. In which scrubby moor, as elsewhere
in this dell or hollow way itself, where the Village hangs, with
its hedges, piggeries, colegarths,--there is like to be bad enough
marching for a column of men! Noailles, as we said, has Two Bridges
thrown across the Mayn, just below; and the last of his Five
Batteries, from the other side, will command Dettingen. His plan of
operation is this:--

"By these Bridges he has passed 24,000 horse and foot across the
River, under his Nephew the chivalrous Duke of Grammont:
these, with due artillery and equipment, are to occupy the Village;
and to rank themselves in battle-order to leftward of it, on the
moor just mentioned,--well behind that hollow way, with its brook
and bogs;--and, one thing they must note well, Not to stir from
that position, till the English columns have got fairly into said
hollow way and brook of Dettingen, and are plunging more or less
distractedly across the entanglements there. With cannon on their
left flank, and such a gullet to pass through, one may hope they
will be in rather an attackable condition. Across that gullet it is
our intention they shall never get. How can they, if Grammont do
his duty?

"This is Noailles's plan; one of the prettiest imaginable, say
military men,--had the execution but corresponded. Noailles had
seized Aschaffenburg, so soon as the English were out of it;
Noailles, from his batteries beyond the River, salutes the English
march with continuous shot and thunder, which is very discomposing:
he sees confidently a really fair likelihood of capturing the
Britannic Majesty and his Pragmatic Army, unless they prefer to die
on the ground. Seldom, since that of the Caudine Forks, did any
Army, by ill-luck and ill-guidance, get into such a pinfold,--death
or flat surrender seemingly their one alternative.

"Thus march these English, that dewy morning, Thursday, June 27th,
1743, with cannon playing on their left flank; and such a fate
ahead of them, had they known it;--very short of breakfast, too,
for most part. But they have one fine quality, and Britannic
George, like all his Welf race from Henry the Lion down to these
days, has it in an eminent degree: they are not easily put into
flurry, into fear. In all Welf Sovereigns, and generally in Teuton
Populations, on that side of the Channel or on this, there is the
requisite unconscious substratum of taciturn inexpugnability, with
depths of potential rage almost unquenchable, to be found when you
apply for it. Which quality will much stead them on the present
occasion: and, indeed, it is perhaps strengthened by their
'stupidity' itself, what neighbors call their 'stupidity;'--want of
idle imagining, idle flurrying, nay want even of knowing, is not
one of the worst qualities just now! They tramp on, paying a
minimum of attention to the cannon; ignorant of what is ahead;
hoping only it may be breakfast, in some form, before the day quite
terminate. The day is still young, hardly 8 o'clock, when their
advanced parties find Dettingen beset; find a whole French Army
drawn up, on the scrubby moor there; and come galloping back with
this interesting bit of news! Pause hereupon; much consulting;
in fact, endless hithering and thithering, the affair being knotty:
'Fight, YES, now at last! But how?' Impetuous Stair was not wanting
to himself; Neipperg too, they say, was useful with advice;
D'Ahremberg, I should imagine, good for little.

"Some six hours followed of thrice-intricate deploying, planting of
field-pieces, counter-batteries; ranking, re-ranking, shuffling
hither and then thither of horse and foot; Noailles's cannonade
proceeding all the while; the English, still considerably exposed
to it, and standing it like stones; chivalrous Grammont, and with
better reason the English, much wishing these preliminaries were
done. A difficult business, that of deploying here. The Pragmatic
had no room, jammed so against the Spessart Hills, and obliged to
lean FROM the River and Noailles's cannon; had to rank itself in
six, some say in eight lines; horse behind foot, as well as on
flank; unsatisfactory to the military mind: and I think had not
done shuffling and re-shuffling at 2 P.M.,--when the Enemy came
bursting on, with a peremptory finish to it, 'Enough of that,
MESSIEUR'S LES ANGLAIS!' 'Too much of it, a great deal!' thought
Messieurs grimly, in response. And there ensued a really furious
clash of host against host; French chivalry (MAISON DU ROI, Black
Mousquetaires, the Flower of their Horse regiments) dashing, in
right Gallic frenzy, on their natural enemies,--on the English,
that is; who, I find, were mainly on the left wing there, horse and
foot; and had mainly (the Austrians and they, very mainly) the work
to do;--and did, with an effort, and luck helping, manage to do it.

"'Grammont breaks orders! Thrice-blamable Grammont!' exclaim
Noailles and others, sorrowfully wringing their hands. Even so!
Grammont had waited seven mortal hours; one's courage burning all
the while, courage perhaps rather burning down,--and not the least
use coming of if. Grammont had, in natural impatience, gradually
edged forward; and, in the end, was being cannonaded and pricked
into by the Enemy;-- and did at last, with his MAISON-DU-ROI, dash
across that essential Hollow Way, and plunge in upon them on their
own side of it. And 'the, English foot gave their volley too soon;'
ad Grammont did, in effect, partly repulse and disorder the front
ranks of them; and, blazing up uncontrollable, at sight of those
first ranks in disorder, did press home upon them more and more;
get wholly into the affair, bringing on his Infantry as well:
'Let us finish it wholly, now that our hand is in!'--and took one
cannon from the Enemy; and did other feats.

"So furious was that first charge of his; 'MAISON-DU-ROI covering
itself with glory,'--for a short while. MAISON-DU-ROI broke three
lines of the Enemy [three, not "Five"]; did in some places actually
break through; in others 'could not, but galloped along the front.'
Three of their lines: but the fourth line would not break; much the
contrary, it advanced (Austrians and English) with steady fire,
hotter and hotter: upon this fourth line MAISON-DU-ROI had, itself,
to break, pretty much altogether, and rush home again, in ruinous
condition. 'Our front lines made lanes for them; terribly
maltreating them with musketry on right and left, as they galloped
through.' And this was the end of Grammont's successes, this charge
of horse; for his infantry had no luck anywhere; and the essential
crisis of the Battle had been here. It continued still a good
while; plenty of cannonading, fusillading, but in sporadic detached
form; a confused series of small shocks and knocks; which were
mostly, or all, unfortunate for Grammont; and which at length
knocked him quite off the field. 'He was now interlaced with the
English,' moans Noailles; 'so that my cannon, not to shoot Grammont
as well as the English, had to cease firing!' Well, yes, that is
true, M. le Marechal; but that is not so important as you would
have it. The English had stood nine hours in this fire of yours;
by degrees, leaning well away from it; answering it with counter-
batteries;--and were not yet ruined by it, when the Grammont crisis
came! Noailles should have dashed fresh troops across his Bridges,
and tried to handle them well. Noailles did not do that; or do
anything but wring his hands.

"The Fight lasted four hours; ever hotter on the English part, ever
less hot on the French [fire of anthracite-coal VERSUS flame of dry
wood, which latter at last sinks ASHY!]--and ended in total defeat
of the French. The French Infantry by no means behaved as their
Cavalry had done. The GARDES FRANCAISES [fire burning ashy, after
seven hours of flaming], when Grammont ordered them up to take the
English in flank, would hardly come on at all, or stand one push.
They threw away their arms, and plunged into the River, like a
drove of swimmers; getting drowned in great numbers. So that their
comrades nicknamed them 'CANARDS DU MEIN (Ducks of the Mayn):'
and in English mess-rooms, there went afterwards a saying:
'The French had, in reality, Three Bridges; one of them NOT wooden,
and carpeted with blue cloth!' Such the wit of military mankind.

"... The English, it appears, did something by mere shouting.
Partial huzzas and counter-huzzas between the Infantries were going
on at one time, when Stair happened to gallop up: 'Stop that,' said
Stair; 'let us do it right. Silence; then, One and all, when I give
you signal!' And Stair, at the right moment, lifting his hat, there
burst out such a thunder-growl, edged with melodious ire in alt, as
quite seemed to strike a damp into the French, says my authority,
'and they never shouted more. ... Our ground in many parts was
under rye,' hedgeless fields of rye, chief grain-crop of that sandy
country. 'We had already wasted above 120,000 acres of it,' still
in the unripe state, so hungry were we, man and horse, 'since
crossing to Aschaffenburg;'--fighting for your Cause of Liberty, ye
benighted ones!

"King Friedrich's private accounts, deformed by ridicule, are, That
the Britannic Majesty, his respectable old Uncle, finding the
French there barring his way to breakfast, understood simply that
there must and should be fighting, of the toughest; but had no plan
or counsel farther: that he did at first ride up, to see what was
what with his own eyes; but that his horse ran away with him,
frightened at the cannon; upon which he hastily got down; drew
sword; put himself at the head of his Hanoverian Infantry [on the
right wing], and stood,--left foot drawn back, sword pushed out, in
the form of a fencing-master doing lunge,--steadily in that
defensive attitude, inexpugnable like the rocks, till all was over,
and victory gained. This is defaced by the spirit of ridicule, and
not quite correct. Britannic Majesty's horse [one of those 500 fine
animals] did, it is certain, at last dangerously run away with him;
upon which he took to his feet and his Hanoverians. But he had been
repeatedly on horseback, in the earlier stages; galloping about, to
look with his own eyes, could they have availed him; and was heard
encouraging his people, and speaking even in the English language,
'Steady, my boys; fire, my brave boys, give them fire; they will
soon run!' [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> (iii. 14):
compare Anonymous, <italic> Life of the Duke of Cumberland <end
italic> (p. 64 n.); Henderson's LIFE of ditto; &c.] Latterly, there
can be no doubt, he stands [and to our imagination, he may fitly
stand throughout] in the above attitude of lunge; no fear in him,
and no plan; 'SANS PEUR ET SANS AVIS,' as me might term it. Like a
real Hanoverian Sovereign of England; like England itself, and its
ways in those German Wars. A typical epitome of long sections of
English History, that attitude of lunge!--

"The English Officers also, it is evident, behaved in their usual
way:--without knowledge of war, without fear of death, or regard to
utmost peril or difficulty; cheering their men, and keeping them
steady upon the throats of the French, so far as might be.
And always, after that first stumble with the French Horse was
mended, they kept gaining ground, thrusting back the Enemy, not
over the Dettingen Brook and Moor-ground only, but, knock after
knock, out of his woody or other coverts, back and ever back,
towards Welzheim, Kahl, and those Two Bridges of his. The flamy
French [ligneous fire burning lower and lower, VERSUS anthracitic
glowing brighter and brighter] found that they had a bad time of
it;--found, in fact, that they could not stand it; and tumbled
finally, in great torrents, across their Bridges on the Mayn, many
leaping into the River, the English sitting dreadfully on the
skirts of them. So that had the English had their Cavalry in
readiness to pursue, Noailles's Army, in the humor it had sunk to,
was ruined, and the Victory would have been conspicuously great.
But they had, as too common, nothing ready. Impetuous Stair strove
to get ready; "pushed out the Grey Dragoons" for one item. But the
Authorities refused Stair's counsel, as rash again; and made no
effectual pursuit at all;--too glad that they had brushed their
Battle-field triumphantly clear, and got out of that fatal pinfold
in an honorable manner.

MAP: BOOK XIV, Chap V, page 257 GOES HERE--------------------------

"They stayed on the ground till 10 at night; settling, or trying to
settle, many things. The Surgeons were busy as bees, but able for
Officers only;--'Dress HIM first!' said the glorious Duke of
Cumberland, pointing to a young Frenchman [Excellency Fenelon's
Son, grand-nephew of TELEMAQUE] who was worse wounded than his
Highness. Quite in the Philip-Sydney fashion; which was much taken
notice of. 'All this while, we had next to nothing to eat' (says
one informant).--Ten P.M.: after which, leaving a polite Letter to
Noailles, 'That he would take care of our Wounded, and bury our
Slain as well as his own,' we march [through a pour of rain] to
Hanau, where our victuals are, and 12,000 new Hessians and
Hanoverians by this time.

"Noailles politely bandaged the Wounded, buried the Dead. Noailles,
gathering his scattered battalions, found that he had lost 2,659
men; no ruinous loss to him,--the Enemy's being at least equal, and
all his Wounded fallen Prisoners of War. No ruinous loss to
Noailles, had it not been the loss of Victory,--which was a sore
blow to French feeling; and, adding itself to those Broglio
disgraces, a new discouragement to Most Christian Majesty.
Victory indisputably lost:--but is it not Grammont's blame
altogether? Grammont bears it, as we saw; and it is heavily laid on
him. But my own conjecture is, forty thousand enraged people, of
English and other Platt-Teutsch type, would have been very
difficult to pin up, into captivity or death instead of breakfast,
in that manner: and it is possible if poor Grammont had not
mistaken, some other would have done so, and the hungry Baresarks
(their blood fairly up, as is evident) would have ended in getting
through." [Espagnac, i. 193; <italic> Guerre de Boheme, <end
italic> i. 231.--<italic> Gentleman's Magazine, <end italic> vol.
xiii. (for 1743), pp. 328-481;--containing Carteret's Despatch from
the field; followed by many other Letters and indistinct Narrations
from Officers present (p. 434, "Plan of the Battle," blotchy,
indecipherable in parts, but essentially rather true),--is worth
examining. See likewise Anonymous, <italic> Memoirs of the late
Duke of Cumberland <end italic> (Lond. 1767; the Author an
ignorant, much-adoring military-man, who has made some study, and
is not so stupid as he looks), pp. 56-78; and Henderson (ignorant
he too, much-adoring, and not military), <italic> Life of the Duke
of Cumberland <end italic> (Lond. 1766), pp. 32-48. Noailles's
Official Account (ingenuously at a loss what to say), in <italic>
Campagnes, <end italic> ii. B, 242-253, 306-310. <italic> OEuvres
de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 11-14 (incorrect in many of

This was all the Fighting that King George got of his Pragmatic
Army; the gain from conquest made by it was, That it victoriously
struggled back to its bread-cupboard. Stair, about two months
hence, in the mere loitering and higgling that there was, quitted
the Pragmatic; magnanimously silent on his many wrongs and
disgusts, desirous only of "returning to the plough," as he
expressed himself. The lofty man; wanted several requisites for
being a Marlborough; wanted a Sarah Jennings, as the preliminary of
all!--We will not attend the lazy movements and procedures of the
Pragmatic Army farther; which were of altogether futile character,
even in the temporary Gazetteer estimate; and are to be valued at
zero, and left charitably in oblivion by a pious posterity. Stair,
the one brightish-looking man in it, being gone, there remain
Majesty with his D'Ahrembergs, Neippergs, and the Martial Boy;
Generals Cope, Hawley, Wade, and many of leaden character, remain:
--let the leaden be wrapped in lead.

It was not a successful Army, this Pragmatic. Dettingen itself, in
spite of the rumoring of Gazetteers and temporary persons, had no
result,--except the extremely bad one, That it inflated to an
alarming height the pride and belligerent humor of his Britannic,
especially of her Hungarian Majesty; and made Peace more difficult
than ever. That of getting Ostein, with his Austrian leanings,
chosen Kur-Mainz,--that too turned out ill: and perhaps, in the
course of the next few months, we shall judge that, had Ostein
leant AGAINST Austria, it had been better for Austria and Ostein.
Of the Pragmatic Army, silence henceforth, rather than speech!--

One thing we have to mark, his Britannic Majesty, commander of such
an Army,--and of such a Purse, which is still more stupendous,--has
risen, in the Gazetteer estimate and his own, to a high pitch of
importance. To be Supreme Jove of Teutschland, in a manner; and
acts, for the present Summer, in that sublime capacity.
Two Diplomatic feats of his,--one a Treaty done and tumbled down
again, the other a Treaty done and let stand ("Treaty of Worms,"
and "Conferences," or NON-Treaty "of Hanau"),--are of moment in
this History and that of the then World. Of these two Transactions,
due both of them to such an Army and such a Purse, we shall have to
take some notice by and by; the rest shall belong to Night and her
leaden sceptre--much good may they do her!

Some ten days after Dettingen, Broglio (who was crackling off from
Donauwurth, in view of the Lines of Schellenberg, that very 27th of
June) ended his retreat to the Rhine Countries; "glorious," though
rather swift, and eaten into by the Tolpatcheries of Prince Karl.
"July 8th, at Wimpfen" (in the Neckar Region, some way South of
Dettingen), Broglio delivers his troops to Marechal de Noailles's
care; and, next morning, rushes off towards Strasburg, and quiet
Official life, as Governor there.

"The day after his arrival," says Friedrich, "he gave a grand ball
in Strasburg:" [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic>
iii. 10.] "Behold your conquering hero safe again, my friends!"
An ungrateful Court judged otherwise of the hero. Took his
Strasburg Government from him, gave it to Marechal de Coigny;
ordered the hero to his Estates in the Country, Normandy, if I
remember;--where he soon died of apoplexy, poor man; and will
trouble none of us again. "A man born for surprises," said
Friedrich long since, in the Strasburg Doggerel. Lost his
indispensable garnitures, at the Ford of Secchia once; and now, in
these last twelve months, is considered to have done a series of
blustery explosions, derogatory to the glory of France, and ruinous
to that sublime Belleisle Enterprise for oue thing.

A ruined Enterprise that, at any rate; seldom was Enterprise better
ruined. Here, under Broglio, amid the titterings of mankind, has
the tail of the Oriflamme gone the same bad road as its head did;--
into zero and outer darkness; leaving the expenses to pay. Like a
mad tavern-brawl of one's own raising, the biggest that ever was.
Has cost already, I should guess, some 80,000 French drilled Men,
paid down, on the nail, to the inexorable Fates: and of coined
Millions,--how many? In subsidies, in equipments, in waste, in loss
and wreck: Dryasdust could not have told me, had he tried. And then
the breakages, damages still chargeable; the probable afterclap?
For you cannot quite gratuitously tweak people by the nose, in your
wanton humor, over your wine!--One willing man, or Most Christian
Majesty, can at any time begin a quarrel; but there need always two
or more to end it again.

Most Christian Majesty is not so sensible of this fact as he
afterwards became; but what with Broglio and the extinct Oriflamme,
what with Dettingen and the incipient Pragmatic, he is heartily
disgusted and discouraged; and wishes he had not thought of cutting
Germany in Four. July 26th, Most Christian Majesty applies to the
German Diet; signifying "That he did indeed undertake to help the
Kaiser, according to treaties; but was the farthest in the world
from meaning to invade Germany, on his own score. That he had and
has no quarrel, except with Austria as Kaiser's enemy; and is ready
to be friends even with Austria. And now indeed intends to withdraw
his troops wholly from the German territory. And can therefore hope
that all unpleasantness will cease, between the German Nation and
him; and that perhaps the Kaiser will be able to make peace with
her Majesty of Hungary on softer terms than at one time seemed
likely. If only the animosities of sovereign persons would assuage
themselves, and each of us would look without passion at the issue
really desirable for him!" [Espagnac, i. 200. Adelung, iii. B, 199
(26th July); Ib. 201 (the Answer to it, 16th August).]

That is now, 26th July, 1743, King Louis's story for himself to the
Diet of the Holy Roman Empire, Teutsch by Nation, sitting at
Frankfurt in rather disconsolate circumstances. The Diet naturally
answered, "JA WOHL, JA WOHL," in intricate official language,--
nobody need know what the Diet answered. But what the Hungarian
Majesty answered, strong and high in such Britannic backing,--this
was of such unexpected tone, that it fixed everybody's attention;
and will very specially require to be noted by us, in the course of
a week or two.

We said, her Hungarian Majesty was getting crowned in Bohemia,
getting personally homaged in Upper Austria, about to get vice-
homaged in Bavaria itself,--nothing but glorious pomp, but loyalty
loudly vocal, in Prag, in Linz and the once-afflicted Countries;
at her return to Vienna, she has met the news of Dettingen; and is
ready to strike the stars with her sublime head. "My little Paladin
become Supreme Jove, too: aha!"


Britannic Majesty stayed two whole months in Hanau, brushing
himself up again after that fierce bout; and considering, with much
dubitation, What is the next thing? "Go in upon Noailles [who is
still hanging about here, with Broglio coming on in the exploded
state]; wreck Broglio and him! Go in upon the French!" so urges
Stair always: rash Stair, urgent to the edge of importunity;
English Officers and Martial Boy urgently backing Stair; while the
Hanoverian Officers and Martial Parent are steady to the other
view. So that, in respect of War, the next thing, for two months
coming, was absolutely nothing, and to the end of the Campaign was
nothing worth a moment's notice from us. But on the Diplomatic
side, there were two somethings, CONFERENCES AT HANAU with poor
Kaiser Karl, and TREATY AT WORMS with the King of Sardinia;
which--as minus quantities, or things less than nothing--turned out
to be highly considerable for his Britannic Majesty and us.

HANAU, 7th July-1st AUGUST, 1743. "Poor Kaiser Karl had left
Augsburg June 26th,--while his Broglio was ferrying at Donauworth,
and his Seckendorf treatying for Armistice at Nieder-Schonfeld,--
the very day before Dettingen. What a piece of news to him, that
Dettingen, on his return to Frankfurt!

"A few days after Dettingen, July 3d, Noailles, who is still within
call, came across to see this poor stepson of Fortune;
gives piteous account of him, if any one were now curious on that
head: How he bitterly complains of Broglio, of the no-subsidies
sent, and is driven nearly desperate;--not a penny in his pocket,
beyond all. Upon which latter clause Noailles munificently advanced
him a $6,000. 'Draught of 40,000 crowns, in my own name; which
doubtless the King, in his compassion, will see good to sanction.'
[<italic> Campagnes de Noailles <end italic> (Amsterdam, 1760:
this is a Sequel, or rather VICE VERSA, to that which we have
called DES TROIS MARECHAUX, being of the same Collection),
i. 316-328.] His feelings on the loss of Dettingen may be pictured.
But he had laid his account with such things;--prepared for the
worst, since that Interview with Broglio and Conti; one plan now
left, 'Peace, cost what it will!'

"The poor Kaiser had already, as we saw, got into hopes of
bargaining with his Britannic Majesty; and now he instantly sets
about it, while Hanau is victorious head-quarters. Britannic
Majesty is not himself very forward; but Carteret, I rather judge,
had taken up the notion; and on his Majesty's and Carteret's part,
there is actually the wish and attempt to pacificate the Reich;
to do something tolerable for the poor Kaiser, as well as
satisfactory to the Hungarian Majesty,--satisfactory, or capable of
being (by the Purse-holder) insisted on as such.

"And so the Landgraf of Hessen, excellent Wilhelm, King George's
friend and gossip, is come over to that little Town of Hanau, which
is his own, in the Schloss of which King George is lodged:
and there, between Carteret and our Landgraf,--the King of
Prussia's Ambassador (Herr Klinggraf), and one or two selectly
zealous Official persons, assisting or watching,--we have
'Conferences of Hanau' going on; in a zealous fashion; all parties
eager for Peace to Kaiser and Reich, and in good hope of bringing
it about. The wish, ardent to a degree, had been the Kaiser's first
of all. The scheme, I guess, was chiefly of Carteret's devising;
who, in his magnificent mind, regardless of expense, thinks it may
be possible, and discerns well what a stroke it will be for the
Cause of Liberty, and how glorious for a Britannic Majesty's
Adviser in such circumstances. July 7th, the Conferences began;
and, so frank and loyal were the parties, in a week's time matters
were advanced almost to completion, the fundamental outlines of a
bargain settled, and almost ready for signing.

"'Give me my Bavaria again!' the Kaiser had always said: 'I am Head
of the Reich, and have nothing to live upon!' On one preliminary,
Carteret had always been inexorable: 'Have done with your French
auxiliaries; send every soul of them home; the German soil once
cleared of them, much will be possible; till then nothing.'
KAISER: 'Well, give me back my Bavaria; my Bavaria, and something
suitable to live upon, as Head of the Reich: some decent Annual
Pension, till Bavaria come into paying condition,--cannot you, who
are so wealthy? And Bavaria might be made a Kingdom, if you wished
to do the handsome thing. I will renounce my Austrian Pretensions,
quit utterly my French Alliances; consent to have her Hungarian
Majesty's august Consort made King of the Romans [which means
Kaiser after me], and in fact be very safe to the House of Austria
and the Cause of Liberty.' To all this the thrice-unfortunate
gentleman, titular Emperor of the World, and unable now to pay his
milk-scores, is eager to consent. To continue crossing the Abysses
on bridges of French rainbow? Nothing but French subsidies to
subsist on; and these how paid,--Noailles's private pocket knows
how! 'I consent,' said the Kaiser; 'will forgive and forget, and
bygones shall be bygones all round!' 'Fair on his Imperial
Majesty's part,' admits Carteret; 'we will try to be persuasive at
Vienna. Difficult, but we will try.' In a meek matters had come to
this point; and the morrow, July 15th, was appointed for signing.
Most important of Protocols, foundation-stone of Peace to
Teutschland; King Friedrich and the impartial Powers approving,
with Britannic George and drawn sword presiding.

"King Friedrich approves heartily; and hopes it will do.
Landgraf Wilhelm is proud to have saved his Kaiser,--who so glad as
the Landgraf and his Kaiser? Carteret, too, is very glad;
exulting, as he well may, to have composed these world-deliriums,
or concentrated them upon peccant France, he with his single head,
and to have got a value out of that absurd Pragmatic Army, after
all. A man of magnificent ideas; who hopes 'to bring Friedrich over
to his mind;' to unite poor Teutschland against such Oriflamme
Invasions and intolerable interferences, and to settle the account
of France for a long while. He is the only English Minister who
speaks German, knows German situations, interests, ways; or has the
least real understanding of this huge German Imbroglio in which
England is voluntarily weltering. And truly, had Carteret been King
of England, which he was not,--nay, had King Friedrich ever got to
understand, instead of misunderstand, what Carteret WAS,--here
might have been a considerable affair!

"But it now, at the eleventh hour, came upon magnificent Carteret,
now seemingly for the first time in its full force, That he
Carteret was not the master; that there was a bewildered Parliament
at home, a poor peddling Duke of Newcastle leader of the same, with
his Lords of the Regency, who could fatally put a negative on all
this, unless they were first gained over. On the morrow, July 15th,
Carteret, instead of signing, as expected, has to--purpose a
fortnight's delay till he consult in England! Absolutely would not
and could not sign, till a Courier to England went and returned.
To Landgraf Wilhelm's, to Klinggraf's and the Kaiser's very great
surprise, disappointment and suspicion. But Carteret was
inflexible: 'will only take a fortnight,' said he; 'and I can hope
all will yet be well!'

"The Courier came back punctually in a fortnight. His Message was
presented at Hanau, August 1st,--and ran conclusively to the
effect: 'No! We, Noodle of Newcastle, and my other Lords of
Regency, do not consent; much less, will undertake to carry the
thing through Parliament: By no manner of means!' So that
Carteret's lately towering Affair had to collapse ignominiously, in
that manner; poor Carteret protesting his sorrow, his unalterable
individual wishes and future endeavors, not to speak of his
Britannic Majesty's,--and politely pressing on the poor Kaiser a
gift of 15,000 pounds (first weekly instalment of the 'Annual
Pension' that HAD, in theory, been set apart for him); which the
Kaiser, though indigent, declined. [Adelung, iii. B, 206, 209-212;
see Coxe, <italic> Memoirs of Pelham  <end italic> (London, 1829),
i. 75, 469.]'

"The disgust of Landgraf Wilhelm was infinite; who, honest man, saw
in all this merely an artifice of Carteret's, To undo the Kaiser
with his French Allies, to quirk him out of his poor help from the
French, and have him at their mercy. 'Shame on it!' cried Landgraf
Wilhelm aloud, and many others less aloud, Klinggraf and King
Friedrich among them: 'What a Carteret!' The Landgraf turned away
with indignation from perfidious England; and began forming quite
opposite connections. 'You shall not even have my hired 6,000, you
perfidious! Thing done with such dexterity of art, too!' thought
the Landgraf,--and continued to think, till evidence turned up,
after many months. [CARTERET PAPERS (in British Museum), Additional
MSS. No. 22,529 (May, 1743-January, 1745); in No. 22,527 (January-
September, 1742) are other Landgraf-Wilhelm pieces of
Correspondence.] This was Friedrich's opinion too,-- permanently, I
believe;--and that of nearly all the world, till the thing and the
Doer of the thing were contemptuously forgotten. A piece of
Machiavelism on the part of Carteret and perfidious Albion,--equal
in refined cunning to that of the Ships with foul bottom, which
vanished from Cadiz two years ago, and were admired with a shudder
by Continental mankind who could see into millstones!

"This is the second stroke of Machiavellian Art by those Islanders,
in their truly vulpine method. Stroke of Art important for this
History; and worth the attention of English readers,--being almost
of pathetic nature, when one comes to understand it! Carteret, for
this Hanau business, had clangor enough to undergo, poor man, from
Germans and from English; which was wholly unjust. 'His trade,' say
the English--(or used to say, till they forgot their considerable
Carteret altogether)--'was that of rising in the world by feeding
the mad German humors of little George; a miserable trade.' Yes, my
friends;--but it was not quite Carteret's, if you will please to
examine! And none say, Carteret did not do his trade, whatever it
was, with a certain greatness,--at least till habits of drinking
rather took him, Poor man: impatient, probably, of such fortune
long continued! For he was thrown out, next Session of Parliament,
by Noodle of Newcastle, on those strange terms; and never could get
in again, and is now forgotten; and there succeeded him still more
mournful phenomena,--said Noodle or the poor Pelhams, namely,--of
whom, as of strauge minus quantities set to manage our affairs,
there is still some dreary remembrance in England. Well!"--

Carteret, though there had been no Duke of Newcastle to run athwart
this fine scheme, would have had his difficulties in making her
Hungarian Majesty comply. Her Majesty's great heart, incurably
grieved about Silesia, is bent on having, if not restoration one
day, which is a hope she never quits, at any rate some ample
(cannot be too ample) equivalent elsewhere. On the Hanau scheme,
united Teutschland, with England for soul to it, would have fallen
vigorously on the throat of France, and made France disgorge:
Lorraine, Elsass, the Three Bishoprics,--not to think of Burgundy,
and earlier plunders from the Reich,--here would have been "cut and
come again" for her Hungarian Majesty and everybody!--But Diana, in
the shape of his Grace of Newcastle, intervenes; and all this has
become chimerical and worse.

It was while Carteret's courier was gone to England and not come
back, that King Louis made the above-mentioned mild, almost
penitent, Declaration to the Reich, "Good people, let us have
Peace; and all be as we were! I, for my share, wish to be out of
it; I am for home!" And, in effect, was already home;
every Frenchman in arms being, by this time, on his own side of the
Rhine, as we shall presently observe.

For, the same day, July 26th, while that was going on at Frankfurt,
and Carteret's return-courier was due in five days, his Britannic
Majesty at Hanau had a splendid visit,--tending not towards Peace
with France, but quite the opposite way. Visit from Prince Karl,
with Khevenhuller and other dignitaries; doing us that honor "till
the evening of the 28th." Quitting their Army,--which is now in
these neighborhoods (Broglio well gone to air ahead of it;
Noailles too, at the first sure sniff of it, having rushed double-
quick across the Rhine),--these high Gentlemen have run over to us,
for a couple of days, to "congratulate on Dettingen;" or, better 
still, to consult, face to face, about ulterior movements. "Follow
Noailles; transfer the seat of war to France itself? These are my
orders, your Majesty. Combined Invasion of Elsass: what a slash may
be made into France [right handselling of your Carteret Scheme]
this very year!" "Proper, in every case!" answers the Britannic
Majesty; and engages to co-operate. Upon which Prince Karl--after
the due reviewing, dinnering, ceremonial blaring, which was
splendid to witness [Anonymous, <italic> Duke of Cumberland, <end
italic> pp. 65, 86.]--hastens back to his Army (now lying about
Baden Durlach, 70,000 strong); and ought to be swift, while the
chance lasts.


These are fine prospects, in the French quarter, of an equivalent
for Schlesien;--very fine, unless Diana intervene! Diana or not,
French prospects or not, her Hungarian Majesty fastens on Bavaria
with uncommon tightness of fist, now that Bavaria is swept clear;
well resolved to keep Bavaria for equivalent, till better come.
Exacts, by her deputy, Homage from the Population there;
strict Oath of Fealty to HER; poor Kaiser protesting his uttermost,
to no purpose; Kaiser's poor Printer (at Regensburg, which is in
Bavaria) getting "tried and hanged" for printing such Protest!
"She draughts forcibly the Bavarian militias into her Italian
Army;" is high and merciless on all hands;--in a word, throttles
poor Bavaria, as if to the choking of it outright. So that the very
Gazetteers in foreign places gave voice, though Bavaria itself,
such a grasp on the throat of it, was voiceless. Seckendorf's poor
Bargain for neutrality as a Bavarian Reich-Army, her Hungarian
Majesty disdains to confirm; to confirm, or even to reject;
treats Seckendorf and his Bavarian Army little otherwise than as a
stray dog which she has not yet shot. And truly the old
Feldmarschall lies at Wembdingen, in most disconsolate moulting
condition; little or nothing to live upon;--the English, generous
creatures, had at one time flung him something, fancying the
Armistice might be useful; but now it must be the French that do
it, if anybody! [Adelung, iii. B, 204 ("22d Angust"), 206, &c.]

Hanau Conferences having failed, these things do not fail.
Kaiser Karl is become tragical to think of. A spectacle of pity to
Landgraf Wilhelm, to King Friedrich, and serious on-lookers;--and
perhaps not of pity only, but of "pity and fear" to some of them!--
sullen Austria taking its sweet revenges, in this fashion.
Readers who will look through these small chinks, may guess what a
world-welter this was; and how Friedrich, gazing into phase on
phase of it, as into Oracles of Fate, which to him they were, had a
History, in these months, that will now never be known.

August 16th came out her Hungarian Majesty's Response to that mild
quasi-penitent Declaration of King Louis to the Reich; and much
astonished King Louis and others, and the very Reich itself.
"Out of it?" says her Hungarian Majesty (whom we with regret, for
brevity's sake, translate from Official into vulgate): "His Most
Christian Majesty wishes to be out of it:--Does not he, the (what
shall I call him) Crowned Housebreaker taken in the fact? You shall
get out of it, please Heaven, when you have made compensation for
the damage done; and till then not, if it please Heaven!" And in
this strain (lengthily Official, though indignant to a degree)
enumerates the wanton unspeakable mischiefs and outrages which
Austria, a kind of sacred entity guaranteed by Law of Nature and
Eleven Signatures of Potentates, has suffered from the Most
Christian Majesty,--and will have compensation for, Heaven now
pointing the way! [IN EXTENSO in Adelung, iii. B, 201 et seqq.]

A most portentous Document; full of sombre emphasis, in sonorous
snuffling tone of voice; enunciating, with inflexible purpose, a
number of unexpected things: very portentous to his Prussian
Majesty among others. Forms a turning-point or crisis both in the
French War, and in his Prussian Majesty's History; and ought to be
particularly noted and dated by the careful reader. It is here that
we first publicly hear tell of Compensation, the necessity Austria
will have of Compensation,--Austria does not say expressly for
Silesia, but she says and means for loss of territory, and for all
other losses whatsoever: "Compensation for the past, and security
for the future; that is my full intention," snuffles she, in that
slow metallic tone of hers, irrevocable except by the gods.

"Compensation for the past, Security for the future:" Compensation?
what does her Hungarian Majesty mean? asked all the world;
asked Friedrich, the now Proprietor of Silesia, with peculiar
curiosity! It is the first time her Hungarian Majesty steps
articulately forward with such extraordinary Claim of Damages, as
if she alone had suffered damage;--but it is a fixed point at
Vienna, and is an agitating topic to mankind in the coming months
and years. Lorraine and the Three Bishoprics; there would be a fine
compensation. Then again, what say you to Bavaria, in lieu of the
Silesia lost? You have Bavaria by the throat; keep Bavaria, you.
Give "Kur-Baiern, Kaiser as they call him," something in the
Netherlands to live upon? Will be better out of Germany altogether,
with his French leanings. Or, give him the Kingdom of Naples,--if
once we had conquered it again? These were actual schemes,
successive, simultaneous, much occupying Carteret and the high
Heads at Vienna now and afterwards; which came all to nothing;
but should were it not impossible, be held in some remembrance
by readers.

Another still more unexpected point comes out here, in this
singular Document, publicly for the first time: Austria's feelings
in regard to the Imperial Election itself. Namely, That Austria,
considers, and has all along considered, the said Election to be
fatally vitiated by that Exclusion of the Bohemian Vote; to be in
fact nullified thereby; and that, to her clear view, the present
so-called Kaiser is an imaginary quantity, and a mere Kaiser of
French shreds and patches! "DER SEYN-SOLLENDE KAISER," snuffles
Austria in one passage, "Your Kaiser as you call him;" and in
another passage, instead of "Kaiser," puts flatly "Kur-Baiern."
This is a most extraordinary doctrine to an Electoral Romish Reich!
Is the Holy Romish Reich to DECLARE itself an "Enchanted Wiggery,"
then, and do suicide, for behoof of Austria?--

"August 16th, this extraordinary Document was delivered to the
Chancery of Mainz; and September 23d, it was, contrary to
expectation, brought to DICTATUR by said Chancery,"--of which
latter phrase, and phenomenon, here is the explanation to
English readers.

Had the late Kur-Mainz (general Arch-Chairman, Speaker of the Diet)
been still in office and existence, certainly so shocking a
Document had never been allowed "to come to DICTATUR,"--to be
dictated to the Reich's Clerks; to have a first reading, as we
should call it; or even to lie on the table, with a theoretic
chance that way. But Austria, thanks to our little George and his
Pragmatic Armament, had got a new Kur-Mainz;--by whom, in open
contempt of impartiality, and in open leaning for Austria with all
his weight, it was duly forwarded to Dictature; brought before an
astonished Diet (REICHSTAG), and endlessly argued of in Reichstag
and Reich,--with small benefit to Austria, or the new Kur-Mainz.
Wise kindness to Austria had been suppression of this Piece, not
bringing of it to Dictature at all: but the new Kur-Mainz, called
upon, and conscious of face sufficient, had not scrupled.
"Shame on you, partial Arch-Chancellor!" exclaims all the world.--
"Revoke such shamefully partial Dictature?" this was the next
question brought before the Reich. In which, Kur-Hanover (Britannic
George) was the one Elector that opined, No. Majority conclusive;
though, as usual, no settle- ment attainable. This is the famous
"DICTATUR-SACHE (Dictature Question)," which rages on us, for about
eleven months to come, in those distracted old Books; and seems as
if it would never end. Nor is there any saying when it would have
ended;--had not, in August, 1744, something else ended, the King of
Prussia's patience, namely; which enabled it to end, on the
Kaiser's then order! [Adelung, iii. B, 201, iv. 198, &c.]

It must be owned, in general, the conduct of Maria Theresa to the
Reich, ever since the Reich had ventured to reject her Husband as
Kaiser, and prefer another, was all along of a high nature; till
now it has grown into absolute contumacy, and a treating of the
Reich's elected Kaiser as a merely chimerical personage. No law of
the Reich had been violated against her Hungarian Majesty or
Husband: "What law?" asked all judges. Vicarius Kur-Sachsen sat, in
committee, hatching for many months that Question of the Kur-Bohmen
Vote; and by the prescribed methods, brought it out in the
negative,--every formality and regularity observed, and nobody but
your Austrian Deputy protesting upon it, when requested to go home.
But, the high Maria had a notion that the Reich belonged to her
august Family and her; and that all Elections to the contrary were
an inconclusive thing, fundamentally void every one of them.

Thus too, long before this, in regard to the REICHS-ARCHIV
Question. The Archives and indispensablest Official Records and
Papers of the Reich,--these had lain so long at Vienna, the high
Maria could not think of giving them up. "So difficult to extricate
what Papers are Austrian specially, from what are Austrian-
Imperial;--must have time!" answered she always. And neither the
Kaiser's more and more pressing demands, nor those of the late
Kur-Mainz, backed by the Reich, and reiterated month after month
and year after year, could avail in the matter. Mere angry
correspondences, growing ever angrier;--the Archives of the Reich
lay irrecoverable at Vienna, detained on this pretext and on that:
nor were they ever given up; but lay there till the Reich itself
had ended, much more the Kaiser Karl VII.! These are
high procedures.

As if the Reich had been one's own chattel; as if a Non-Austrian
Kaiser mere impossible, and the Reich and its laws had, even
Officially, become phantasmal! That, in fact, was Maria Theresa's
inarticulate inborn notion; and gradually, as her successes on the
field rose higher, it became ever more articulate: till this of
"the SEYN-SOLLENDE Kaiser" put a crown on it. Justifiable, if the
Reich with its Laws were a chattel, or rebellious vassal, of
Austria; not justifiable otherwise. "Hear ye?" answered almost all
the Reich (eight Kurfursts, with the one exception of Kur-Hanover:
as we observed): "Our solemnly elected Kaiser, Karl VII., is a
thing of quirks and quiddities, of French shreds and patches;
at present, it seems, the Reich has no Kaiser at all; and will go
ever deeper into anarchies and unnamabilities, till it proceed anew
to get one,--of the right Austrian type!"--The Reich is a talking
entity: King Friedrich is bound rather to silence, so long as
possible. His thoughts on these matters are not given; but sure
enough they were continual, too intense they could hardly be.
"Compensation;" "The Reich as good as mine:" Whither is all this
tending? Walrave and those Silesian Fortifyings,--let Walrave mind
his work, and get it perfected!


The "Combined Invasion of Elsass"--let us say briefly, overstepping
the order of date, and still for a moment leaving Friedrich--came
to nothing, this year. Prince Karl was 70,000; Britannic George
(when once those Dutch, crawling on all summer, had actually come
up) was 66,000,--nay 70,000; Karl having lent him that beautiful
cannibal gentleman, "Colonel Mentzel and 4,000 Tolpatches," by way
of edge-trimming. Karl was to cross in Upper Elsass, in the
Strasburg parts; Karl once across, Britannic Majesty was to cross
about Mainz, and co-operate from Lower Elsass. And they should have
been swift about it; and were not! All the world expected a severe
slash to France; and France itself had the due apprehension of it:
but France and all the world were mistaken, this time.

Prince Karl was slow with his preparations; Noailles and Coigny
(Broglio's successor) were not slow; "raising batteries
everywhere," raising lines, "10,000 Elsass Peasants," and what not;
--so that, by the time Prince Karl was ready (middle of August),
they lay intrenched and minatory at all passable points; and Karl
could nowhere, in that Upper-Rhine Country, by any method, get
across. Nothing got across; except once or twice for perhaps a day,
Butcher Trenck and his loose kennel of Pandours; who went about, 
plundering and rioting, with loud rodomontade, to the admiration of
the Gazetteers, if of no one else.

Nor was George's seconding of important nature; most dubitative,
wholly passive, you would rather say, though the River, in his
quarter, lay undefended. He did, at last, cross the Rhine about
Mainz; went languidly to Worms,--did an ever-memorable TREATY OF
WORMS there, if no fighting there or elsewhere. Went to Speyer,
where the Dutch joined him (sadly short of numbers stipulated, had
it been the least matter);--was at Germersheim, at what other
places I forget; manoeuvring about in a languid and as if in an
aimless manner, at least it was in a perfectly ineffectual one.
Mentzel rode gloriously to Trarbach, into Lorraine; stuck up
Proclamation, "Hungarian Majesty come, by God's help, for her own
again," and the like;--of which Document, now fallen rare, we give
textually the last line: "And if any of you DON'T [don't sit quiet
at least], I will," to be brief, "first cut off your ears and
noses, and then hang you out of hand." The singular Champion of
Christendom, famous to the then Gazetteers! [In Adelung (iii. B,
193) the Proclamation at large. I have, or once had, a <italic>
Life of Mentzel <end italic> (Dublin, I think, 1744), "price
twopence,"--dear at the money.] Nothing farther could George, with
his Dutch now adjoined, do in those parts, but wriggle slightly to
and fro without aim; or stand absolutely still, and eat provision
(great uncertainty and discrepancy among the Generals, and Stair
gone in a huff [Went, "August 27th, by Worms" (Henderson, <italic>
Life of Cumberlund, <end italic> p. 48), just while his Majesty was
beginning to cross.]),--till at length the "Combined Pragmatic
Troops" returned to Mainz (October 11th); and thence, dreadfully in
ill-humor with each other, separated into their winter-quarters in
the Netherlands and adjacent regions.

Prince Karl tried hard in several places; hardest at, Alt-Breisach,
far up the River, with Swabian Freiburg for his place of arms;--an
Austrian Country all that, "Hithcr Austria," Swabian Austria.
There, at Alt-Breisach, lay Prince Karl (24th August-3d September),
his left leaning on that venerable sugar-loaf Hill, with the towers
and ramparts on the top of it; looking wistfully into Alsace, if
there were no way of getting at it. He did get once half-way across
the River, lodging himself in an Island called Rheinmark; but could
get no farther, owing to the Noailles-Coigny preparations for him.
Called a Council of War; decided that he had not Magazines, that it
was too late in the season; and marched home again (October 12th)
through the Schwabenland; leaving, besides the strong Garrison of
Freiburg, only Trenck with 12,000 Pandours to keep the Country open
for us, against next year. Britannic Majesty, as we observed, did
then, almost simultaneously, in like manner march home; [Adelung,
iii. B, 192, 215; Anonymous, <italic> Cumberland, <end italic>
p. 121.]--one goal is always clear when the day sinks: Make for
your quarters, for your bed.

Prince Karl was gloriously wedded, this Winter, to her Hungarian
Majesty's young Sister;--glorious meed of War; and, they say, a
union of hearts withal;--Wife and he to have Brussels for
residence, and be "Joint-Governors of the Netherlands" henceforth.
Stout Khevenhuller, almost during the rejoicings, took fever, and
suddenly died; to the great sorrow of her Majesty, for loss of such
a soldier and man. [<italic> Maria Theresiens Leben, <end italic>
pp. 94, 45.] Britannic Majesty has not been successful with his
Pragmatic Army. He did get his new Kur-Mainz, who has brought the
Austrian Exorbitancy to a first reading, and into general view.
He did get out of the Dettingen mouse-trap; and, to the admiration
of the Gazetteer mind, and (we hope) envy of Most Christian
Majesty, he has, regardless of expense, played Supreme Jove on the
German boards for above three months running. But as to Settlement
of the German Quarrel, he has done nothing at all, and even a good
deal less! Let me commend to readers this little scrap of Note;
  1. There is one ready method of pacificating Germany: That his
Britannic Majesty should firmly button his breeches-pocket, 'Not
one sixpence more, Madam!'--and go home to his bed, if he find no
business waiting him at home. Has not he always the EAR-OF-JENKINS
Question, and the Cause of Liberty in that succinct form. But, in
Germany, sinews of war being cut, law of gravitation would at once
act; and exorbitant Hungarian Majesty, tired France, and all else,
would in a brief space of time lapse into equilibrium, probably of
the more stable kind.
  2. Or, if you want to save the Cause of Liberty on a grand scale,
there are those HANAU CONFERENCES,--Carteret's magnificent scheme:
A united Teutschland (England inspiring it), to rush on the throat
of France, for 'Compensation,' for universal salving of sores.
This second method, Diana having intervened, is gone to water, and
even to poisoned water. So that,
  3". There was nothing left for poor Carteret but a TREATY OF
WORMS (concerning which, something more explicit by and by):
A Teutschland (the English, doubly and trebly inspiring it, as
surely they will now need!) to rush as aforesaid, in the DISunited
and indeed nearly internecine state. Which third method--unless
Carteret can conquer Naples for the Kaiser, stuff the Kaiser into
some satisfactory 'Netherlands' or the like, and miraculously do
the unfeasible (Fortune perhaps favoring the brave)--may be called
the unlikely one! As poor Carteret probably guesses, or dreads;--
had he now any choice left. But it was love's last shift! And, by
aid of Diana and otherwise, that is the posture in which, at Mainz,
11th October, 1743, we leave the German Question."

"Compensation," from France in particular, is not to be had gratis,
it appears. Somewhere or other it must be had! Complaining once, as
she very often does, to her Supreme Jove, Hungarian Majesty had
written: "Why, oh, why did you force me to give up Silesia!"--
Supreme Jove answers (at what date I never knew, though Friedrich
knows it, and "has copy of the Letter"): "Madam, what was good to
give is good to take back (CC QUI EST BON A PRENDRE EST BON A
RENDRE)!" [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 27.]

Chapter VI.

In the last days of August, there appears at Berlin M. de Voltaire,
on his Fourth Visit:--thrice and four times welcome; though this
time, privately, in a somewhat unexpected capacity. Come to try his
hand in the diplomatic line; to sound Friedrich a little, on behalf
of the distressed French Ministry. That, very privately indeed, is
Voltaire's errand at present; and great hopes hang by it for
Voltaire, if he prove adroit enough.

Poor man, it had turned out he could not get his Academy Diploma,
after all,--owing again to intricacies and heterodoxies. King Louis
was at first willing, indifferent; nay the Chateauroux was willing:
but orthodox parties persuaded his Majesty; wicked Maurepas (the
same who lasted till the Revolution time) set his face against it;
Maurepas, and ANC. de Mirepoix (whom they wittily call "ANE" or Ass
of Mirepoix, that sour opaque creature, lately monk), were
industrious exceedingly; and put veto on Voltaire. A stupid Bishop
was preferred to him for filling up the Forty. Two Bishops
magnanimously refused; but one was found with ambitious stupidity
enough: Voltaire, for the third time, failed in this small matter,
to him great. Nay, in spite of that kiss in MEROPE, he could not
get his MORT DE CESAR acted; cabals rising; ANCIEN de Mirepoix
rising; Orthodoxy, sour Opacity prevailing again. To Madame and him
(though finely caressed in the Parisian circles) these were
provoking months;--enough to make a man forswear Literature, and
try some other Jacob's-Ladder in this world. Which Voltaire had
actual thoughts of, now and then. We may ask, Are these things of a
nature to create love of the Hierarchy in M. de Voltaire?
"Your Academy is going to be a Seminary of Priests," says
Friedrich. The lynx-eyed animal,--anxiously asking itself,
"Whitherward, then, out of such a mess?"--walks warily about, with
its paws of velvet; but has, IN POSSE, claws under them, for
certain individuals and fraternities.

Nor, alas, is the Du Chatelet relation itself so celestial as it
once was. Madame has discovered, think only with what feelings,
that this great man does not love her as formerly! The great man
denies, ready to deny on the Gospels, to her and to himself;
and yet, at bottom, if we read with the microscope, there are
symptoms, and it is not deniable. How should it? Leafy May, hot
June, by degrees comes October, sere, yellow; and at last, a quite
leafless condition,--not Favonius, but gray Northeast, with its
hail-storms (jealousies, barren cankered gusts), your main wind
blowing. "EMILIE FAIT DE L'ALGEBRE," sneers he once, in an
inadvertent moment, to some Lady-friend: "Emilie doing? Emilie is
doing Algebra; that is Emilie's employment,--which will be of great
use to her in the affairs of Life, and of great charm in Society."
[Letter of Voltaire "To Madame Chambonin," end of 1742
(<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> Edition in 40 vols., Paris, 1818,
xxxii. 148);--is MISSED in the later Edition (97 vols., Paris,
1837), to which our habitual reference is.] Voltaire (if you read
with the microscope) has, on this side also, thoughts of being off.
"Off on this side?" Madame flies mad, becomes Megaera, at the
mention or suspicion of it! A jealous, high-tempered Algebraic
Lady. They have had to tell her of this secret Mission to Berlin;
and she insists on being the conduit, all the papers to pass
through her hands here at Paris, during the great man's absence.
Fixed northeast; that is, to appearance, the domestic wind blowing!
And I rather judge, the great man is glad to get away for a time.

This Quasi-Diplomatic Speculation, one perceives, is much more
serious, on the part both of Voltaire and of the Ministry, than any
of the former had been. And, on Voltaire's part, there glitter
prospects now and then of something positively Diplomatic, of a
real career in that kind, lying ahead for him. Fond hopes these!
But among the new Ministers, since Fleury's death, are Amelot, the
D'Argensons, personal friends, old school-fellows of the poor
hunted man, who are willing he should have shelter from such a
pack; and all French Ministers, clutching at every floating spar,
in this their general shipwreck in Germany, are aware of the uses
there might be in him, in such crisis. "Knows Friedrich;
might perhaps have some power in persuading him,--power in spying
him at any rate. Unless Friedrich do step forward again, what is to
become of us!"--The mutual hintings, negotiatings, express
interviews, bargainings and secret-instructions, dimly traceable in
Voltaire's LETTERS, had been going on perhaps since May last, time
of those ACADEMY failures, of those Broglio Despatches from the
Donau Countries, "No staying here, your Majesty!"--and I think it
was, in fact, about the time when Broglio blew up like gunpowder
and tumbled home on the winds, that Voltaire set out on his
mission. "Visit to Friedrich," they call it;--"invitation" from
Friedrich there is, or can, on the first hint, at any point of the
Journey be.

Voltaire has lingered long on the road; left Paris, middle of June;
[His Letters (<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> lxxiii. 42, 48).] but
has been exceedingly exerting himself, in the Hague, at Brussels,
and wherever else present, in the way of forwarding his errand,
Spying, contriving, persuading; corresponding to right and left,--
corresponding, especially much, with the King of Prussia himself,
and then with "M. Amelot, Secretary of State," to report progress
to the best advantage. There are curious elucidative sparks, in
those Voltaire Letters, chaotic as they are; small sparks,
elucidative, confirmatory of your dull History Books, and adding
traits, here and there, to the Image you have formed from them.
Yielding you a poor momentary comfort; like reading some riddle of
no use; like light got incidentally, by rubbing dark upon dark (say
Voltaire flint upon Dryasdust gritstone), in those labyrinthic
catacombs, if you are doomed to travel there. A mere weariness,
otherwise, to the outside reader, hurrying forward,--to the light
French Editor, who can pass comfortably on wings or balloons!
[<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> lxxiii. pp. 40-138. Clogenson, a
Dane (whose Notes, signed "Clog.," are in all tolerable recent
Editions), has, alone among the Commentators of Voltaire's LETTERS,
made some real attempt towards explaining the many passages that
are fallen unintelligible. "Clog.," travelling on foot, with his
eyes open, is--especially on German-History points--incomparable
and unique, among his French comrades going by balloon; and drops a
rational or half-rational hint now and then, which is meritoriously
helpful. Unhappily he is by no means well-read in that German
matter, by no means always exact; nor indeed ever quite to be
trusted without trial had.] Voltaire's assiduous finessings with
the Hague Diplomatist People, or with their Secretaries if
bribable; nay, with the Dutch Government itself ("through channels
which I have opened,"--with infinitesimally small result); his
spyings ("young Podewils," Minister here, Nephew of the Podewils we
have known, "young Podewils in intrigue with a Dutch Lady of rank:"
think of that, your Excellency); his preparatory subtle
correspondings with Friedrich: his exquisite manoeuvrings, and
really great industries in the small way:--all this, and much else,
we will omit. Impatient of these preludings, which have been many!
Thus, at one point, Voltaire "took a FLUXION" (catarrhal, from the
nose only), when Friedrich was quite ready; then, again, when
Voltaire was ready, and the fluxion off, Friedrich had gone upon
his Silesian Reviews: in short, there had been such cross-purposes,
tedious delays, as are distressing to think of;--and we will say
only, that M. de Voltaire did actually, after the conceivable
adventures, alight in the Berlin Schloss (last day of August, as I
count); welcomed, like no other man, by the Royal Landlord there;
--and that this is the Fourth Visit; and has (in strict privacy)
weightier intentions than any of the foregoing, on M. de
Voltaire's part.

Voltaire had a glorious reception; apartment near the King's;
King gliding in, at odd moments, in the beautifulest way; and for
seven or eight days, there was, at Berlin and then at Potsdam, a
fine awakening of the sphere-harmonies between them, with touches
of practicality thrown in as suited. Of course it was not long
till, on some touch of that latter kind, Friedrich discerned what
the celestial messenger had come upon withal;--a dangerous moment
for M. de Voltaire, "King visibly irritated," admits he, with the
aquiline glance transfixing him! "Alas, your Majesty, mere excess
of loyalty, submission, devotion, on my poor part! Deign to think,
may not this too,--in the present state of my King, of my Two
Kings, and of all Europe,--be itself a kind of spheral thing?"
So that the aquiline lightning was but momentary; and abated to
lambent twinklings, with something even of comic in them, as we
shall gather. Voltaire had his difficulties with Valori, too;
"What interloping fellow is this?" gloomed Valori, "A devoted
secretary of your Excellency's; on his honor, nothing more!"
answered Voltaire, bowing to the ground:--and strives to behave as
such; giving Valori "these poor Reports of mine to put in cipher,"
and the like. Very slippery ice hereabouts for the adroit man!
His reports to Amelot are of sanguine tone; but indicate, to the
by-stander, small progress; ice slippery, and a twinkle of the
comic. Many of them are lost (or lie hidden in the French Archives,
and are not worth disinterring): but here is one, saved by
Beaumarchais and published long afterwards, which will sufficiently
bring home the old scene to us. In the Palace of Berlin or else of
Potsdam (date must be, 6th-8th September, 1743), Voltaire from his
Apartment hands in a "Memorial" to Friedrich; and gets it back with
Marginalia,--as follows:

"Would your Majesty be pleased to have the kind condescension
(ASSEZ DE BONTE) to put on the margin your reflections and orders." 

"1. Your Majesty is to know that the Sieur Bassecour [signifies
BACKYARD], chief Burghermaster of Amsterdam, has come lately to beg
M. de la Ville, French Minister there, to make Proposals of Peace.
La Ville answered, If the Dutch had offers to make, the King his
master could hear them.

"1. This Bassecour, or Backyard, seems to be the gentleman that
has charge of fattening the capons and turkeys for their
High Mightinesses?

"2. Is it not clear that the Peace Party will infallibly carry it,
in Holland,--since Bassecour, one of the most determined for War, 
begins to speak of Peace? Is it not clear that France shows vigor
and wisdom?

"2. I admire the wisdom of France; but God preserve me from ever
imitating it!

"3. In these circumstances, if your Majesty took the tone of a
Master, gave example to the Princes of the Empire in assembling an
Army of Neutrality,--would not you snatch the sceptre of Europe
from the hands of the English, who now brave you, and speak in an
insolent revolting manner of your Majesty, as do, in Holland also,
the party of the Bentincks, the Fagels, the Opdams? I have myself
heard them, and am reporting nothing but what is very true.

"3. This would be finer in an ode than in actual reality. I disturb
myself very little about what the Dutch and English say, the rather
as I understand nothing of those dialects (PATOIS) of theirs.

"4. Do not you cover yourself with an immortal glory in declaring
yourself, with effect, the protector of the Empire? And is it not
of most pressing interest to your Majesty, to hinder the English
from making your Enemy the Grand-Duke [Maria Theresa's Husband]
King of the Romans?

"4. France has more interest than Prussia to hinder that. Besides,
on this point, dear Voltaire, you are ill informed. For there can
be no Election of a King of the Romans without the unanimous
consent of the Empire;--so you perceive, that always depends on me.

"5. Whoever has spoken but a quarter of an hour to the Duke
d'Ahremberg [who spilt Lord Stair's fine enterprises lately, and
reduced them to a DETTINGEN, or a getting into the mouse-trap and a
getting out], to the Count Harrach [important Austrian Official],
Lord Stair, or any of the partisans of Austria, even for a quarter
of an hour [as I have often done], has beard them say, That they
burn with desire to open the campaign in Silesia again. Have you in
that case, Sire, any ally but France? And, however potent you are,
is an ally useless to you? You know the resources of the House of
Austria, and how many Princes are united to it. But will they
resist your power, joined to that of the House of Bourbon?

"5. <italic> On les y recevra, Biribi,
A la facon de Barbari, Mon ami. <end italic>
We will receive them, Twiddledee,
In the mode of Barbary, Don't you see?
[Form of Song, very fashionable at Paris (see Barbier soepius) in
those years: "BIRIBI," I believe, is a kind of lottery-game.]

"6. If you were but to march a body of troops to Cleves, do not you
awaken terror and respect, without apprehension that any one dare
make war on you? Is it not, on the contrary, the one method of
forcing the Dutch to concur, under your orders, in the pacification
of the Empire, and re-establishment of the Emperor, who will thus a
second time he indebted to you for his throne, and will aid in the
splendor of yours?

"6. <italic> Vous voulez qu'en vrai dieu de la machine, <end italic>
"You will have me as theatre-god, then,
<italic> "J'arrive pour te denouement? <end italic>
"Swoop in, and produce the catastrophe?
<italic> "Qu'aux Anglais, aux Pandours, a ce peuple insolent,
"J'aille donner la discipline?-- <end italic>
"Tame to sobriety those English, those Pandours, and obstreperous
<italic> "Mais examinez mieux ma mine; <end italic>
"Examine the look of me better;
<italic> "Je ne suis pas assez mechant! <end italic>
"I have not surliness euough.

"7. Whatever resolution may be come to, will your Majesty deign to
confide it to me, and impart the result,--to your servant, to him
who desires to pass his life at your Court? May I have the honor to
accompany your Majesty to Baireuth; and if your goodness go so far,
would you please to declare it, that I may have time to prepare for
the journey? One favorable word written to me in the Letter on that
occasion [word favorable to France, ostensible to M. Amelot and the
most Christian Majesty], one word would suffice to procure me the
happiness I have, for six years, been aspiring to, of living
beside you." Oh, send it!

"7. If you like to come to Baireuth, I shall be glad to see you
there, provided the journey don't derange your health. It will
depend on yourself, then, to take what measures you please.
[And about the ostensible WORD,--Nothing!]

"8. During the short stay I am now to make, if I could be made the
bearer of some news agreeable to my Court, I would supplicate your
Majesty to honor me with such a commission. [This does not want for
impudence, Monsieur! Friedrich answers, from aloft!]

"8. I am not in any connection with France; I have nothing to fear
nor to hope from France. If you would like, I will make a Panegyric
on Louis XV. without a word of truth in it: but as to political
business, there is, at present, none to bring us together;
and neither is it I that am to speak first. When they put a
question to me, it will he time to reply: but you, who are so much
a man of sense, you see well what a ridiculous business it would he
if, without ground given me, I set to prescribing projects of
policy to France, and even put them on paper with my own hand!

"9. Do whatsoever you may please, I shall always love your Majesty
with my whole heart."

"9. I love you with all my heart; I esteem you: I will do all to
have you, except follies, and things which would make me forever
ridiculous over Europe, and at bottom would he contrary to my
interests and my glory. The only commission I can give you for
France, is to advise them to behave with more wisdom than they have
done hitherto. That Monarchy is a body with much strength, but
without, soul or energy (NERF)."

And so you may give it to Valori to put in cipher, my illustrious
Messenger from the Spheres. [<italic> OEuvres de Voltaire, <end
italic> lxxiii. 101-105 (see Ib. ii. 55); <italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> xxii. 141-144.]

Worth reading, this, rather well. Very kingly, and characteristic
of the young Friedrich. Saved by Beaumarchais, who did not give it
in his famous Kehl Edition of VOLTAIRE, but "had it in Autograph
ever after, and printed it in his DECADE PHILOSOPHIQUE, 10
Messidor, An vii. [Summer, 1799j: Beaumarchais had several other
Pieces of the same sort;" which, as bits of contemporary
photographing, one would have liked to see.


This "BIRIBI" Document, I suppose to have been delivered perhaps on
the 7th; and that Friedrich HAD it, but had not yet answered it,
when he wrote the following Letter:--

"POTSDAM, 8th SEPTEMBER, 1743 [Friedrich to Voltaire].--I dare not
speak to a son of Apollo about horses and carriages, relays and
such things; these are details with which the gods do not concern
themselves, and which we mortals take upon us. You will set out on
Monday afternoon, if you like the journey, for Baireuth, and you
will dine with me in passing, if you please [at Potsdam here].

"The rest of my MEMOIRE [Paper before given?] is so blurred and in
so bad a state, I cannot yet send it you.--I am getting Cantos 8
and 9 of LA PUCELLE copied; I at present have Cantos 1, 2, 4, 5, 8
and 9: I keep them under three keys, that the eye of mortal may not
see them.

"I hear you supped yesternight in good company [great gathering in
some high house, gone all asunder now];

"The finest wits of the Canton
All collected in your name,
People all who could not but be pleased with you,
All devout believers in Voltaire,
Unanimously took you
For the god of their Paradise.

"'Paradise,' that you may not be scandalized, is taken here in a
general sense for a place of pleasure and joy. See the 'remark' on
the last verse of the MONDAIN." [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end
italic> xxii. 144; Voltaire, lxxiii. 100 (scandalously MISdated in
Edition 1818, xxxix. 466). As to MONDAIN, and "remark" upon it,--
the ghost of what was once a sparkle of successful coterie-speech
and epistolary allusion,--take this: "In the MONDAIN Voltaire had
written, 'LE PARADIS TERRESTRE EST OU JE SUIS;' and as the Priests
made outcry, had with airs of orthodoxy explained the phrase away,"
--as Friedrich now affects to do; obliquely quizzing, in the
Friedrich manner.

Voltaire is to go upon the Baireuth Journey, then, according to
prayer. Whether Voltaire ever got that all-important "word which he
could show," I cannot say: though there is some appearance that
Friedrich may have dashed off for him the Panegyric of Louis, in
these very hours, to serve his turn, and have done with him.
Under date 7th September, day before the Letter just read, here are
snatches from another to the same address:--

"POTSDAM, 7th SEPTEMBER, 1743 [Friedrich to Voltaire].--You tell me
so much good of France and of its King, it were to be wished all
Sovereigns had subjects like you, and all Commonwealths such
citizens,--[you can show that, I suppose?] What a pity France and
Sweden had not had Military Chiefs of your way of thinking! But it
is very certain, say what you will, that the feebleness of their
Generals, and the timidity of their counsels, have almost ruined in
public repute two Nations which, not half a century ago, inspired
terror over Europe."--... "Scandalous Peace, that of Fleury, in
1735; abandoning King Stanislaus, cheating Spain, cheating
Sardinia, to get Lorraine! And now this manner of abandoning the
Emperor [respectable Karl VII. of your making]; sacrificing
Bavaria; and reducing that worthy Prince to the lowest poverty,--
poverty, I say not, of a Prince, but into the frightfulest state
for a private man!" Ah, Monsieur.

"And yet your France is the most charming of Nations; and if it is
not feared, it deserves well to be loved. A King worthy to command
it, who governs sagely, and acquires for himself the esteem of all
Europe,--[there, won't that do!] may restore its ancient splendor,
which the Broglios, and so many others even more inept, have a
little eclipsed. That is assuredly a work worthy of a Prince
endowed with such gifts! To reverse the sad posture of affairs,
nobly repairing what others have spoiled; to defend his country
against furious enemies, reducing them to beg Peace, instead of
scornfully rejecting it when offered: never was more glory
acquirable by any King! I shall admire whatsoever this great man
[CE GRAND HOMME, Louis XV., not yet visibly tending to the dung-
heap, let us hope better things!] may achieve in that way; and of
all the Sovereigns of Europe none will be less jealous of his
success than I:"--there, my spheral friend, show that!
[<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xxii. 139: see, for
what followed, <italic> OEuvres de Voltaire, <end italic> lxxiii.
129 (report to Amelot, 27th October).]

Which the spheral friend does. Nor was it "irony," as the new
Commentators think; not at all; sincere enough, what you call
sincere;--Voltaire himself had a nose for "irony"! This was what
you call sincere Panegyric in liberal measure; why be stingy with
your measure? It costs half an hour: it will end Voltaire's
importunities; and so may, if anything, oil the business-wheels
withal. For Friedrich foresees business enough with Louis and the
French Ministries, though he will not enter on it with Voltaire.
This Journey to Baireuth and Anspach, for example, this is not for
a visit to his Sisters, as Friedrich labels it; but has extensive
purposes hidden under that title,--meetings with Franconian
Potentates, earnest survey, earnest consultation on a state of
things altogether grave for Germany and Friedrich; though he
understands whom to treat with about it, whom to answer with a
"BIRIBIRI, MON AMI." That Austrian Exorbitancy of a message to the
Diet has come out (August 16th, and is struggling to DICTATUR);
the Austrian procedures in Baiern are in their full flagrancy:
Friedrich intends trying once more, Whether, in such crisis, there
be absolutely no "Union of German Princes" possible; nor even of
any two or three of them, in the "Swabian and Franconian Circles,"
which he always thought the likeliest?

The Journey took effect, Tuesday, 10th September [Rodenbeck,
i. 93.] (not the day before, as Friedrich had been projecting);
went by Halle, straight upon Baireuth; and ended there on Thursday.
As usual, Prince August Wilhelm, and Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick,
were of it; Voltaire failed not to accompany. What the complexion
of it was, especially what Friedrich had meant by it, and how ill
he succeeded, will perhaps be most directly visible through the
following compressed Excerpts from Voltaire's long LETTER to
Secretary Amelot on the subject,--if readers will be diligent with
them. Friedrich, after four days, ran across to Anspach on
important business; came back with mere failure, and was
provokingly quite silent on it; stayed at Baireuth some three days
more; thence home by Gotha (still on "Union" business, still mere
failure), by Leipzig, and arrived at Potsdam, September 25th;--
leaving Voltaire in Wilhelmina's charmed circle (of which unhappily
there is not a word said), for about a week more.
Voltaire, directly on getting back to Berlin, "resumes the thread
of his journal" to Secretary Amelot; that is, writes him another
long Letter:--

   VOLTAIRE (from Berlin, 3d October, 1743) TO SECRETARY AMELOT.

"... The King of Prussia told me at Baireuth, on the 13th or 14th
of last month, He was glad our King had sent the Kaiser money;"--
useful that, at any rate; Noailles's 6,000 pounds would not go far.
"That he thought M. le Marechal de Noailles's explanation [of a
certain small rumor, to the disadvantage of Noailles in reference
to the Kaiser] was satisfactory: 'but,' added he, 'it results from
all your secret motions that you are begging Peace from everybody,
and there may have been something in this rumor, after all.'

"He then told me he was going over to Anspach, to see what could be
done for the Common Cause [Kaiser's and Ours]; that he expected to
meet the Bishop of Wurzburg there; and would try to stir the
Frankish and Swabian Circles into some kind of Union. And, at
setting off [from Baireuth, September 16th, on this errand], he
promised his Brother-in-law the Margraf, He would return with great
schemes afoot, and even with great success;" which proved
otherwise, to a disappointing degree.

"... The Margraf of Anspach did say he would join a Union of
Princes in favor of the Kaiser, if Prussia gave example. But that
was all. The Bishop of Wurzburg," a feeble old creature, "never
appeared at Anspach, nor even sent an apology; and Seckendorf, with
the Imperial Army"--Seckendorf, caged up at Wembdingen (whom
Friedrich drove off from Anspach, twenty miles, to see and
consult), was in a disconsolate moulting condition, and could
promise or advise nothing satisfactory, during the dinner one took
with him. [September 19th, "under a shady tree, after muster of the
troops" (Rodenbeck, p. 93).] Four days running about on those
errands had yielded his Prussian Majesty nothing. "Whilst he
(Prussian Majesty) was on this Anspach excursion, the Margraf of
Baireuth, who is lately made Field-marshal of his Circle, spoke
much to me of present affairs: a young Prince, full of worth and
courage, who loves the French, hates the Austrians,"--and would
fain make himself generally useful. "To whom I suggested this
and that" (does your Lordship observe?), if it could ever come
to anything.

"The King of Prussia, on returning to Baireuth [guess, 20th
September], did not speak the least word of business to the
Margraf: which much surprised the latter! He surprised him still
more by indicating some intention to retain forcibly at Berlin the
young Duke of Wurtemberg, under pretext, 'that Madam his Mother
intended to have him taken to Vienna,' for education. To anger this
young Duke, and drive his Mother to despair, was not the method for
acquiring credit in the Circle of Swabia, and getting the Princes
brought to unite!

"The Duchess of Wurtemberg, who was there at Baireuth, by
appointment, to confer with the King of Prussia, sent to seek me.
I found her all dissolved in tears. 'Ah!' said she,--[But why is
our dear Wilhelmina left saying nothing; invisible, behind the
curtains of envious Chance, and only a skirt of them lifted to show
us this Improper Duchess once more!]--'Ah!' said she (the Improper
Duchess, at sight of me), 'will the King of Prussia be a tyrant,
then? To pay me for intrusting my Boys to him, and giving him two
Regiments [for money down], will he force me to implore justice
against him from the whole world? I must have my Child! He shall
not go to Vienna; it is in his own Country that I will have him
brought up beside me. To put my Son in Austrian hands? [unless,
indeed, your Highness were driven into Financial or other straits?]
You know if I love France;--if my design is not to pass the rest of
my days there, so soon as my Son comes to majority!' Ohone, ohoo!

"In fine, the quarrel was appeased. The King of Prussia told me he
would be gentler with the Mother; would restore the Son if they
absolutely wished it; but that he hoped the young Prince would of
himself like better to stay where he was." ...--"I trust your
Lordship will allow me to draw for those 300 ducats, for a new
carriage. I have spent all I had, running about these four months.
I leave this for Brunswick and homewards, on the evening of the
12th." [Voltaire, lxxiii. 105-109.] ...

And so the curtain drops on the Baireuth Journey, on the Berlin
Visit; and indeed, if that were anything, on Voltaire's Diplomatic
career altogether. The insignificant Accidents, the dull Powers
that be, say No. Curious to reflect, had they happened to say Yes:
--"Go into the Diplomatic line, then, you sharp climbing creature,
and become great by that method; WRITE no more, you; write only
Despatches and Spy-Letters henceforth!"--how different a world for
us, and for all mortals that read and that do not read, there had
now been!

Voltaire fancies he has done his Diplomacy well, not without fruit;
and, at Brunswick,--cheered by the grand welcome he found
there,--has delightful outlooks (might I dare to suggest them,
Monseigneur?) of touring about in the German Courts, with some
Circular HORTATORIUM, or sublime Begging-Letter from the Kaiser, in
his hand; and, by witchery of tongue, urging Wurtemberg, Brunswick,
Baireuth, Anspach, Berlin, to compliance with the Imperial Majesty
and France. [Ib. lxxiii. 133.] Would not that be sublime! But that,
like the rest, in spite of one's talent, came to nothing. Talent?
Success? Madame de Chateauroux had, in the interim, taken a dislike
to M. Amelot; "could not bear his stammering," the fastidious
Improper Female; flung Amelot overboard,--Amelot, and his luggage
after him, Voltaire's diplomatic hopes included; and there was
an end. 

How ravishing the thing had been while it lasted, judge by these
other stray symptoms; hastily picked up, partly at Berlin, partly
at Brunswick; which show us the bright meridian, and also the
blaze, almost still more radiant, which proved to be sunset.
Readers have heard of Voltaire's Madrigals to certain Princesses;
and must read these Three again,--which are really incomparable in
their kind; not equalled in graceful felicity even by Goethe, and
by him alone of Poets approached in that respect. At Berlin, Autumn
1743, Three consummate Madrigals:--


       "Souvent un peu de verite
       Se mele au plus grossier mensonge:
       Cette nuit, dans l'erreur d'un songe,
       Au rang des rois j'etais monte.
Je vous aimais, Princesse, et j'osais vous le dire!
             Les dieux a mon reveil ne m'ont pas tout ote,
             Je n'ai perdu que mon empire."


      "Si Paris venait sur la terre
      Pour juger entre vos beaux yeux,
      Il couperait la pomme en deux,
      Et ne produirait pas de guerre."


"Pardon, charmante Ulrique; pardon, belle Amelie;
J'ai cru n'aimer que vous la reste de ma vie,
        Et ne servir que sous vos lois;
        Mais enfin j'entends et je vois
Cette adorable Soeur dont l'Amour suit les traces:
        Ah, ce n'est pas outrager les Trois Graces
        Que de les aimer toutes trois!"

[1. "A grain of truth is often mingled with the stupidest delusion.
Yesternight, in the error of a dream, I had risen to the rank of
king; I loved you, Princess, and had the audacity to say so! The
gods, at my awakening, did not strip me wholly; my kingdom was all
they took from me."
2. If Paris [of Troy] came back to decide on the charms of you Two,
he would halve the Apple, and produce no War."
3. "Pardon, charming Ulrique; beautiful Amelia, pardon: I thought I
should love only you for the rest of my life, and serve under your
laws only: but at last I hear and see this adorable Sister, whom
Love follows as Page:--Ah, it is not offending the Three Graces to
love them all three!"
--In <italic> Oeuvres de Voltaire, <end italic> xviii.: No. 1 is,
p. 292 (in <italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xiv. 90-92,
the ANSWERS to it); No. 2 is, p. 320; No. 3, p. 321.]

BRUNSWICK, 16th October (blazing sunset, as it proved, but
brighter almost than meridian), a LETTER FROM VOLTAIRE TO
MAUPERTUIS (still in France since that horrible
Mollwitz-Pandour Business).

"In my wanderings I received the Letter where my dear Flattener of
this Globe deigns to remember me with so much friendship. Is it
possible that--... I made your compliments to all your friends at
Berlin; that is, to all the Court." "Saw Dr. Eller decomposing
water into elastic air [or thinking he did so, 1743]; saw the Opera
of TITUS, which is a masterpiece of music [by Friedrich himself,
with the important aid of Graun]: it was, without vanity, a treat
the King gave me, or rather gave himself; he wished I should see
him in his glory.

"His Opera-House is the finest in Europe. Charlottenburg is a
delicious abode: Friedrich does the honors there, the King knowing
nothing of it. ... One lives at Potsdam as in the Chateau of a
French Seigneur who had culture and genius,--in spite of that big
Battalion of Guards, which seems to me the terriblest Battalion in
this world.

"Jordan is still the same,--BON GARCON ET DISCRET; has his
oddities, his 1,600 crowns (240 pounds) of pension. D'Argens is
Chamberlain, with a gold key at his breast-pocket, and 100 louis
inside, payable monthly. Chasot [whom readers made acquaintance
with at Philipsburg long since], instead of cursing his destiny,
must have taken to bless it: he is Major of Horse, with income
enough. And he has well earned it, having saved the King's Baggage
at the last Battle of Chotusitz,"--what we did not notice, in the
horse-charges and grand tumults of that scene.

"I passed some days [a fortnight in all] at Baireuth. Her Royal
Highness, of course, spoke to me of you. Baireuth is a delightful
retreat, where one enjoys whatever there is agreeable in a Court,
without the bother of grandeur. Brunswick, where I am, has another
species of charm. 'Tis a celestial Voyage this of mine, where I
pass from Planet to Planet,"-- to tumultuous Paris; and, I do hope,
to my unique Maupertuis awaiting me there at last. [Voltaire,
lxxiii. 122-125.]'

We have only to remark farther, that Friedrich had again pressed
Voltaire to come and live with him, and choose his own terms;
and that Voltaire (as a second string to his bow, should this fine
Diplomatic one fail) had provisionally accepted. Provisionally;
and with one most remarkable clause: that of leaving out Madame,--
"imagining it would be less agreeable to you if I came with others
(AVEC D'AUTRES); and I own, that belonging to your Majesty alone, I
should have my mind more at ease:" [<italic> OEuvres de Voltaire,
<end italic> lxxiii. 112,116 (Proposal and Response, both of them
"7th October," five days before leaving Berlin).]--whew! And then
to add a third thing: That Madame, driven half delirious, by these
delays, and gyratings from Planet to Planet, especially by that
last Fortnight at Baireuth, had rushed off from Paris, to seek her
vagabond, and see into him with her own eyes: "Could n't help it,
my angels!" writes she to the D'Argentals (excellent guardian
angels, Monsieur and Madame; and, I am sure, PATIENT both of them,
as only MONSIEUR Job was, in the old case): "A whole fortnight
[perhaps with madrigals to Princesses], and only four lines to me!"
--and is now in bed, or lately was, at Lille, ill of slow fever
(PETITE FIEVRE); panting to be upon the road again.
[<italic> Lettres inedites de Madame du Chastelet a M. le Comte
d'Argental <end italic> (Paris, 1806) p. 253. A curiously
elucidative Letter this ("Brussels, 15th October, 1743"); a curious
little Book altogether.]

Fancy what a greeting for M. de Voltaire, from those eyes HAGARDES
ET LOUCHES; and whether he mentioned that pretty little clause of
going to Berlin "WITHOUT others," or durst for the life of him
whisper of going at all! After pause in the Brussels region, they
came back to Paris "in December;" resigned, I hope, to inexorable
Fate,--though with such Diplomatic and other fine prospects flung
to the fishes, and little but GREDINS and confusions waiting you,
as formerly.

Chapter VII.


Though Friedrich went upon the bantering tone with Voltaire, his
private thoughts in regard to the surrounding scene of things were
extremely serious; and already it had begun to be apparent, from
those Britannic-Austrian procedures, that some new alliance with
France might well lie ahead for him. During Voltaire's visit, that
extraordinary Paper from Vienna, that the Kaiser was no Kaiser, and
that there must be "compensation" and satisfactory "assurance," had
come into full glare of first-reading; and the DICTATUR-SACHE, and
denunciation of an evidently partial Kur-Mainz, was awakening
everywhere. Voltaire had not gone, when,--through Podewils Junior
(probably with help of the improper Dutch female of rank),--
Friedrich got to wit of another thing, not less momentous to him;
and throwing fearful light on that of "compensation" and
"assurance." This was the Treaty of Worms,--done by Carteret and
George, September 13th, during those languid Rhine operations;
Treaty itself not languid, but a very lively thing, to Friedrich
and to all the world! Concerning which a few words now.

We have said, according to promise, and will say, next to nothing
of Maria Theresa's Italian War; but hope always the reader keeps it
in mind. Big war-clouds waltzing hither and thither, occasionally
clashing into bloody conflict; Sardinian Majesty and Infant Philip
both personally in the field, fierce men both: Traun, Browne,
Lobkowitz, Lichtenstein, Austrians of mark, successively
distinguishing themselves; Spain, too, and France very diligent;--
Conti off thither, then in their turns Maillebois, Noailles:--high
military figures, but remote; shadowy, thundering INaudibly on this
side and that; whom we must not mention farther.

"The notable figure to us," says one of my Notes, "is Charles
Emanuel, second King of Sardinia; who is at the old trade of his
Family, and shifts from side to side, making the war-balance
vibrate at a great rate, now this scale now that kicking the beam.
For he holds the door of the Alps, Bully Bourbon on one side of it,
Bully Hapsburg on the other; and inquires sharply, "You, what will
you give me? And you?" To Maria Theresa's affairs he has been
superlatively useful, for these Two Years past; and truly she is
not too punctual in the returns covenanted for. It appears to
Charles Emanuel that the Queen of Hungary, elated in her high
thought, under-rates his services, of late; that she practically
means to give him very little of those promised slices from the
Lombard parts; and that, in the mean while, much too big a share
of the War has fallen upon his poor hands, who should be
doorholder only.

"Accordingly he grumbles, threatens: he has been listening to
France, 'Bourbon, how much will you give me, then?' and the answer
is such that he informs the Queen of Hungary and the Britannic
Majesty, of his intention to close with Bourbon, since they on
their side will do nothing considerable. George and his Carteret,
not to mention the Hungarian Majesty at all, are thunder-struck at
such a prospect; bend all their energies towards this essential
point of retaining Charles Emanuel, which is more urgent even than
getting Elsass. 'Madam,' they say to her Majesty, (we cannot save
Italy for you on other terms: Vigevanesco, Finale [which is
Genoa's], part of Piacenza [when once got]: there must be some
slice of the Lombard parts to this Charles Emanuel justly angry!'
Whereat the high Queen storms, and in her high manner scolds little
George, as if he were the blamable party,--pretending friendship,
and yet abetting mere highway robbery or little better. And his
cash paid Madam, and his Dettingen mouse-trap fought? 'Well, he has
plenty of cash:--is it my Cause, then, or his Majesty's and
Liberty's?' Posterity, in modern England, vainly endeavors to
conceive this phenomenon; yet sees it to be undeniable.

"And so there is a Treaty of Worms got concocted, after infinite
effort on the part of Carteret, Robinson too laboring and steaming
in Vienna with boilers like to burst; and George gets it signed
13th September [already signed while Friedrich was looking into
Seckendorf and Wembdingen, if Friedrich had known it]: to this
effect, That Charles Emanuel should have annually, down on the
nail, a handsome increase of Subsidy (200,000 pounds instead of
150,000 pounds) from England, and ultimately beyond doubt some
thinnish specified slices from the Lombard parts; and shall proceed
fighting for, not against; English Fleet co-operating, English
Purse ditto, regardless of expense; with other fit particulars, as
formerly. [Scholl, ii. 330-335; Adelung, iii. B, 222-226; Coxe,
iii. 296.] Maria Theresa, very angry, looks upon herself as a
martyr, nobly complying to suffer for the whim of England;
and Robinson has had such labors and endurances, a steam-engine on
the point of bursting is but an emblem of him. It was a necessary
Treaty for the Cause of Liberty, as George and Carteret, and all
English Ministries and Ministers (Diana of Newcastle very
specially, in spite of Pitt and a junior Opposition Party) viewed
Liberty. It was Love's last shift,--Diana having intervened upon
those magnificent 'Conferences of Hanau' lately! Nevertheless
Carteret was thrown out, next year, on account of it. And Posterity
is unable to conceive it; and asks always of little George, What,
in the name of wonder, had he to do there, fighting for or against,
and hiring everybody he met to fight against everybody? A King with
eyes somewhat A FLEUR-DE-TETE: yes; and let us say, his Nation,
too,--which has sat down quietly, for almost a century back, under
mountains of nonsense, inwardly nothing but dim Scepticism [except
in the stomachic regions], and outwardly such a Trinacria of
Hypocrisy [unconscious, for most part] as never lay on an honest
giant Nation before, was itself grown much of a fool, and could
expect no other kind of Kings.

"But the point intensely interesting to Friedrich in this Treaty of
Worms was, That, in enumerating punctually the other Treaties, old
and recent, which it is to guarantee, and stand upon the basis of,
there is nowhere the least mention of Friedrich's
BRESLAU-AND-BERLIN TREATY; thrice-important Treaty with her
Hungarian Majesty on the Silesian matter! In settling all manner of
adjoining and preceding matters, there is nothing said of Silesia
at all. Singular indeed. Treaties enough, from that of Utrecht
downward, are wearisomely mentioned here; but of the Berlin Treaty,
Breslau Treaty, or any Treaty settling Silesia,--much less, of any
Westminster Treaty, guaranteeing it to the King of Prussia,--there
is not the faintest mention! Silesia, then, is not considered
settled, by the high contracting parties? Little George himself,
who guaranteed it, in the hour of need, little more than a year
ago, considers it fallen loose again in the new whirl of
contingencies? 'Patience, Madam: what was good to give is good to
take!' On what precise day or month Friedrich got notice of this
expressive silence in the Treaty of Worms, we do not know; but from
that day--!"

Friedrich recollects another thing, one of many others: that of
those "ulterior mountains," which Austria had bargained for as
Boundary to Schlesien. Wild bare mountains; good for what? For
invading Schlesien from the Austrian side; if for nothing else
conceivable! The small riddle reads itself to him so, with a
painful flash of light. [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic>
iii. 34.] Looking intensely into this matter, and putting things
together, Friedrich gets more and more the alarming assurance of
the fate intended him; and that he will verily have to draw sword
again, and fight for Silesia, and as if for life. From about the
end of 1743 (as I strive to compute), there was in Friedrich
himself no doubt left of it; though his Ministers, when he
consulted them a good while afterwards, were quite incredulous, and
spent all their strength in dissuading a new War; now when the only
question was, How to do said War? "How to do it, to make ready for
doing it? We must silently select the ways, the methods: silent,
wary,--then at last swift; and the more like a lion-spring, like a
bolt from the blue, it will be the better!" That is Friedrich's
fixed thought.

The Problem was complicated, almost beyond example. The Reich, with
a Kaiser reduced to such a pass, has its potentialities of help or
of hindrance,--its thousand-fold formulas, inane mostly, yet not
inane wholly, which interlace this matter everywhere, as with real
threads, and with gossamer or apparent threads,--which it is
essential to attend to. Wise head, that could discriminate the dead
Formulas of such an imbroglio, from the not-dead; and plant himself
upon the Living Facts that do lie in the centre there! "We cannot
have a Reichs Mediation-Army, then? Nor a Swabian-Franconian Army,
to defend their own frontier?" No; it is evident, none. "And there
is no Union of Princes possible; no Party, anywhere, that will rise
to support the Kaiser whom all Germany elected; whom Austria and
foreign England have insulted, ruined and officially designated as
non-extant?" Well, not quite No, none; YES perhaps, in some small
degree,--if Prussia will step out, with drawn sword, and give
signal. The Reich has its potentialities, its formulas not quite
dead; but is a sad imbroglio.

Definite facts again are mainly twofold, and of a much more central
nature. Fact FIRST: A France which sees itself lamentably trodden
into the mud by such disappointments and disgraces; which, on
proposing peace, has met insult and invasion;--France will be under
the necessity of getting to its feet, and striking for itself;
and indeed is visibly rising into something of determination to do
it:--there, if Prussia and the Kaiser are to be helped at all,
there lies the one real help. Fact SECOND: Friedrich's feelings for
the poor Kaiser and the poor insulted Reich, of which Friedrich is
a member. Feelings, these, which are not "feigned" (as the English
say), but real, and even indignant; and about these he can speak
and plead freely. For himself and his Silesia, THROUGH the Kaiser,
Friedrich's feelings are pungently real;--and they are withal
completely adjunct to the other set of feelings, and go wholly to
intensifying of them; the evident truth being, That neither he nor
his Silesia would be in danger, were the Kaiser safe.

Friedrich's abstruse diplomacies, and delicate motions and
handlings with the Reich, that is to say, with the Kaiser and the
Kaiser's few friends in the Reich, and then again with the French,
--which lasted for eight or nine months before closure (October,
1743 to June, 1744),--are considered to have been a fine piece of
steering in difficult waters; but would only weary the reader, who
is impatient for results and arrivals. Ingenious Herr Professor
Ranke,--whose HISTORY OF FRIEDRICH consists mainly of such matter
excellently done, and offers mankind a wondrously distilled "ASTRAL
SPIRIT," or ghost-like fac-simile (elegant gray ghost, with stars
dim-twinkling through), of Friedrich's and other people's
Diplomatizings in this World,--will satisfy the strongest
diplomatic appetite; and to him we refer such as are given that
way. [Ranke, <italic> Neun Bucher Preussischer Geschichte, <end
italic> iii. 74-137.]' "France and oneself, as SUBSTANCE of help;
but, for many reasons, give it carefully a legal German FORM or
coat:" that is Friedrich's method as to finding help. And he
diligently prosecutes it;--and, what is still luckier, strives to
be himself at all points ready, and capable of doing with a mininum
of help from others.

Before the Year 1743 was out, Friedrich had got into serious
Diplomatic Colloquy with France; suggesting, urging, proposing,
hypothetically promising. "February 21st, 1744," he secretly
despatched Rothenburg to Paris; who, in a shining manner, consults
not only with the Amelots, Belleisles, but with the Chateauroux
herself (who always liked Friedrich), and with Louis XV. in person:
and triumphantly brings matters to a bearing. Ready here, on the
French side; so soon as your Reich Interests are made the most of;
so soon as your Patriotic "Union of Reich's Princes" is ready!
In March, 1744, the Reich side of the Affair was likewise getting
well forward ("we keep it mostly secret from the poor Kaiser, who
is apt to blab"):--and on May 22d, 1744, Friedrich, with the Kaiser
and Two other well-affected Parties (only two as yet, but we hope
for more, and invite all and sundry), sign solemnly their "UNION OF
FRANKFURT;" famous little Fourfold outcome of so much
diplomatizing. [Ranke, ubi supra (Treaty is in Adelung, iv.
103-105).] For the well-affected Parties, besides Friedrich, and
the Kaiser himself, were as yet Two only: Landgraf Wilhelm of
Hessen-Cassel, disgusted with the late Carteret astucities at
Hanau, he is one (and hires, by and by, his poor 6,000 Hessians to
the French and Kaiser, instead of to the English; which is all the
help HE can give); Landgraf Wilhelm, and for sole second to him the
new Kur-Pfalz, who also has men to hire. New Kur-Pfalz: our poor
OLD friend is dead; but here is a new one, Karl Philip Theodor by
name, of whom we shall hear again long afterwards; who was wedded
(in the Frankfurt-Coronation time, as readers might have noted) to
a Grand-daughter of the old, and who is, like the old, a Hereditary
Cousin of the Kaiser's, and already helps him all he can.

Only these Two as yet, though the whole Reich is invited to join;
these, along with Friedrich and the Kaiser himself, do now, in
their general Patriotic "Union," which as yet consists only of
Four, covenant, in Six Articles, To,--in brief, to support
Teutschland's oppressed Kaiser in his just rights and dignities;
and to do, with the House of Austria, "all imaginable good offices"
(not the least whisper of fighting) towards inducing said high
House to restore to the Kaiser his Reichs-Archives, his Hereditary
Countries, his necessary Imperial Furnishings, called for by every
law human and divine:--in which endeavor, or innocently otherwise,
if any of the contracting parties be attacked, the others will
guarantee him, and strenuously help. "All imaginable good offices;"
nothing about fighting anywhere,--still less is there the least
mention of France; total silence on that head, by Friedrich's
express desire. But in a Secret Article (to which France, you may
be sure, will accede), it is intimated, "That the way of good
offices having some unlikelihoods, it MAY become necessary to take
arms. In which tragic case, they will, besides Hereditary Baiern
(which is INalienable, fixed as the rocks, by Reichs-Law), endeavor
to conquer, to reconquer for the Kaiser, his Kingdom of Bohmen
withal, as a proper Outfit for Teutschland's Chief: and that, if
so, his Prussian Majesty (who will have to do said conquest) shall,
in addition to his Schlesien, have from it the Circles of
Konigsgratz, Bunzlau and Leitmeritz for his trouble." This is the
Treaty of Union, Secret-Article and all; done at Frankfurt-on-
Mayn, 22d May, 1744.

Done then and there; but no part of it made public, till August
following, ["22d August 1744, by the Kaiser" (Adelung, iv. 154.}]
(when the upshot had come); and the Secret Bohemian Article NOT
then made public, nor ever afterwards,--much the contrary;
though it was true enough, but inconvenient to confess, especially
as it came to nothing. "A hypothetical thing, that," says Friedrich
carelessly; "wages moderate enough, and proper to be settled
beforehand, though the work was never done." To reach down quite
over the Mountains, and have the Elbe for Silesian Frontier:
this, as an occasional vague thought, or day-dream in high moments,
was probably not new to Friedrich; and would have been very welcome
to him,--had it proved realizable, which it did not. That this was
"Friedrich's real end in going to War again," was at one time the
opinion loudly current in England and other uninformed quarters;
"but it is not now credible to anybody," says Herr Ranke;
nor indeed worth talking of, except as a memento of the angry
eclipses, and temporary dust-clouds, which rise between Nations, in
an irritated uninformed condition.

Rapidly progressive in the rear of all this, which was its
legalizing German COAT, the French Treaty, which was the interior
SUBSTANCE, or muscular tissue, perfected itself under Rothenburg;
and was signed June 5th, 1774 (anniversary, by accident, of that
First Treaty of all, "June 5th, 1741");--sanctioning, by France,
that Bohemian Adventure, if needful; minutely setting forth How,
and under what contingencies, what efforts made and what successes
arrived at, on the part of France, his Prussian Majesty shall take
the field; and try Austria, not "with all imaginable good offices"
longer, but with harder medicine. Of which Treaty we shall only say
farther, commiserating our poor readers, That Friedrich
considerably MORE than kept his side of it; and France very
considerably LESS than hers. So that, had not there been punctual
preparation at all points, and good self-help in Friedrich,
Friedrich had come out of this new Adventure worse than he did!

Long months ago, the French--as preliminary and rigorous SINE QUA
NON to these Friedrich Negotiations--had actually started work, by
"declaring War on Austria, and declaring War on England:"--Not yet
at War, then, after so much killing? Oh no, reader; mere "Allies"
of Belligerents, hitherto. These "Declarations" the French had
made; [War on England, 15th March, 1744; on Austria, 27th April
(Adelung, iv. 78, 90).] and the French were really pushing forward,
in an attitude of indignant energy, to execute the same. As shall
be noticed by and by. And through Rothenburg, through Schmettau, by
many channels, Friedrich is assiduously in communication with them;
encouraging, advising, urging; their affairs being in a sort his,
ever since the signing of those mutual Engagements, May 22d, June
5th. And now enough of that hypothetic Diplomatic stuff.

War lies ahead, inevitable to Friedrich. He has gradually increased
his Army by 18,000; inspection more minute and diligent than ever,
has been quietly customary of late; Walrave's fortification works,
impregnable or nearly so, the work at Neisse most of all, Friedrich
had resolved to SEE completed,--before that French Treaty were
signed. A cautious young man, though a rapid; vividly awake on all
sides. And so the French-Austrian, French-English game shall go on;
the big bowls bounding and rolling (with velocities, on courses,
partly computable to a quick eye);--and at the right instant, and
juncture of hits, not till that nor after that, a quick hand shall
bowl in; with effect, as he ventures to hope. He knows well, it is
a terrible game. But it is a necessary one, not to be despaired of;
it is to be waited for with closed lips, and played to
one's utmost!--

Chapter VIII.


Friedrich, with the Spectre of inevitable War daily advancing on
him, to him privately evident and certain if as yet to him only,
neglects in no sort the Arts and business of Peace, but is present,
always with vivid activity, in the common movement, serious or gay
and festive, as the day brings it. During these Winter months of
1743, and still more through Summer 1744, there are important War-
movements going on,--the French vehemently active again, the
Austrians nothing behindhand,--which will require some slight
notice from us soon. But in Berlin, alongside of all this, it is
mere common business, diligent as ever, alternating with Carnival
gayeties, with marryings, givings in marriage; in Berlin there goes
on, under halcyon weather, the peaceable tide of things, sometimes
in a high fashion, as if Berlin and its King had no concern with
the foreign War.

The Plauen Canal, an important navigation-work, canal of some
thirty miles, joining Havel to Elbe in a convenient manner, or even
joining Oder to Elbe, is at its busiest:--"it was begun June 1st,
1743 [all hands diligently digging there, June 27th, while some
others of us were employed at Dettingen,--think of it!], and was
finished June 5th, 1745." [Busching, <italic> Erdbeschreibung, <end
italic> vi. 2192.] This is one of several such works now afoot.
Take another miscellaneous item or two.

January, 1744, Friedrich appoints, and briefly informs all his
People of it, That any Prussian subject who thinks himself
aggrieved, may come and tell his story to the King's own self:
["January, 1744" (Rodenbeck, i. 98).]--better have his story in
firm succinct state, I should imagine, and such that it will hold
water, in telling it to the King! But the King is ready to hear
him; heartily eager to get justice done him. A suitable boon, such
Permission, till Law-Reform take effect. And after Law-Reform had
finished, it was a thing found suitable; and continued to the end,
--curious to a British reader to consider!

Again: on Friedrich's birthday, 24th January, 1744, the new Academy
of Sciences had, in the Schloss of Berlin, its first Session.
But of this,--in the absence of Maupertuis, Flattener of the Earth,
who is still in France, since that Mollwitz adventure; by and for
behoof of whom, when he did return, and become "Perpetual First
President," many changes were made,--I will not speak at present.
Nor indeed afterwards, except on good chance rising;--the new
Academy, with its Perpetual First President, being nothing like so
sublime an object now, to readers and me, as it then was to itself
and Perpetual President and Royal Patron! Vapid Formey is Perpetual
Secretary; more power to him, as the Irish say. Poor Goldstick
Pollnitz is an Honorary Member;--absent at this time in Baireuth,
where those giggling Marwitzes of Wilhelmina's have been contriving
a marriage for the old fool. Of which another word soon: if we have
time. Time cannot be spent on those dim small objects: but there
are two Marriages of a high order, of purport somewhat Historical;
there is Barberina the Dancer, throwing a flash through the
Operatic and some other provinces: let us restrict ourselves to
these, and the like of these, and be brief upon them.


Marriage First, of an eminently Historical nature, is altogether
Russian, or German become Russian, though Friedrich is much
concerned in it. We heard of the mad Swedish-Russian War; and how
Czarina Elizabeth was kind enough to choose a Successor to the old
childless Swedish King,--Landgraf of Hessen-Cassel by nature;
who has had a sorry time in Sweden, but kept merry and did not mind
it much, poor old soul. Czarina Elizabeth's one care was, That the
Prince of Denmark should not be chosen to succeed, as there was
talk of his being: Sweden, Denmark, Norway, all grasped in one firm
hand (as in the old "Union-of-Calmar" times, only with better
management), might be dangerous to Russia. "Don't choose him of
Denmark!" said Elizabeth, the victorious Czarina; and made it a
condition of granting Peace, and mostly restoring Finland, to the
infatuated Swedes. The person they did choose,--satisfactory to the
Czarina, and who ultimately did become King of Sweden,--was one
Adolf Friedrich; a Holstein-Gottorp Prince, come of Royal kin, and
cousinry to Karl XII.: he is "Bishop of Lubeck" or of Eutin, so
styled; now in his thirty-third year; and at least drawing the
revenues of that See, though I think, not ecclesiastically given,
but living oftener in Hamburg, the then fashionable resort of those
Northern Grandees. On the whole, a likely young gentleman;
accepted by parties concerned;--and surely good enough for the
Office as it now is. Of whom, for a reason coming, let readers take
note, in this place.

Above a year before this time, Czarina Elizabeth, a provident
female, and determined not to wed, had pitched upon her own
Successor: [7th November, 1742 (Michaelis, ii. 627).] one Karl
Peter Ulrich; who was also of the same Holstein-Gottorp set, though
with Russian blood in him. His Grandfather was full cousin, and
chosen comrade, to Karl XII.; got killed in Karl's Russian Wars;
and left a poor Son dependent on Russian Peter the Great,--who gave
him one of his Daughters; whence this Karl Peter Ulrich, an orphan,
dear to his Aunt the Czarina. A Karl Peter Ulrich, who became
tragically famous as Czar Peter Federowitz, or Czar Peter III., in
the course of twenty years! His Father and Mother are both dead;
loving Aunt has snatched the poor boy out of Holstein-Gottorp,
which is a narrow sphere, into Russia, which is wide enough;
she has had him converted to the Greek Church, named him Peter
Federowitz, Heir and Successor;--and now, wishing to see him
married, has earnestly consulted Friedrich upon it.

Friedrich is decidedly interested; would grudge much to see an
Anti-Prussian Princess, for instance a Saxon Princess (one of whom
is said to Be trying), put into this important station! After a
little thought, he fixes,--does the reader know upon whom?
Readers perhaps, here and there, have some recollection of a
Prussian General, who is Titular Prince of Anhalt-Zerbst on his own
score; and is actual Commandant of Stettin in Friedrich's service,
and has done a great deal of good fortification there and other
good work. Instead of Titular, he has now lately, by decease of an
Elder Brother, become Actual or Semi-Actual (a Brother joined with
him in the poor Heirship); lives occasionally in the Schloss of
Zerbst; but is glad to retain Stettin as a solid supplement.
His Wife, let the reader note farther, is Sister to the above-
mentioned Adolf Friedrich, "Bishop of Lubeck," now Heir-Apparent to
Sweden,--in whom, as will soon appear, we are otherwise interested.
Wife seems to me an airy flighty kind of lady, high-paced, not too
sure-paced,--weak evidently in French grammar, and perhaps in human
sense withal:--but they have a Daughter, Sophie-Frederike, now near
fifteen, and very forward for her age; comely to look upon, wise to
listen to: "Is not she the suitable one?" thinks Friedrich, in
regard to this matter. "Her kindred is of the oldest, old as Albert
the Bear; she has been frugally brought up, Spartan-like, though as
a Princess by birth: let her cease skippiug ropes on the ramparts
yonder, with her young Stettin playmates; and prepare for being a
Czarina of the Russias," thinks he. And communicates his mind to
the Czarina; who answers, "Excellent! How did I never think of
that myself?"

And so, on or about New-year's day, 1744, while the Commandant of
Stettin and his airy Spouse are doing Christmas at their old
Schloss of Zerbst, there suddenly come Estafettes; Expresses from
Petersburg, heralded by Express from Friedrich:--with the
astonishing proposal, "Czarina wishing the honor of a visit from
Madam and Daughter; no doubt, with such and such intentions in the
rear." [Friedrich's Letters to Madam of Zerbst (date of the first
of them, 30th December, 1743), in <italic> OEuvres, <end italic>
xxv. 579-589.] Madam, nor Daughter, is nothing loath;--the old
Commandant grumbles in his beard, not positively forbidding: and in
this manner, after a Letter or two in imperfect grammar, Madam and
Daughter appear in Carnival society at Berlin, charming objects
both; but do not stay long; in fact, stay only till their moneys
and arrangements are furnished them. Upon which, in all silence,
they make for Petersburg, for Moscow; travel rapidly, arrive
successfully, in spite of the grim season. ["At Moscow, 7th (18th)
February, 1744."] Conversion to the Greek Religion, change of name
from Sophie-Frederike to Catherine-Alexiewna ("Let it be
Catherine," said Elizabeth, "my dear mother's name!"--little brown
Czarina's, whom we have seen):--all this was completed by the 12th
of July following. And, in fine, next year (September 1st, 1745),
Peter Federowitz and this same Catherine-Alexiewna, second-cousins
by blood, were vouchsafed the Nuptial Benediction, and, with
invocation of the Russian Heaven and Russian Earth, were declared
to be one flesh, [Ranke, iii. 129; <italic> Memoires de Catherine
II. <end italic> (Catherine's own very curious bit of
Autobiography;--published by Mr. Herzen, London, 1859), pp. 7-46.]
--though at last they turned out to be TWO FLESHES, as my reader
well knows! Some eighteen or nineteen years hence, we may look in
upon them again, if there be a moment to spare. This is Marriage
first; a purely Russian one; built together and launched on its
course, so to say, by Friedrich at Berlin, who had his own interest
in it.

Marriage Second, done at Berlin in the same months, was of still
more interesting sort to Friedrich and us: that of Princess Ulrique
to the above-named Adolf Friedrich, future King of Sweden.
Marriage which went on preparing itself by the side of the other;
and was of twin importance with it in regard to the Russian
Question. The Swedish Marriage was not heard of, except in
important whispers, during the Carnival time; but a Swedish
Minister had already come to Berlin on it, and was busy first in a
silent and examining, then in a speaking and proposing way.
It seems, the Czarina herself had suggested the thing, as a
counter-politeness to Friedrich; so content with him at this time.
A thing welcome to Friedrich. And, in due course ("June, 1744"),
there comes express Swedish Embassy, some Rodenskjold or Tessin,
with a very shining train of Swedes, "To demand Princess Ulrique in
marriage for our Future King."

To which there is assent, by no means denial, in the proper
quarter. Whereupon, after the wide-spread necessary fuglings and
preliminaries, there occurs (all by Procuration, Brother August
Wilhelm doing the Bridegroom's part), "July 17th, 1744," the
Marriage itself: all done, this last act, and the foregoing ones
and the following, with a grandeur and a splendor--unspeakable, we
may say, in short. [<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic> ii.
1045-1051.] Fantastic Bielfeld taxes his poor rouged Muse to the
utmost, on this occasion; and becomes positively wearisome,
chanting the upholsteries of life;--foolish fellow, spoiling his
bits of facts withal, by misrecollections, and even by express
fictions thrown in as garnish. So that, beyond the general
impression, given in a high-rouged state, there is nothing to be
depended on. One Scene out of his many, which represents to us on
those terms the finale, or actual Departure of Princess Ulrique, we
shall offer,--with corrections (a few, not ALL);--having nothing
better or other on the subject:--

"But, in fine, the day of departure did arrive,"--eve of it did:
25th July, 1744; hour of starting to be 2 A.M. to-morrow. "The King
had nominated Grand-Marshal Graf van Gotter [same Gotter whom we
saw at Vienna once: King had appointed Gotter and two others;
not to say that two of the Princess's Brothers, with her Sister the
Margravine of Schwedt, were to accompany as far as Schwedt: six in
all; though one's poor memory fails one on some occasions!]--to
escort the Princess to Stralsund, where two Swedish Senators and
different high Lords and Ladies awaited her. Her Majesty the Queen-
Mother, judging by the movements of her own heart that the moment
of separation would produce a scene difficult to bear, had ordered
an Opera to divert our chagrin; and, instead of supper, a superb
collation EN AMBIGU [kind of supper-breakfast, I suppose], in the
great Hall of the Palace. Her Majesty's plan was, The Princess, on
coming from the Opera, should, almost on flight, taste a morsel;
take her travelling equipment, embrace her kinsfolk, dash into her
carriage, and go off like lightning. Herr Graf von Gotter was
charged with executing this design, and with hurrying
the departure.

"But all these precautions were vain. The incomparable Ulrique was
too dear to her Family and to her Country, to be parted with
forever, without her meed of tears from them in those cruel
instants. On entering the Opera-Hall, I noticed everywhere
prevalent an air of sorrow, of sombre melancholy. The Princess
appeared in Amazon-dress [riding-habit, say], of rose-color trimmed
with silver; the little vest, turned up with green-blue (CELADON),
and collar of the same; a little bonnet, English fashion, of black
velvet, with a white plume to it; her hair floating, and tied with
a rose-colored ribbon. She was beautiful as Love: but this dress,
so elegant, and so well setting off her charms, only the more
sensibly awakened our regrets to lose her; and announced that the
hour was come, in which all this appeared among us for the last
time. At the second act, young Prince Ferdinand [Youngest Brother,
Father of the JENA Ferdinand] entered the Royal Box; and flinging
himself on the Princess's neck with a burst of tears, said, 'Ah, my
dear Ulrique, it is over, then; and I shall never see you more!'
These words were a signal given to the grief which was shut in all
hearts, to burst forth with the greatest vehemence. The Princess
replied only with sobs; holding her Brother in her arms. The Two
Queens could not restrain their tears; the Princes and Princesses
followed the example: grief is epidemical; it gained directly all
the Boxes of the first rank, where the Court and Nobility were.
Each had his own causes of regret, and each melted into tears.
Nobody paid the least attention farther to the Opera; and for my
own share, I was glad to see it end.

"An involuntary movement took me towards the Palace. I entered the
King's Apartments, and found the Royal Family and part of the Court
assembled. Grief had reached its height; everybody had his
handkerchief out; and I witnessed emotions quite otherwise
affecting than those that Theatric Art can produce. The King had
composed an Ode on the Princess's departure; bidding her his last
adieus in the most tender and touching manner. It begins with
these words:--
'Partez, ma Soeur, partez;
La Suede vous attend, la Suede
    vous desire,' <end italic>
'Go, my Sister, go;
Sweden waits you, Sweden
    wishes you.
[Does not now exist (see <italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic>
xiv. 88, and ib. PREFACE p. xv).]

His Majesty gave it her at the moment when she was about to take
leave of the Two Queens. [No, Monsieur, not then; it came to her
hand the second evening hence, at Schwedt; [Her own Letter to
Friedrich (<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xxvii. 372;
"Schwedt, 28th July, 1744").] most likely not yet written at the
time you fabulously give;--you foolish fantast, and "artist" of the
SHAM-kind!]--The Princess threw her eyes on it, and fell into a
faint [No, you Sham, not for IT]: the King had almost done the
like. His tears flowed abundantly. The Princes and Princesses were
overcome with sorrow. At last, Gotter judged it time to put an end
to this tragic scene. He entered the Hall, almost like Boreas in
the Ballet of THE ROSE; that is to say, with a crash. He made one
or two whirlwinds; clove the press, and snatched away the Princess
from the arms of the Queen-Mother, took her in his own, and whisked
her out of the Hall. All the world followed; the carriages were
waiting in the court; and the Princess in a moment found herself in
hers. I was in such a state, I know not how we got down stairs;
I remember only that it was in a concert of lamentable sobbings.
Madam the Margrafin von Schwedt, who had been named to attend the
Princess to Stralsund [read Schwedt] on the Swedish frontier, this
high Lady and the two Dames d'Atours who were for Sweden itself,
having sprung into the same carriage, the door of it was shut with
a slam; the postillions cracked, the carriage shot away,--and hid
the adorable Ulrique from the eyes of King and Court, who remained
motionless for some minutes, overcome by their feelings."
[Bielfeld, ii. 107-110.]

We said this Marriage was like the other, important for Public
Affairs. In fact, security on the Russian and Swedish side is
always an object with Friedrich when undertaking war. "That the
French bring about, help me to bring about, a Triple Alliance of
Prussia, Russia, Sweden:" this was a thing Friedrich had bargained
to see done, before joining in the War ahead: but by these Two
Espousals Friedrich hopes he has himself as good as done it.
Of poor Princess Ulrique and her glorious reception in Sweden
(after near miss of shipwreck, in the Swedish Frigate from
Stralsund), we shall say nothing more at present: except that her
glories, all along, were much dashed by chagrins, and dangerous
imminencies of shipwreck,--which latter did not quite overtake HER,
but did her sons and grandsons, being inevitable or nearly so, in
that element, in the course of time.

Sister Amelia, whom some thought disappointed, as perhaps, in her
foolish thought, she might a little be, was made Abbess of
Quedlinburg, which opulent benefice had fallen vacant; and, there
or at Berlin, lived a respectable Spinster-life, doubtless on
easier terms than Ulrique's. Always much loved by her Brother, and
loving him (and "taking care of his shirts," in the final times);
noted in society, for her sharp tongue and ways. Concerning whom
Thiebault and his Trenck romances are worth no notice,--if it be
not with horsewhips on opportunity. SCANDALUM MAGNATUM, where your
Magnates are NOT fallen quite counterfeit, was and is always
(though few now reflect on it) a most punishable crime.


Princess Ulrique was hardly yet home in Sweden, when her Brother
had actually gone forth upon the Wars again! So different is
outside from interior, now and then. "While the dancing and the
marriage-festivities went on at Court, we, in private, were busily
completing the preparations for a Campaign," dreamed of by no
mortal, "which was on the point of being opened." [<italic> OEuvres
de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 41.] July 2d, three weeks before
Princess Ulrique left, a certain Adventure of Prince Karl's in the
Rhine Countries had accomplished itself (of which in the following
Book); and Friedrich could discern clearly that the moment drew
rapidly nigh.

On the French side of the War, there has been visible--since those
high attempts of Britannic George and the Hungarian Majesty,
contumeliously spurning the Peace offered them, and grasping
evidently at one's Lorraines, Alsaces, and Three Bishoprics--a
marked change; comfortable to look at from Friedrich's side.
Most Christian Majesty, from the sad bent attitude of insulted
repentance, has started up into the perpendicular one of
indignation: "Come on, then!"--and really makes efforts, this Year,
quite beyond expectation. "Oriflamme enterprises, private
intentions of cutting Germany in Four; well, have not I smarted for
them; as good as owned they were rather mad? But to have my apology
spit upon; but to be myself publicly cut in pieces for them?"

March 15h, 1744, Most Christian Majesty did, as we saw, duly
declare War against England; against Austria, April 26th:
"England," he says, "broke its Convention of Neutrality (signed
27th September, 1741); broke said Convention [as was very natural,
no term being set] directly after Maillebois was gone; England, by
its Mediterranean Admirals and the like, has, to a degree beyond
enduring, insulted the French coasts, harbors and royal Navy:
We declare War on England." And then, six weeks hence, in regard to
Austria: "Austria, refusing to make Peace with a virtuous Kaiser,
whom we, for the sake of peace, had magnanimously helped, and then
magnanimously ceased to help;--Austria refuses peace with him or
us; on the contrary, Austria attempts, and has attempted, to invade
France itself: We therefore, on and from this 26th of April, 1744,
let the world note it, are at War with Austria." [In <italic>
Adelung, <end italic> iv. 78, 90, the two Manifestoes given.]
Both these promises to Friedrich are punctually performed.

Nor, what is far more important, have the necessary preparations
been neglected; but are on a quite unheard-of scale. Such taxing
and financiering there has been, last Winter:--tax on your street-
lamp, on your fire-wood, increased excise on meat and eatables of
all kinds: Be patient, ye poor; consider GLOIRE, and an ORIFLAMME
so trampled on by the Austrian Heathen! Eatables, street-lamps, do
I say? There is 36,000 pounds, raised by a tax on--well, on
GARDEROBES (not translated)! A small help, but a help: NON OLET,
NON OLEAT. To what depths has Oriflamme come down!--The result is,
this Spring of 1744, indignant France does, by land, and even by
sea, make an appearance calculated to astonish Gazetteers and men.
Land-forces 160,000 actually on foot: 80,000 (grows at last into
100,000, for a little while) as "Army of the Netherlands,"--to
prick into Austria, and astonish England and the Dutch Barrier, in
that quarter. Of the rest, 20,000 under Conti are for Italy;
60,000 (by degrees 40,000) under Coigny for defence of the Rhine
Countries, should Prince Karl, as is surmisable, make new attempts
there. [Adelung, iv. 78; Espagnac, ii. 3.]

And besides all this, there are Two strong Fleets, got actually
launched, not yet into the deep sea, but ready for it: one in
Toulon Harbor, to avenge those Mediterranean insults; and burst
out, in concert with an impatient Spanish Fleet (which has lain
blockaded here for a year past), on the insolent blockading
English: which was in some sort done. ["19th February, 1744,"
French and Spanish Fleets run out; 22d Feb. are attacked by
Matthews and Lestock; are rather beaten, not beaten nearly enough
(Matthews and Lestock blaming one another, Spaniards and French
ditto, ditto: Adelung, iv. 32-35); with the endless janglings,
correspondings, court-martialings that ensue (Beatson, <italic>
Naval and Military Memoirs, <end italic> i. 197 et seqq.;
<italic> Gentleman's Magazine, <end italic> and Old Newspapers, for
1744; &c. &c.).] The other strong Fleet, twenty sail of the line,
under Admiral Roquefeuille, is in Brest Harbor,--intended for a
still more delicate operation; of which anon. Surely King Friedrich
ought to admit that these are fine symptoms? King Friedrich has
freely done so, all along; intending to strike in at the right
moment. Let us see, a little, how things have gone; and how the
right moment has been advancing in late months.
JANUARY 17th, 1744, There landed at Antibes on French soil a young
gentleman, by name "Conte di Spinelli," direct from Genoa, from
Rome; young gentleman seemingly of small importance, but
intrinsically of considerable; who hastened off for Paris, and
there disappeared. Disappeared into subterranean consultations with
the highest Official people; intending reappearance with emphasis
at Dunkirk, a few weeks hence, in much more emphatic posture.
And all through February there is observable a brisk diligence of
War-preparation, at Dunkirk: transport-ships in quantity, finally
four war-ships; 15,000 chosen troops, gradually marching in;
nearly all on board, with their equipments, by the end of
the month.

Clearly an Invading Army intended somewhither, England judges too
well whither. Anti-English Armament; to be led by, whom thinks the
reader? That same "Conte di Spinelli," who is Charles Edward the
Young Pretender,--Comte de Saxe commanding under him! This is no
fable; it is a fact, somewhat formidable; brought about, they say,
by one Cardinal Tencin, an Official Person of celebrity in the then
Versailles world; who owes his red hat (whatever such debt really
be) to old Jacobite influence, exerted for him at Rome; and takes
this method of paying his debt and his court at once. Gets, namely,
his proposal, of a Charles-Edward Invasion of England, to dovetail
in with the other wide artilleries now bent on little George in the
way we see. Had not little George better have stayed at home out of
these Pragmatic Wars? Fifteen thousand, aided by the native
Jacobite hosts, under command of Saxe,--a Saxe against a Wade is
fearful odds,--may make some figure in England! We hope always they
will not be able to land. Imagination may conceive the flurry, if
not of Britannic mankind, at least of Britannic Majesty and his
Official People, and what a stir and din they made:--of which this
is the compressed upshot.

"SATURDAY, 1st MARCH, 1744. For nearly a week past, there has been
seen hanging about in the Channel, and dangerously hovering to and
fro [had entered by the Land's-End, was first noticed on Sunday
last "nigh the Eddistone"] a considerable French Fleet, sixteen
great ships; with four or five more, probably belonging to it,
which now lie off Dunkirk: the intention of which is too well known
in high quarters. This is the grand Brest Fleet, Admiral
Roquefeuille's; which believes it can command the Channel, in
present circumstances, the English Channel-Fleets being in a
disjoined condition,--till Comte de Saxe, with his Charles-Edward
and 15,000, do ship themselves across! Great alarm in consequence;
our War-forces, 40,000 of them, all in Germany; not the least
preparation to receive an Invasive Armament. Comte de Saxe is
veritably at Dunkirk, since Saturday, March 1st: busy shipping his
15,000; equipments mostly shipped, and about 10,000 of the men:
all is activity there; Roquefeuille hanging about Dungeness, with
four of his twenty great ships detached for more immediate
protection of Saxe and those Dunkirk industries. To meet which, old
Admiral Norris, off and on towards the Nore and the Forelands, has
been doing his best to rally force about him; hopes he will now be
match for Roquefeuille:--but if he should not?

"THURSDAY, 6th MARCH. Afternoon of March 5th, old Admiral Norris,
hoping he was at length in something like equality, 'tided it round
the South Foreland;' saw Roquefeuille hanging, in full tale, within
few miles;--and at once plunged into him? No, reader; not at once,
nor indeed at all. A great sea-fight was expected; but our old
Norris thought it late in the day;--and, in effect, no fight proved
needful. Daylight was not yet sunk, when there rose from the north-
eastward a heavy gale; blew all night, and by six next morning was
a raging storm; had blown Roquefeuille quite away out of those
waters (fractions of him upon the rocks of Guernsey); had tumbled
Comte de Saxe's Transports bottom uppermost (so to speak), in
Dunkirk Roads;--and, in fact, had blown the Enterprise over the
horizon, and relieved the Official Britannic mind in the usual
miraculous manner.

"M. le Comte de Saxe--who had, by superhuman activity, saved nearly
all his men, in that hideous topsy-turvy of the Transports and
munitions--returned straightway, and much more M. le Comte de
Spinelli with him, to Paris. Comte de Saxe was directly thereupon
made Marechal de France; appointed to be Colleague of Noailles in
the ensuing Netherlands Campaign. 'Comte de Spinelli went to lodge
with his Uncle, the Cardinal Grand-Almoner Fitz-James' [a zealous
gentleman, of influence with the Holy Father], and there in privacy
to wait other chances that might rise. 'The 1,500 silver medals,
that had been struck for distribution in Great Britain,' fell, for
this time, into the melting-pot again. [Tindal, xxi. 22 (mostly a
puddle of inaccuracies, as usual); Espagnac, i. 213; <italic>
Gentleman's Magazine, <end italic> xiv. 106, &c.; Barbier, ii. 382,
385, 388.]

"Great stir, in British Parliament and Public, there had latterly
been on this matter: Arrestment of suspected persons, banishment of
all Catholics ten miles from London; likewise registering of horses
(to gallop with cannon whither wanted); likewise improvising of
cavalry regiments by persons of condition, 'Set our plush people on
our coach-horses; there!' [Yes, THERE will be a Cavalry,--inferior
to General Ziethen's!]; and were actually drilling them in several
places, when that fortunate blast of storm (March 6th) blew
everything to quiet again. Field-marshal Earl of Stair, in regard
to the Scottish populations, had shown a noble magnanimity;
which was recognized: and a General Sir John Cope rode off, post-
haste, to take the chief command in that Country;--where, in about
eighteen months hence, he made a very shining thing of it!"--Take
this other Cutting from the Old Newspapers:--

"FRIDAY, 31st (20th) MARCH, 1744, A general press began for
recruiting his Majesty's regiments, and manning the Fleet;
when upwards of 1,000 men were secured in the jails of London and
Westminster; being allowed sixpence a head per diem, by the
Commissioners of the Land-tax, who examine them, and send those
away that are found fit for his Majesty's service. The same method
was taken in each County." Press ceases; enough being got,--press
no more till farther order: 5th (16th) June. [<italic> Gentleman's
Magazine <end italic> for 1744, pp. 226, 333.]

Britannic Majesty shaken by such omens, does not in person visit
Germany at all this Year; nor, by his Deputies, at all shine on the
fields of War as lately. He, his English and he, did indeed come
down with their cash in a prompt and manful manner, but showed
little other activity this year. Their troops were already in the
Netherlands, since Winter last; led now by a Field-marshal Wade, of
whom one has heard; to whom joined themselves certain Austrians,
under Duc d'Ahremberg, and certain Dutch, under some other man in
cocked-hat: the whole of whom, under Marshal Wade's chief guidance,
did as good as nothing whatever. "Inferior in force!" cried Marshal
Wade; an indolent incompetent old gentleman, frightful to see in
command of troops: "inferior in force!" cried he, which was not at
first quite the case. And when, by additions to himself, and
deductions (of a most unexpected nature) from his Enemy, he had
become nearly double in force, it was all the same: Marshal Wade
(against whom indeed was Marechal de Saxe, now in sole command, as
we shall see) took shelter in safe places, witnessing therefrom the
swift destruction of the Netherlands, and would attempt nothing.
Which indeed was perhaps prudent on the Marshal's part. Much money
was spent, and men enough did puddle themselves to death on the
clay roads, or bivouacking in the safe swamps; but not the least
stroke of battle was got out of them under this old Marshal.
Had perhaps "a divided command, though nominal Chief," poor old
gentleman;--yes, and a head that understood nothing of his business
withal. One of those same astonishing "Generals" of the English,
now becoming known in Natural History; the like of whom, till
within these hundred and fifty years, were not heard of among sane
Nations. Saxe VERSUS Wade is fearful odds. To judge by the way Saxe
has of handling Wade, may not we thank Heaven that it was not HERE
in England the trial came on! Lift up both your hands, and
bless--not General Wade, quite yet.

AND POLLNITZ A DITTO TESTIMONIAL (February 6th; April 1st, 1744).

February 7th, 1744, Karl Eugen, the young Duke of Wurtemberg,--
Friedrich having got, from the Kaiser, due Dispensation (VENIA
AETATIS) for the young gentleman, and had him declared Duke
Regnant, though only sixteen,--quitted Berlin with great pomp, for
his own Country, on that errand. Friedrich had hoped hereby to
settle the Wurtemberg matters on a good footing, and be sure of a
friend in Wurtemberg to the Kaiser and himself. Which hope, like
everybody's hopes about this young gentleman, was entirely
disappointed; said young gentleman having got into perverse,
haughty, sulky, ill-conditioned ways, and made a bad Life and Reign
of it,--better to lie mostly hidden from us henceforth, at least
for many years to come. The excellent Parting Letter which
Friedrich gave him got abroad into the world; was christened the
MIRROR OF PRINCES, and greatly admired by mankind. It is indeed an
almost faultless Piece of its kind; comprising, in a flowing yet
precise way, with admirable frankness, sincerity, sagacity,
succinctness, a Whole Duty of Regnant Man; [In <italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> ix. 4-7.]--but I fear it would only weary
the reader; perfect ADVICE having become so plentiful in our Epoch,
with little but "pavement" to a certain Locality the consequence!-- 
There is, of the same months, a TESTIMONIAL TO POLLNITZ, which also
got abroad and had its celebrity: this, as specimen of Friedrich on
the comic side, will perhaps be less afflicting; and it will rid us
of Pollnitz, poor soul, on handsome terms.

Goldstick Pollnitz is at Baireuth in these months; fallen quite
disconsolate since we last heard of him. His fine marriage went
awry,--rich lady, very wisely, drawing back;--and the foolish old
creature has decided on REchanging his religion; which he has
changed already thrice or so, in his vagabond straits; for the
purpose of "retiring to a convent" this time. Friedrich, in candid
brief manner, rough but wise, and not without some kindness for an
old dog one is used to, has answered, "Nonsense; that will never
do!" But Pollnitz persisting; formally demanding leave to demit,
and lay down the goldstick, with that view,--Friedrich does at
length send him Certificate of Leave; "which is drawn out with all
the forms, and was despatched through Eichel to the proper Board;"
but which bears date APRIL FIRST, and though officially valid, is
of quizzical nature:---perhaps already known to some readers;
having got into the Newspapers, and widely abroad, at a subsequent
time. As authentic sample of Friedrich in that kind, here it
accurately is, with only one or two slight abridgments, which
are indicated:--

"Whereas the Baron de Pollnitz, born at Berlin [at Koln, if it made
any matter], of honest parents so far as We know,--after having
served Our Grandfather as Gentleman of the Chamber, Madam d'Orleans
[wicked Regent's Mother, a famed German Lady] in the same rank, the
King of Spain in quality of Colonel, the deceased Kaiser in that of
Captain of Horse, the Pope as Chamberlain, the Duke of Brunswick as
Chamberlain, Duke of Weimar as Ensign, our Father as Chamberlain,
and, in fine, Us as Grand Master of the Ceremonies,"--has, in spite
of such accumulation of honors, become disgusted with the world;
and requests a Parting Testimony, to support his good reputation,--

"We, remembering his important services to the House, in diverting
for nine years long the late King our Father, and doing the honors
of our Court during the now Reign, cannot refuse such request;
but do hereby certify, That the said Baron has never assassinated,
robbed on the highway, poisoned, forcibly cut purses, or done other
atrocity or legal crime at our Court; but has always maintained
gentlemanly behavior, making not more than honest use of the
industry and talents he has been endowed with at birth;
imitating the object of the Drama, that is, correcting mankind by
gentle quizzing; following, in the matter of sobriety, Boerhaave's
counsels; pushing Christian charity so far as often to make the
rich understand that it is more blessed to give than to receive;--
possessing perfectly the anecdotes of our various Mansions,
especially of our worn-out Furnitures; rendering himself, by his
merits, necessary to those who know him; and, with a very bad head,
having a very good heart.

"Our anger the said Baron never kindled but once,"--in atrociously
violating the grave of an Ancestress (or Step Ancestress) of ours.
[Step-Ancestress was Dorothea, the Great Elector's second Wife;
of whom Pollnitz, in his <italic> Memoirs and Letters, <end italic>
repeats the rumor that once she, perhaps, tried to poison her
Stepson Friedrich, First King. (See supra, vol. v. p. 47).] "But as
the loveliest countries have their barren spots, the beautifulest
forms their imperfections, pictures by the greatest masters their
faults, We are willing to cover with the veil of oblivion those of
the said Baron; do hereby grant him, with regret, the Congee he
requires;--and abolish his Office altogether, to blot it from men's
memory, not judging that anybody after the said Baron can be worthy
to fill it.
"Done at Potsdam, this 1st of April, 1744.       FREDERIC."
[<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> xv. 193.]

The Office of Grand Master of the Ceremonies was, accordingly,
abolished altogether. But Pollnitz, left loose in this manner, did
not gallop direct, or go at all, into monkhood, as he had expected;
but, in fact, by degrees, crept home to Berlin again; took the
subaltern post of Chamberlain; and there, in the old fashion
(straitened in finance, making loans, retailing anecdotes, not
witty but the cause of wit), wore out life's gray evening;
till, about thirty years hence, he died; "died as he had lived,
swindling the very night before his decease," writes Friedrich;
[Letter to Voltaire, 13th August, 1775 (<italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> xxiii. 344). See Preuss, v. 241
(URKUNDENBUCH), the Letters of Friedrich to Pollnitz.] who was
always rather kind to the poor old dog, though bantering him a
good deal.


Early in May, the Berlin public first saw its Barberina dance, and
wrote ecstatic Latin Epigrams about that miracle of nature and art;
[Rodenbeck, pp. 111, 190.]--miracle, alas, not entirely omissible
by us. Here is her Story, as the Books give it; slightly mythical,
I judge, in some of its non-essential parts; but good enough for
the subject:--  

Barberina the Dancer had cost Friedrich some trouble; the pains he
took with her elegant pirouettings and poussettings, and the heavy
salary he gave her, are an unexpected item in his history.
He wished to favor the Arts, yes; but did he reckon Opera-dancing a
chief one among them? He had indeed built an Opera-House, and gave
free admissions, supporting the cost himself; and among his other
governings, governed the dancer and singer troops of that
establishment. Took no little trouble about his Opera:--yet perhaps
he privately knew its place, after all. "Wished to encourage
strangers of opulent condition to visit his Capital," say the
cunning ones. It may be so; and, at any rate, he probably wished to
act the King in such matters, and not grudge a little money.
He really loved music, even opera music, and knew that his people
loved it; to the rough natural man, all rhythm, even of a
Barberina's feet, may be didactic, beneficial: do not higgle, let
us do what is to be done in a liberal style. His agent at Venice--
for he has agents everywhere on the outlook for him--reports that
here is a Female Dancer of the first quality, who has shone in
London, Paris and the Capital Cities, and might answer well, but
whose terms will probably be dear. "Engage her," answers Friedrich.
And she is engaged on pretty terms; she will be free in a month or
two, and then start. [Zimmermann, <italic> Fragmente uber Friedrich
den Grossen <end italic> (Leipzig, 1790), i. 88-92; Collini, ubi
infra; Denina; &c.: compare Rodenbeck, p. 191.]

Well;--but Barberina had, as is usual, subsidiary trades to her
dancing: in particular, a young English Gentleman had followed her
up and down, says Zimmermann, and was still here in Venice
passionately attached to her. Which fact, especially which young
English gentleman, should have been extremely indifferent to me,
but for a circumstance soon to be mentioned. The young English
gentleman, clear against Barberina's Prussian scheme, passionately
opposes the same, passionately renews his own offers;--induces
Barberina to inform the Prussian agent that she renounces her
engagement in that quarter. Prussian agent answers that it is not
renounceable; that he has legal writing on it, and that it must be
kept. Barberina rises into contumacy, will laugh at all writing and
compulsion. Prussian agent applies to Doge and Senate on the
subject, in his King's name; who answer politely, but do nothing:
"How happy to oblige so great a King; but--" And so it lasts for
certain months; Barberina and the young English gentleman
contumacious in Venice, and Doge and Senate merely wishing we may
get her.

Meanwhile a Venetian Ambassador happens to be passing through
Berlin, in his way to or from some Hyperborean State; arrives at
some hotel, in Berlin;--finds, on the morrow, that his luggage is
arrested by Royal Order; that he, or at least IT, cannot get
farther, neither advance nor return, till Barberina do come.
"Impossible, Signor: a bargain is a bargain; and States ought to
have law-courts that enforce contracts entered into in their
territories." The Venetian Doge and Senate do now lay hold of
Barberina; pack her into post-chaises, off towards Berlin, under
the charge of armed men, with the proper transit-papers,--as it
were under the address, "For his Majesty of Prussia, this side
uppermost,"--and thus she actually is conveyed, date or month
uncertain, by Innspruck or the Splugen, I cannot say which, over
mountain, over valley, from country to country, and from stage to
stage, till she arrives at Berlin; Ambassador with baggage having
been let go, so soon as the affair was seen to be safe.

As for the young English gentleman passionately attached, he
followed, it is understood; faithful, constant as shadow to the
sun, always a stage behind; arrived in Berlin two hours after his
Barberina, still passionately attached; and now, as the rumor goes,
was threatening even to marry her, and so save the matter.
Supremely indifferent to my readers and me. But here now is the
circumstance that makes it mentionable. The young English is
properly a young Scotch gentleman; James Mackenzie the name of
him,--a grandson of the celebrated Advocate, Sir George Mackenzie;
and younger Brother of a personage who, as Earl of Bute, became
extremely conspicuous in this Kingdom in after years. That makes it
mentionable,--if only in the shape of MYTH. For Friedrich,
according to rumor, being still like to lose his Dancer in that
manner, warned the young gentleman's friends; and had him
peremptorily summoned home, and the light fantastic toe left free
in that respect. Which procedure the indignant young gentleman
(thinks my Author) never forgave; continuing a hater of Friedrich
all his days; and instilling the same sentiment into the Earl of
Bute at a period which was very critical, as we shall see.
This is my Author's, the often fallacious though not mendacious
Dr. Zimmermann's, rather deliberate account; a man not given to
mendacity, though filled with much vague wind, which renders him
fallacious in historical points.

Readers of Walpole's <italic> George the Third <end italic> know
enough of this Mackenzie, "Earl's Brother, MACKINSY," and the
sorrowful difficulties about his Scotch law-office or benefice;
in which matter "Mackinsy" behaves always in a high way, and only
the Ministerial Outs and Inns higgle pedler-like, vigilant of the
Liberties of England, as they call them. In the end, Mackinsy kept
his law-office or got it restored to him; 3,000 pounds a year
without excess of work; a man much the gentleman, according to the
rule then current: in contemplative rare moments, the man, looking
back through the dim posterns of the mind, might see afar off a
certain pirouetting Figure, once far from indifferent, and not yet
quite melted into cheerless gray smoke, as so much of the rest is--
to Mr. Mackinsy and us. I have made, in the Scotch Mackenzie
circles, what inquiry was due; find no evidence, but various
likelihoods, that this of the Barberina and him is fact, and a
piece of his biography. As to the inference deduced from it, in
regard to Friedrich and the Earl of Bute, on a critical occasion,--
that rests entirely with Zimmermann; and the candid mind inclines
to admit that, probably, it is but rumor and conjecture;
street-dust sticking to the Doctor's shoes, and demanding merely to
be well swept out again. Heigho!--

Barberina, though a dancer, did not want for more essential graces.
Very sprightly, very pretty and intelligent; not without piquancy
and pungency: the King himself has been known to take tea with her
in mixed society, though nothing more; and with passionate young
gentlemen she was very successful. Not long after her coming to
Berlin, she made conquest of Cocceji, the celebrated Chancellor's
Son; who finding no other resource, at length privately married
her. Voltaire's Collini, when he came to Berlin, in 1750,
recommended by a Signora Sister of the Barberina's, found the
Barberina and her Mother dining daily with this Cocceji as their
guest: [Collini, <italic> Mon Sejour aupres de Voltaire <end
italic> (a Paris, 1807), pp. 13-19.] Signora Barberina privately
informed Collini how the matter was; Signorina still dancing all
the same,--though she had money in the English funds withal;
and Friedrich had been so generous as give her the fixing of her
own salary, when she came to him, this-side-uppermost, in the way
we described. She had fixed, too modestly thinks Collini, on 5,000
thalers (about 750 pounds) a year; having heart and head as well as
heels, poor little soul. Perhaps her notablest feat in History,
after all, was her leading this Collini, as she now did, into the
service of Voltaire, to be Voltaire's Secretary. As will be seen.
Whereby we have obtained a loyal little Book, more credible than
most others, about that notable man.

At a subsequent period, Barberina decided on declaring her marriage
with Cocceji; she drew her money from the English funds, purchased
a fine mansion, and went to live with the said Cocceji there,
giving up the Opera and public pirouettes. But this did not answer
either. Cocceji's Mother scorned irreconcilably the Opera alliance;
Friedrich, who did not himself like it in his Chancellor's Son,
promoted the young man to some higher post in the distant Silesian
region. But there, alas, they themselves quarrelled; divorced one
another; and rumor again was busy. "You, Cocceji yourself, are but
a schoolmaster's grandson [Barberina, one easily supposes, might
have a temper withal]; and it is I, if you will recollect, that
drew money from the English funds!" Barberina married again; and to
a nobleman of sixteen quarters this time, and with whom at least
there was no divorce. Successful with passionate gentlemen; having
money from the English funds. Her last name was Grafinn--I really
know not what. Her descendants probably still live, with sixteen
quarters, in those parts. It was thus she did her life-journey,
waltzing and walking; successfully holding her own against the
world. History declares itself ashamed of spending so many words on
such a subject. But the Dancer of Friedrich, and the authoress,
prime or proximate, of <italic> Collini's Voltaire, <end italic>
claims a passing remembrance. Let us, if we can easily help it,
never speak of her more.


May 25th, 1744, just while Barberina began her pirouettings at
Berlin, poor Karl Edzard, Prince of East Friesland, long a weak
malingering creature, died, rather suddenly; childless, and the
last of his House, which had endured there about 300 years.
Our clever Wilhelmina at Baireuth, though readers have forgotten
the small circumstance, had married a superfluous Sister-in-law of
hers to this Karl Edward; and, they say, it was some fond hope of
progeny, suddenly dashed into nothingness, that finished the poor
man, that night of May 25th. In any case, his Territory falls to
Prussia, by Reich's Settlement of long standing (1683-1694);
which had been confirmed anew to the late King, Friedrich Wilhelm:
--we remember how he returned with it, honest man, from that
KLADRUP JOURNEY in 1732, and was sniffed at for bringing nothing
better. And in the interim, his royal Hanover Cousins, coveting
East Friesland, had clapt up an ERBVERBRUDERUNG with the poor
Prince there (Father, I think, of the one just dead): "A thing
ULTRA VIRES," argued Lawyers; "private, quasi-clandestine;
and posterior (in a sense) to Reich's CONCLUSUM, 1694."

On which ground, however, George II. now sued Fricdrich at Reich's
Law,--Friedrich, we need not say, having instantly taken possession
of Ost-Friesland. And there ensued arguing enough between them, for
years coming; very great expenditure of parchment, and of mutual
barking at the moon (done always by proxy, and easy to do);
which doubtless increased the mutual ill-feeling, but had no other
effect. Friedrich, who had been well awake to Ost-Friesland for
some time back, and had given his Official people (Cocceji his
Minister of Justice, Chancellor by and by, and one or two
subordinates) their precise Instructions, laid hold of it, with a
maximum of promptitude; thereby quashing a great deal of much more
dangerous litigation than Uncle George's.

"In all Germany, not excepting even Mecklenburg, there had been no
more anarchic spot than Ost-Friesland for the last sixty or seventy
years. A Country with parliamentary-life in extraordinary vivacity
(rising indeed to the suicidal or internecine pitch, in two or
three directions), and next to no regent-life at all. A Country
that had loved Freedom, not wisely but too well! Ritter Party,
Prince's Party, Towns' Party;--always two or more internecine
Parties: 'False Parliament you: traitors!' 'We? False YOU,
traitors!'--The Parish Constable, by general consent, kept walking;
but for Government there was this of the Parliamentary Eloquences
(three at once), and Freedom's battle, fancy it, bequeathed from
sire to son! 'The late Karl Edzard never once was in Embden, his
chief Town, though he lived within a dozen miles of it.'--And then,
still more questionable, all these energetic little Parties had
applied to the Neighboring Governments, and had each its small
Foreign Battalion, 'To protect US and our just franchises!'
Imperial Reich's-Safeguard Battalion, Dutch Battalion, Danish
Battalion,--Prussian, it first of all was (year 1683, Town of
Embden inviting the Great Elector), but it is not so now.
The Prussians had needed to be quietly swift, on that 25th day of
May, 1744.

"And truly they were so; Cocceji having all things ready;
leading party-men already secured to him, troops within call, and
the like. The Prussians--Embden Town-Councils inviting their
astonished Dutch Battalion not to be at home--marched quietly into
Embden 'next day,' and took possession of the guns. Marched to
Aurich (official metropolis), Danes and Imperial Safeguard saying
nothing; and, in short, within a week had, in their usual exact
fashion, got firm hold of chaotic Ost-Friesland. And proceeded to
manage it, in like sort,--with effects soon sensible, and steadily
continuing. Their Parliamentary-life Friedrich left in its full
vigor: 'Tax yourselves; what revenue you like; and see to the
outlay of it yourselves. Allow me, as LANDES-HERR, some trifle of
overplus: how much, then? Furthermore a few recruits,--or recruit-
money in lieu, if you like better!' And it was astonishing how the
Parliamentary vitality, not shortened of its least franchise, or
coerced in any particular, but merely stroked the right way of the
hair, by a gently formidable hand, with good head guiding, sank
almost straightway into dove-life, and never gave Friedrich any
trouble, whatever else it might do. The management was good;
the opportunity also was good. 'In one sitting, the Prussian Agent,
arbitrating between Embden and the Ritters, settled their
controversy, which had lasted fifty years.' The poor Country felt
grateful, which it might well do; as if for the laying of goblins,
for the ending of long-continued local typhoon! Friedrich's first
Visit, in 1751, was welcomed with universal jubilation; and poor
Ost-Friesland thanked him in still more solid ways, when occasion
rose. [Ranke, iii. 370-382.]

"It is not an important Country:--only about the size of Cheshire;
wet like it, and much inferior to it in cheese, in resources for
leather and live-stock, though it perhaps excels, again, in clover-
seeds, rape-seeds, Flanders horses, and the flax products.
The 'clear overplus' it yielded to Friedrich, as Sovereign
Administrator and Defender, was only 3,200 pounds; for recruit-
MONEY, 6,000 pounds (no recruits in CORPORE); in all, little more
than 9,000 pounds a year. But it had its uses too. Embden, bigger
than Chester, and with a better harbor, was a place of good trade;
and brought Friedrich into contact with sea-matters; in which, as
we shall find, he did make some creditable incipiencies, raising
expectations in the world; and might have carried it farther, had
not new Wars, far worse than this now at hand, interrupted him."

Friedrich was at Pyrmont, taking the waters, while this of
Friesland fell out; he had gone thither May 20th; was just arrived
there, four days before the death of Karl Edzard. [Rodenbeck,
p. 102.] His Officials, well pre-instructed, managed the Ost-
Friesland Question mainly themselves. Friedrich was taking the
waters; ostensibly nothing more. But he was withal, and still more
earnestly, consulting with a French Excellency (who also had felt a
need of the waters), about the French Campaign for this Season:
Whether Coigny was strong enough in the Middle-Rhine Countries;
how their Grand Army of the Netherlands shaped to prosper;
and other the like interesting points. [Ranke, iii. 165, 166.]
Frankfurt Union is just signed (May 22d). Most Christian Majesty is
himself under way to the Netherlands, himself going to command
there, as we shall see. "Good!" answers Friedrich: "But don't
weaken Coigny, think of Prince Karl on that side; don't detach from
Coigny, and reduce his 60,000 to 40,000!"

Plenty of mutual consulting, as they walk in the woods there.
And how profoundly obscure, to certain Official parties much
concerned, judge from the following small Document, preserved
by accident:--

LYTTELTON (our old Soissons Friend, now an Official in Prince Fred's
Household, friend of Pitt, and much else) TO HIS FATHER AT HAGLEY.

ARGYLE STREET, LONDON, "May 5th [16th], 1744.
"DEAR SIR,--Mr. West [Gilbert West, of whom there is still some
memory] comes with us to Hagley; and, if you give me leave, I will
bring our friend Thomson too"--oh Jamie Thamson, Jamie Thamson, oh!
"His SEASONS will be published in about a week's time, and a most
noble work they will be.

"I have no public news to tell you, which you have not had in the
Gazettes, except what is said in Private Letters from Germany, of
the King of Prussia's having drunk himself into direct madness, and
being confined on that account; which, if true, may have a great
effect upon the fate of Europe at this critical time." Yes indeed,
if true. "Those Letters say, that, at a review, he caused two men
to be taken out of the line, and shot, without any cause assigned
for it, and ordered a third to be murdered in the same manner;
but the Major of the regiment venturing to intercede for him, his
Majesty drew his sword, and would have killed the Officer too, if
he, perceiving his madness, had not taken the liberty to save
himself, by disarming the King; who was immediately shut up;
and the Queen, his Mother, has taken the Regency upon herself till
his recovery." PAPAE! "I do not give you this news for certain; but
it is generally believed in town. Lord Chesterfield says, 'He is
only thought to be MAD in Germany, because he has MORE WIT than
other Germans.'

"The King of Sardinia's Retreat from his lines at Villa Franca, and
the loss of that Town [20th April, one of those furious tussles,
French and Spaniard VERSUS Sardinian Majesty, in the COULISSES or
side-scenes of the Italian War-Theatre, neither stage nor side-
scenes of which shall concern us in this place], certainly bear a
very ill aspect; but it is not considered as"--anything to speak
of; nor was it. "We expect with impatience to know what will be the
effect of the Dutch Ambassador to Paris,--[to Valenciennes, as it
turns out, King Louis, on his high errand to the Netherlands, being
got so far; and the "effect" was no effect at all, except good
words on his part, and persistence in the battering down of Menin
and the Dutch Barrier, of which we shall hear ere long].

"I pray God the Summer may be happy to us, by being more easy than
usual to you,"--dear Father, much suffering by incurable ailments.
"It is the only thing wanting to make Hagley Park a Paradise.

"Poor Pope is, I am afraid, going to resign all that can die of him
to death;"--did actually die, 30th May (10th June): a world-tragedy
that too, though in small compass, and acting itself next door, at
Twickenham, without noise; a star of the firmament going out;--
twin-star, Swift (Carteret's old friend), likewise going out, sunk
in the socket, "a driveller and a show." ... "I am, with the truest
respect and affection, dear Sir, your most dutiful Son,--

[Ayscough, <italic> Lord Lyttelton's Miscellaneous Works, <end
italic> (Lond., 1776), iii. 318.]

Friedrich returned from Pyrmont, 11th June; saw, with a grief of
his own, with many thoughts well hidden, his Sister Ulrique whirled
away from him, 26th July, in the gray of the summer dawn.
In Berlin, in Prussia, nobody but one is aware of worse just
coming. And now the War-drums suddenly awaken again; and poor
readers--not to speak of poor Prussia and its King!--must return to
that uncomfortable sphere, till things mend.

End of Project Gutenberg's Etext History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 14


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