Infomotions, Inc.— Volume 15 / Carlyle, Thomas, 1795-1881

Author: Carlyle, Thomas, 1795-1881
Title: — Volume 15
Date: 2003-12-11
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History of Friedrich II of Prussia V

Volume 15

By Thomas Carlyle

March, 2000  [Etext #2115]

Project Gutenberg Etext Carlyle's "History of Fredrich II of Prussia"
volume 15
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                              BOOK XV.

                    IN THE GENERAL EUROPEAN ONE.

                    15th Aug. 1744-25th Dec. 1745.

                             Chapter I.

Battle being once seen to be inevitable, it was Friedrich's plan
not to wait for it, but to give it. Thanks to Friedrich Wilhelm and
himself, there is no Army, nor ever was any, in such continual
preparation. Military people say, "Some Countries take six months,
some twelve, to get in motion for war: but in three weeks Prussia
can be across the marches, and upon the throat of its enemy."
Which is an immense advantage to little Prussia among its big
neighbors. "Some Countries have a longer sword than Prussia;
but none can unsheathe it so soon:"--we hope, too, it is moderately
sharp, when wielded by a deft hand.

The French, as was intimated, are in great vigor, this Year;
thoroughly provoked; and especially since Friedrich sent his
Rothenburg among them, have been doing their very utmost.
Their main effort is in the Netherlands, at present;--and indeed,
as happened, continues all through this War to be. They by no means
intend, or ever did, to neglect Teutschland; yet it turns out, they
have pretty much done with their fighting there. And next Year,
driven or led by accidents of various kinds, they quit it
altogether; and turning their whole strength upon the Netherlands
and Italy, chiefly on the Netherlands, leave Friedrich, much to his
astonishment, with the German War hanging wholly round HIS neck,
and take no charge of it farther! In which, to Friedrich's
Biographers, there is this inestimable benefit, if far the reverse
to Friedrich's self: That we shall soon have done with the French,
then; with them and with so much else; and may, in time coming, for
most part, leave their huge Sorcerer's Sabbath of a European War to
dance itself out, well in the distance, not encumbering us farther,
like a circumambient Bedlam, as it has hitherto done.
Courage, reader! Let us give, in a glance or two, some notion of
the course things took, and what moment it was when Friedrich
struck in;--whom alone, or almost alone, we hope to follow
thenceforth; "Dismal Swamp" (so gracious was Heaven to us) lying
now mostly to rearward, little as we hoped it!

It was mere accident, a series of bad accidents, that led King
Louis and his Ministers into gradually forsaking Friedrich.
They were the farthest in the world from intending such a thing.
Contrariwise, what brain-beating, diplomatic spider-weaving,
practical contriving, now and afterwards, for that object;
especially now! Rothenburg, Noailles, Belleisle, Cardinal Tencin,
have been busy; not less the mistress Chateauroux, who admires
Friedrich, being indeed a high-minded unfortunate female, as they
say; and has thrown out Amelot, not for stammering alone. They are
able, almost high people, this new Chateauroux Ministry, compared
with some; and already show results.

Nay, what is most important of all, France has (unconsciously, or
by mere help of Noailles and luck) got a real General to her
Armies: Comte de Saxe, now Marechal de Saxe; who will shine very
splendent in these Netherland operations,--counter-shone by mere
Wades, D'Ahrembergs, Cumberlands,--in this and the Four following
Years. Noailles had always recognized Comte de Saxe; had long
striven for him, in Official quarters; and here gets the light of
him unveiled at last, and set on a high place: loyal Noailles.

This was the Year, this 1744, when Louis XV., urged by his
Chateauroux, the high-souled unfortunate female, appeared in person
at the head of his troops: "Go, Sire, go, MON CHOU (and I will
accompany); show yourself where a King should be, at the head of
your troops; be a second Louis-le-Grand!" Which he did, his
Chateauroux and he; actually went to the Netherlands, with baggage-
train immeasurable, including not cooks only, but play-actors with
their thunder-barrels (off from Paris, May 3d), to the admiration
of the Universe. [Adelung, iv. 113; Barbier, ii. 391, 394; Dulaure,
<italic> Hist. de Paris; <end italic> &c.] Took the command,
nominal-command, first days of June; and captured in no-time Menin,
Ipres, Furnes, and the Fort of Knock, and as much of the Austrian
Netherlands as he liked,--that is to say, saw Noailles and Saxe do
it;--walking rapidly forward from Siege to Siege, with a most
thundering artillery; old Marshal Wade and consorts dismally eating
their victuals, and looking on from the distance, unable to attempt
the least stroke in opposition. So that the Dutch Barrier, if
anybody now cared for it, did go all flat; and the Balance of Power
gets kicked out of its sacred pivot: to such purpose have the Dutch
been hoisted! Terrible to think of;--had not there, from the
opposite quarter, risen a surprising counterpoise; had not there
been a Prince Karl, with his 70,000, pressing victoriously over the
Rhine; which stayed the French in these sacrilegious procedures.


Prince Karl, some weeks ago, at Heilbronn, joined his Rhine Army,
which had gathered thither from the Austrian side, through Baiern,
and from the Hither-Austrian or Swabian Winter-quarters; with full
intent to be across the Rhine, and home upon Elsass and the
Compensation Countries, this Summer, under what difficulties
soever. Karl, or, as some whisper, old Marshal Traun, who is
nominally second in command, do make a glorious campaign of it,
this Year;--and lift the Cause of Liberty, at one time, to the
highest pitch it ever reached. Here, in brief terms, is Prince
Karl's Operation on the Rhine, much admired by military men:--

"STOCKSTADT, JUNE 20th, 1744. Some thirty and odd miles north of
Mannheim, the Rhine, before turning westward at Mainz, makes one
other of its many Islands (of which there are hundreds since the
leap at Schaffhausen): one other, and I think the biggest of them
all; perhaps two miles by five; which the Germans call KUHKOPF
(Cowhead), from the shape it has,--a narrow semi-ellipse;
River there splitting in two, one split (the western) going
straight, the other bending luxuriantly round: so that the HIND-
head or straight end of the Island lies towards France, and the
round end, or cow-LIPS (so to speak) towards native Teutschland,
and the woody Hills of the Berg-Strasse thereabouts. Stockstadt,
chief little Town looking over into this Cowhead Island, lies under
the CHIN: understand only farther that the German branch carries
more than two-thirds of the River; that on the Island itself there
is no town, or post of defence; and that Stockstadt is the place
for getting over. Coigny and the French, some 40,000, are guarding
the River hereabouts, with lines, with batteries, cordons, the best
they can; Seckendorf, with 20,000 more ('Imperial' Old Bavarian
Troops, revivified, recruited by French pay), is in his garrison of
Philipsburg, ready to help when needed:"--not moulting now, at
Wembdingen, in that dismal manner; new-feathered now into "Kaiser's
Army;" waiting in his Philipsburg to guard the River there.
"Coigny's French have ramparts, ditches, not quite unfurnished, on
their own shore, opposite this Cowhead Island (ISLE DE HERON, as
they call it); looking over to the hind-head, namely: but they have
nothing considerable there; and in the Island itself, nothing
whatever. 'If now Stockstadt were suddenly snatched by us,' thinks
Karl;--'if a few pontoons were nimbly swung in?'

"JUNE 20th,--Coigny's people all shooting FEU-DE-JOIE, for that
never enough to be celebrated Capture of Menin and the Dutch
Barrier a fortnight ago,--this is managed to be done. The active
General Barenklau, active Brigadier Daun under him, pushes rapidly
across into Kuhkopf; rapidly throws up intrenchments, ramparts,
mounts cannon, digs himself in,--greatly to Coigny's astonishment;
whose people hereabouts, and in all their lines and posts, are busy
shooting FEU-DE-JOIE for those immortal Dutch victories, at the
moment, and never dreaming of such a thing. Fresh force floods in,
Prince Karl himself arrives next day, in support of Barenklau;
Coigny (head-quarters at Speyer, forty miles south) need not
attempt dislodging him; but must stand upon his guard, and prepare
for worse. Which he does with diligence; shifting northward into
those Stockstadt-Mainz parts; calling Seckendorf across the River,
and otherwise doing his best,--for about ten days more, when worse,
and almost worst, did verily befall him.

"No attempt was made on Barenklau; nor, beyond the alarming of the
Coigny-Seckendorf people, did anything occur in Cowhead Island,--
unless it were the finis of an ugly bully and ruffian, who has more
than once afflicted us: which may be worth one word.
Colonel Mentzel [copper-faced Colonel, originally Play-actor,
"Spy in Persia," and I know not what] had been at the seizure of
Kuhkopf; a prominent man. Whom, on the fifth day after ('June
25th'), Prince Karl overwhelmed with joy, by handing him a Patent
of Generalcy: 'Just received from Court, my Friend, on account of
your merits old and late.'--'Aha,' said Barenklau, congratulating
warmly: 'Dine with me, then, Herr General Mentzel, this very day.
The Prince himself is to be there, Highness of Hessen-Darmstadt,
and who not; all are impatient to drink your health!' Mentzel had a
glorious dinner; still more glorious drink,--Prince Karl and the
others, it is said, egging him into much wild bluster and
gasconade, to season their much wine. Eminent swill of drinking,
with the loud coarse talk supposable, on the part of Mentzel and
consorts did go on, in this manner, all afternoon: in the evening,
drunk Mentzel came out for air; went strutting and staggering
about; emerging finally on the platform of some rampart, face of
him huge and red as that of the foggiest rising Moon;--and stood,
looking over into the Lorraine Country; belching out a storm of
oaths, as to his taking it, as to his doing this and that; and was
even flourishing his sword by way of accompaniment; when, lo,
whistling slightly through the summer air, a rifle-ball from some
sentry on the French side (writers say, it was a French drummer,
grown impatient, and snatching a sentry's piece) took the brain of
him, or the belly of him; and he rushed down at once, a totally
collapsed monster, and mere heap of dead ruin, never to trouble
mankind more." [<italic> Guerre de Boheme, <end italic> iii. 165.]
For which my readers and I are rather thankful. Voltaire, and
perhaps other memorable persons, sometimes mention this brute
(miraculous to the Plebs and Gazetteers); otherwise eternal
oblivion were the best we could do with him. Trenck also, readers
will be glad to understand, ends in jail and bedlam by and by.

"Prince Karl had not the least intention of crossing by this
Cowhead Island. Nevertheless he set about two other Bridges in the
neighborhood, nearer Mainz (few miles below that City);
kept manoeuvring his Force, in huge half-moon, round that quarter,
and mysteriously up and down; alarming Coigny wholly into the Mainz
region. For the space of ten days; and then, stealing off to
Schrock, a little Rhine Village above Philipsburg, many miles away
from Coigny and his vigilantes, he--

"NIGHT OF 30th JUNE-1st JULY, Suddenly shot Pandour Trenck,
followed by Nadasti and 6,000, across at Schrock who scattered
Seckendorf's poor outposts thereabouts to the winds; 'built a
bridge before morning, and next day another.' Next day Prince Karl
in person appeared; and on the 3d of July, had his whole Army with
its luggages across; and had seized the Lines of Lauterburg and
Weissenburg (celebrated northern defence of Elsass),--much to
Coigny's amazement; and remained inexpugnable there, with Elsass
open to him, and to Coigny shut, for the present! [Adelung, iv.
139-141.] Coigny made bitter wail, accusation, blame of Seckendorf,
blame of men and of things; even tried some fighting, Seckendorf
too doing feats, to recover those Lines of Weissenburg: but could
not do it. And, in fact, blazing to and fro in that excited rather
than luminous condition, could not do anything; except retire into
the strong posts of the background; and send express on express,
swifter than the wind if you can, to a victorious King overturning
the Dutch Barrier: 'Help, your Majesty, or we are lost; and France
is--what shall I say!'"

"Admirable feat of Strategy! What a General, this Prince Karl!"
exclaimed mankind,--Cause-of-Liberty mankind with special
enthusiasm; and took to writing LIVES of Prince Karl, [For
instance, <italic> The Life of his Highness Prince Charles of &c.,
with &c. &c. <end italic> (London, 1746); one of the most
distracted Blotches ever published under the name of Book;--
wakening thoughts of a public dimness very considerable indeed, to
which this could offer itself as lamp!] as well as tar-burning and
TE-DEUM-ing on an extensive scale. For it had sent the Cause of
Liberty bounding up again to the top of things, this of crossing
the Rhine, in such fashion. And, in effect, the Cause of Liberty,
and Prince Karl himself, had risen hereby to their acme or
culminating point in World-History; not to continue long at such
height, little as they dreamt of that, among their tar-burnings.
The feat itself--contrived by Nadasti, people say, and executed
(what was the real difficulty) by Traun--brought Prince Karl very
great renown, this Year; and is praised by Friedrich himself, now
and afterwards, as masterly, as Julius Caesar's method, and the
proper way of crossing rivers (when executable) in face of an
enemy. And indeed Prince Karl, owing to Traun or not, is highly
respectable in the way of Generalship at present; and did in these
Five Months, from June onward, really considerable things. At his
very acme of Life, as well as of Generalship; which, alas, soon
changed, poor man; never to culminate again. He had got, at the
beginning of the Year, the high Maria Theresa's one Sister,
Archduchess Maria Anna, to Wife; [Age then twenty-five gone:
"born 14th September, 1718; married to Prince Karl 7th January,
1744; died, of childbirth, 16th December same year" (Hormayr,
<italic> OEsterreichischer Plutarch, <end italic> iv. erstes
Baudchen, 54).] the crown of long mutual attachment; she safe now
at Brussels, diligent Co-Regent, and in a promising family-way; he
here walking on victorious:--need any man be happier? No man can be
supremely happy long; and this General's strategic felicity and his
domestic were fatally cut down almost together. The Cause of
Liberty, too, now at the top of its orbit, was--But let us stick by our Excerpting:

"DUNKIRK, 19th JULY, 1744 [Princess Ulrique's Wedding, just two
days ago]. King Louis, on hearing of the Job's-news from Elsass,
instantly suspended his Conquests in Flanders; detached Noailles,
detached this one and that, double-quick, Division after Division
(leaving Saxe, with 45,000, to his own resources, and the fatuities
of Marshal Wade); and, 19th July, himself hastens off from Dunkirk
(leaving much of the luggage, but not the Chateauroux behind him),
to save his Country, poor soul. But could not, in the least, save
it; the reverse rather. August 4th, he got to Metz, Belleisle's
strong town, about 100 miles from the actual scene; his detached
reinforcements, say 50,000 men or so, hanging out ahead like flame-
clouds, but uncertain how to act;--Noailles being always
cunctatious in time of crisis, and poor Louis himself nothing of a
Cloud-Compeller;--and then,

"METZ, AUGUST 8th, The Most Christian King fell ill; dangerously,
dreadfully, just like to die. Which entirely paralyzed Noailles and
Company, or reduced them to mere hysterics, and excitement of the
unluminous kind. And filled France in general, Paris in particular,
with terror, lamentation, prayers of forty hours; and such a
paroxysm of hero-worship as was never seen for such an object
before." [Espagnac, ii. 12; Adelung, iv. 180; <italic> Fastes de
Louis XV., <end italic> ii. 423; &c. &c.]

For the Cause of Liberty here, we consider, was the culminating
moment; Elsass, Lorraine and the Three Bishoprics lying in their
quasi-moribund condition; Austrian claims of Compensation ceasing
to be visions of the heated brain, and gaining some footing on the
Earth as facts. Prince Karl is here actually in Elsass, master of
the strong passes; elate in heart, he and his; France, again, as if
fallen paralytic, into temporary distraction; offering for
resistance nothing hitherto but that universal wailing of mankind,
Hero-worship of a thrice-lamentable nature, and the Prayers of
Forty-Hours! Most Christian Majesty, now IN EXTREMIS, centre of the
basest hubbub that ever was, is dismissing Chateauroux.
Noailles, Coigny and Company hang well back upon the Hill regions,
and strong posts which are not yet menaced; or fly vaguely, more or
less distractedly, hither and thither; not in the least like
fighting Karl, much less like beating him. Karl has Germany free at
his back (nay it is a German population round him here); neither
haversack nor cartridge-box like to fail: before him are only a
Noailles and consorts, flying vaguely about;--and there is in Karl,
or under the same cloak with him at present, a talent of
manoeuvring men, which even Friedrich finds masterly. If old
Marshal Wade, at the other end of the line, should chance to awaken
and press home on Saxe, and his remnant of French, with right
vigor? In fact, there was not, that I can see, for centuries past,
not even at the Siege of Lille in Marlborough's time, a more
imminent peril for France.


King Friedrich, on hearing of these Rhenish emergencies and of King
Louis's heroic advance to the rescue, perceived that for himself
too the moment was come; and hastened to inform heroic Louis, That
though the terms of their Bargain were not yet completed, Sweden,
Russia and other points being still in a pendent condition, he,
Friedrich,--with an eye to success of their Joint Adventure, and to
the indispensability of joint action, energy, and the top of one's
speed now or never,--would, by the middle of this same August, be
on the field with 100,000 men. "An invasion of Bohemia, will not
that astonish Prince Karl; and bring him to his Rhine-Bridges
again? Over which, if your Most Christian Majesty be active, he
will not get, except in a half, or wholly ruined state. Follow him
close; send the rest of your force to threaten Hanover; sit well on
the skirts of Prince Karl. Him as he hurries homeward, ruined or
half-ruined, him, or whatever Austrian will fight, I do my best to
beat. We may have Bohemia, and a beaten Austria, this very Autumn:
see,--and, in one Campaign, there is Peace ready for us!" This is
Friedrich's scheme of action; success certain, thinks he, if only
there be energy, activity, on your side, as there shall be on mine;
--and has sent Count Schmettau, filled with fiery speed and
determination, to keep the French full of the like, and concert
mutual operations.

"Magnanimous!" exclaim Noailles and the paralyzed French Gentlemen
(King Louis, I think, now past speech, for Schmettau only came
August 9th): "Most sublime behavior, on his Prussian Majesty's
part!" own they. And truly it is a fine manful indifference (by no
means so common as it should be) to all interests, to all
considerations, but that of a Joint Enterprise one has engaged in.
And truly, furthermore, it was immediate salvation to the paralyzed
French Gentlemen, in that alarming crisis; though they did not much
recognize it afterwards as such: and indeed were conspicuously
forgetful of all parts of it, when their own danger was over.

Maria Theresa's feelings may be conceived; George II's feelings;
and what the Cause of Liberty in general felt, and furiously said
and complained, when--suddenly as a DEUS EX MACHINA, or Supernal
Genie in the Minor Theatres--Friedrich stept in. Precisely in this
supreme crisis, 7th August, 1744, Friedrich's Minister, Graf von
Dohna, at Vienna, has given notice of the Frankfurt Union, and
solemn Engagement entered into: "Obliged in honor and conscience;
will and must now step forth to right an injured Kaiser;
cannot stand these high procedures against an Imperial Majesty
chosen by all the Princes of the Reich, this unheard-of protest
that the Kaiser is no Kaiser, as if all Germany were but Austria
and the Queen of Hungary's. Prussian Majesty has not the least
quarrel of his own with the Queen of Hungary, stands true, and will
stand, by the Treaty of Berlin and Breslau;--only, with certain
other German Princes, has done what all German Princes and peoples
not Austrian are bound to do, on behalf of their down-trodden
Kaiser, formed a Union of Frankfurt; and will, with armed hand if
indispensable, endeavor to see right done in that matter."
[In <italic> Adelung, <end italic> iv. 155, 156, the Declaration
itself (Audience, "7th August, 1744." Dohna off homeward "on the
second day after").]

This is the astonishing fact for the Cause of Liberty; and no
clamor and execration will avail anything. This man is prompt, too;
does not linger in getting out his Sword, when he has talked of it.
Prince Karl's Operation is likely to be marred amazingly. If this
swift King (comparable to the old Serpent for devices) were to
burst forth from his Silesian strengths; tread sharply on the TAIL
of Prince Karl's Operation, and bring back the formidably fanged
head of IT out of Alsace, five hundred miles all at once,--there
would be a business!

We will now quit the Rhine Operations, which indeed are not now of
moment; Friedrich being suddenly the key of events again. I add
only, what readers are vaguely aware of, that King Louis did not
die; that he lay at death's door for precisely one week (8th-15th
August), symptoms mending on the 15th. In the interim,--Grand-
Almoner Fitz-James (Uncle of our Conte di Spinelli) insisting that
a certain Cardinal, who had got the Sacraments in hand, should
insist; and endless ministerial intrigue being busy,--moribund
Louis had, when it came to the Sacramental point, been obliged to
dismiss his Chateauroux. Poor Chateauroux; an unfortunate female;
yet, one almost thinks, the best man among them: dismissed at Metz
here, and like to be mobbed! That was the one issue of King Louis's
death-sickness. Sublime sickness; during which all Paris wept
aloud, in terror and sorrow, like a child that has lost its mother
and sees a mastiff coming; wept sublimely, and did the Prayers of
Forty-Hours; and called King Louis Le BIEN-AIME (The Well-
beloved):--merely some obstruction in the royal bowels, it turned
out;--a good cathartic, and the Prayers of Forty-Hours, quite
reinstated matters. Nay reinstated even Chateauroux, some time
after,--"the Devil being well again," and, as the Proverb says,
quitting his monastic view. Reinstated Chateauroux: but this time,
poor creature, she continued only about a day:--"Sudden fever,
from excitement," said the Doctors: "Fever? Poison, you mean!"
whispered others, and looked for changes in the Ministry.
Enough, oh, enough!--

Old Marshal Wade did not awaken, though bawled to by his Ligoniers
and others, and much shaken about, poor old gentleman.
"No artillery to speak of," murmured he; "want baggage-wagons,
too!" and lay still. "Here is artillery!" answered the Official
people; "With my own money I will buy you baggage-wagons!" answered
the high Maria Anna, in her own name and her Prince Karl's, who are
Joint-Governors there. Possibly he would have awakened, had they
given him time. But time, in War especially, is the thing that is
never given. Once Friedrich HAD struck in, the moment was gone by.
Poor old Wade! Of him also enough.

                           Chapter II.


It was on Saturday, "early in the morning," 15th August, 1744, that
Friedrich set out, attended by his two eldest Brothers, Prince of
Prussia and Prince Henri, from Potsdam, towards this new Adventure,
which proved so famous since. Sudden, swift, to the world's
astonishment;--actually on march here, in three Columns (two
through Saxony by various routes southeastward, one from Silesia
through Glatz southwestward), to invade Bohemia: rumor says 100,000
strong, fact itself says upwards of 80,000, on their various
routes, converging towards Prag. [<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end
italic> ii. 1165. Orlich (ii. 25, 27) enumerates the various
regiments.] His Columns, especially his Saxon Columns, are already
on the road; he joins one Column, this night, at Wittenberg; and is
bent, through Saxony, towards the frontiers of Bohemia, at the
utmost military speed he has.

Through Saxony about 60,000 go: he has got the Kaiser's Order to
the Government of Saxony, "Our august Ally, requiring on our
Imperial business a transit through you;"--and Winterfeld, an
excellent soldier and negotiator, has gone forward to present said
Order. A Document which flurries the Dresden Officials beyond
measure. Their King is in Warsaw; their King, if here, could do
little; and indeed has been inclining to Maria Theresa this long
while. And Winterfeld insists on such despatch;--and not even the
Duke of Weissenfels is in Town, Dresden Officials "send off five
couriers and thirteen estafettes" to the poor old Duke;
[<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic> ii. 1163.] get him at
last; and-- The march is already taking effect; they may as well
consent to it: what can they do but consent! In the uttermost
flurry, they had set to fortifying Dresden; all hands driving
palisades, picking, delving, making COUPURES (trenches, or sunk
barricades) in the streets;--fatally aware that it can avail
nothing. Is not this the Kaiser's Order? Prussians, to the amount
of 60,000, are across our Frontiers, rapidly speeding on.

"Friedrich's Manifesto--under the modest Title, 'ANZEIGE DER
URSACHEN (Advertisement of the Causes which have induced his
Prussian Majesty to send the Romish Kaiser's Majesty some Auxiliary
Troops)'--had appeared in the Berlin Newspapers Thursday, 13th,
only two days before. An astonishment to all mankind; which gave
rise to endless misconceptions of Friedrich: but which, supporting
itself on proofs, on punctually excerpted foot-notes, is
intrinsically a modest, quiet Piece; and, what is singular in
Manifestoes, has nothing, or almost nothing, in it that is not, so
far as it goes, a perfect statement of the fact. 'Auxiliary troops,
that is our essential character. No war with her Hungarian Majesty,
or with any other, on our own score. But her Hungarian Majesty, how
has she treated the Romish Kaiser, her and our and the Reich's
Sovereign Head, and to what pass reduced him; refusing him Peace on
any terms, except those of self-annihilation; denying that he is a
Kaiser at all;'--and enumerates the various Imperial injuries, with
proof given, quiet footnotes by way of proof; and concludes in
these words: 'For himself his Majesty requires nothing.
The question here is not of his Majesty's own interest at all
[everything his Majesty required, or requires, is by the Treaty of
Berlin solemnly his, if the Reich and its Laws endure]: and he has
taken up arms simply and solely in the view of restoring to the
Reich its freedom, to the Kaiser his Headship of the Reich, and to
all Europe the Peace which is so desirable.' [Given in Seyfarth,
<italic> Beylage, <end italic> i. 121-136, with date
"August, 1744."]

"'Pretences, subterfuges, lies!' exclaimed the Austrian and Allied
Public everywhere, or strove to exclaim; especially the English
Public, which had no difficulty in so doing;--a Public comfortably
blank as to German facts or non-facts; and finding with amazement
only this a very certain fact, That hereby is their own Pragmatic
thunder checked in mid-volley in a most surprising manner, and the
triumphant Cause of Liberty brought to jeopardy again.
'Perfidious, ambitious, capricious!' exclaimed they: 'a Prince
without honor, without truth, without constancy;'--and completed,
for themselves, in hot rabid humor, that English Theory of
Friedrich which has prevailed ever since. Perhaps the most
surprising item of which is this latter, very prominent in those
old times, That Friedrich has no 'constancy,' but follows his
'caprices,' and accidental whirls of impulse:--item which has
dropped away in our times, though the others stand as stable as
ever. A monument of several things! Friedrich's suddenness is an
essential part of what fighting talent he has: if the Public,
thrown into flurry, cannot judge it well, they must even misjudge
it: what help is there?

"That the above were actually Friedrich's reasons for venturing
into this Big Game again, is not now disputable. And as to the
rumor, which rose afterwards (and was denied, and could only be
denied diplomatically to the ear, if even to the ear), That
Friedrich by Secret Article was 'to have for himself the Three
Bohemian Circles, Konigsgratz, Bunzlau, Leitmeritz, which lie
between Schlesien and Sachsen,' [<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end
italic> i. 1081; Scholl, ii. 349.]--there is not a doubt but
Friedrich had so bargained, 'Very well, if we can get said
Circles!' and would right cheerfully have kept and held them, had
the big game gone in all points completely well (game, to reinstate
the Kaiser BOTH in Bohemia and Bavaria) by Friedrich's fine
playing. Not a doubt of all this:--nor of what an extremely
hypothetic outlook it then and always was; greatly too weak for
enticing such a man."

Friedrich goes in Three Columns. One, on the south or left shore of
the Elbe, coming in various branches under Friedrich himself;
this alone will touch on Dresden, pass on the south side of
Dresden; gather itself about Pirna (in the Saxon Switzerland so
called, a notable locality); thence over the Metal Mountains into
Bohmen, by Toplitz, by Lowositz, Leitmeritz, and the Highway called
the Pascopol, famous in War. The Second Column, under Leopold the
Young Dessauer, goes on the other or north side of the Elbe, at a
fair distance; marching through the Lausitz (rendezvous or
starting-point was Bautzen in the Lausitz) straight south, to meet
the King at Leitmeritz, where the grand Magazine is to be;
and thence, still south, straight upon Prag, in conjunction with
his Majesty or parallel to him. [<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end
italic> i. 1081.] These are the Two Saxon Columns. The Third
Column, under Schwerin, collects itself in the interior of Silesia;
is issuing, by Glatz Country, through the Giant Mountains,
BOHMISCHE KAMME (Bohemian COMBS as they are called, which Tourists
know), by the Pass of Braunau,--disturbing the dreams of Rubezahl,
if Rubezahl happen to be there. This, say 20,000, will come down
upon Prag from the eastern side; and be first on the ground (31st
August),--first by one day. In the home parts of Silesia, well
eastward of Glatz, there is left another Force of 20,000, which can
go across the Austrian Border there, and hang upon the Hills,
threatening Olmutz and the Moravian Countries, should need be.

And so, in its Three Columns, from west, from north, from east, the
march, with a steady swiftness, proceeds. Important especially
those Two Saxon Columns from west and north: 60,000 of them, "with
a frightful (ENTSETZLICH) quantity of big guns coming up the Elbe."
Much is coming up the Elbe; indispensable Highway for this
Enterprise. Three months' provisions, endless artillery and
provender, is on the Elbe; 480 big boats, with immense VORSPANN (of
trace-horses, dreadful swearing, too, as I have heard), will pass
through the middle of Dresden: not landing by any means. "No, be
assured of it, ye Dresdeners, all flurried, palisaded, barricaded;
no hair of you shall be harmed." After a day or two, the flurry of
Saxony subsided; Prussians, under strict discipline, molest no
private person; pay their way; keep well aloof, to south and to
north, of Dresden (all but the necessary ammunition-escorts do);--
and require of the Official people nothing but what the Law of the
Reich authorizes to "Imperial Auxiliaries" in such case.
"The Saxons themselves," Friedrich observes, "had some 40,000, but
scattered about; King in Warsaw:--dreadful terror; making COUPURES
and TETES-DE-PONT;--could have made no defence." Had we diligently
spent eight days on them! reflects he afterwards. "To seize Saxony
[and hobble it with ropes, so that at any time you could pin it
motionless, and even, if need were, milk the substance out of it],
would not have detained us eight days." [<italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> iii. 53.] Which would have been the true
plan, had we known what was getting ready there! Certain it is,
Friedrich did no mischief, paid for everything; anxious to keep
well with Saxony; hoping always they might join him again, in such
a Cause. "Cause dear to every Patriot German Prince," urges
Friedrich,--though Bruhl, and the Polish, once "Moravian," Majesty
are of a very different opinion:--

"Maria Theresa, her thoughts at hearing of it may be imagined:
'The Evil Genius of my House afoot again! My high projects on
Elsass and Lorraine; Husband for Kaiser, Elsass for the Reich and
him, Lorraine for myself and him; gone probably to water!'
Nevertheless she said (an Official person heard her say), 'My right
is known to God; God will protect me, as He has already done.'
[<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic> ii. 1024.] And rose very
strong, and magnanimously defiant again; perhaps, at the bottom of
her heart, almost glad withal that she would now have a stroke for
her dear Silesia again, unhindered by Paladin George and his
Treaties and notions. What measures, against this nefarious
Prussian outbreak, hateful to gods and men, are possible, she
rapidly takes: in Bohemia, in Bavaria and her other Countries, that
are threatened or can help. And abates nothing of heart or hope;--
praying withal, immensely, she and her People, according to the
mode they have. Sending for Prince Karl, we need not say, double-
quick, as the very first thing.

"Of Maria Theresa in Hungary,--for she ran to Presburg again with
her woes (August 16th, Diet just assembling there),--let us say
only that Hungary was again chivalrous; that old Palfy and the
general Hungarian Nation answered in the old tone,--VIVAT MARIA;
AD ARMA, AD ARMA! with Tolpatches, Pandours, Warasdins;--and, in
short, that great and small, in infinite 'Insurrection,' have still
a stroke of battle in them PRO REGE NOSTRO. Scarcely above a
District or two (as the JASZERS and KAUERS, in their over-cautious
way) making the least difficulty. Much enthusiasm and unanimity in
all the others; here and there a Hungarian gentleman complaining
scornfully that their troops, known as among the best fighters in
Nature, are called irregular troops,--irregular, forsooth! In one
public consultation [District not important, not very spellable,
though doubtless pronounceable by natives to it], a gentleman
suggests that 'Winter is near; should not there be some slight
provision of tents, of shelter in the frozen sleety Mountains, to
our gallant fellows bound thither?' Upon which another starts up,
'When our Ancestors came out of Asia Minor, over the Palus Maeotis
bound in winter ice; and, sabre in hand, cut their way into this
fine Country which is still ours, what shelter had they? No talk of
tents, of barracks or accommodation there; each, wrapt in his sheep
skin, found it shelter sufficient. Tents!' [<italic> Helden-
Geschichte, <end italic> ii. 1030.] And the thing was carried
by acclamation.

"Wide wail in Bohemia that War is coming back. Nobility all making
off, some to Vienna or the intermediate Towns lying thitherward,
some to their Country-seats; all out of Prag. Willing mind on the
part of the Common People; which the Government strains every nerve
to make the most of. Here are fasts, processions, Prayers of Forty-
Hours; here, as in Vienna and elsewhere. In Vienna was a Three
Days' solemn Fast: the like in Prag, or better; with procession to
the shrine of St. Vitus,--little likely to help, I should fear.
'Rise, all fencible men,' exclaims the Government,--'at least we
will ballot, and make you rise:'--Militia people enter Prag to the
extent of 10,000; like to avail little, one would fear. General
Harsch, with reinforcement of real soldiers, is despatched from
Vienna; Harsch, one of our ablest soldiers since Khevenhuller died,
gets in still in time; and thus increases the Garrison of regulars
to 4,000, with a vigorous Captain to guide it. Old Count Ogilvy,
the same whom Saxe surprised two years ago in the moonlight,
snatching ladders from the gallows,--Ogilvy is again Commandant;
but this time nominal mainly, and with better outlooks, Harsch
being under him. In relays, 3,000 of the Militia men dig and shovel
night and day; repairing, perfecting the ramparts of the place.
Then, as to provisions, endless corn is introduced,--farmers
forced, the unwilling at the bayonet's point, to deliver in their
corn; much of it in sheaf, so that we have to thrash it in the
market-place, in the streets that are wide: and thus in Prag is
heard the sound of flails, among the Militia-drums and so many
other noises. With the great church-organs growling; and the bass
and treble MISERERE of the poor superstitious People rising, to
St. Vitus and others. In fact, it is a general Dance of St. Vitus,
--except that of the flails, and Militia-men working at the
ramparts,--mostly not leading any-whither." ["LETTER from a Citizen
of Prag," date, 21st Sept. (in <italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end
italic> ii. 1168), which gives several curious details.]

Meanwhile Friedrich's march from west, from north, from east, is
flowing on; diligent, swift; punctual to its times, its places; and
meets no impediment to speak of. At Tetschen on the Saxon-Bohemian
Frontier,--a pleasant Schloss perched on its crags, as Tourists
know, where the Elbe sweeps into Saxon Switzerland and its long
stone labyrinths,--at Tetschen the Austrians had taken post;
had tried to block the River, driving piles into it, and tumbling
boulders into it, with a view to stop the 480 Prussian Boats.
These people needed to be torn out, their piles and they: which was
done in two days, the soldier part of it; and occupied the boatmen
above a week, before all was clear again. Prosperous, correct to
program, all the rest; not needing mention from us;--here are the
few sparks from it that dwell in one's memory:--

"AUGUST 15th, 1744, King left Potsdam; joined his First Column that
night, at Wittenberg. Through Mieissen, Torgau, Freyberg; is at
Peterswalde, eastern slope of the Metal Mountains, August 25th;
all the Columns now on Bohemian ground.

"Friedrich had crossed Elbe by the Bridge of Meissen: on the
southern shore, politely waiting to receive his Majesty, there
stood Feldmarschall the Duke of Weissenfels; to whom the King gave
his hand," no doubt in friendly style, "and talked for above half
an hour,"--with such success! thinks Friedrich by and by. We have
heard of Weissenfels before; the same poor Weissenfels who was
Wilhelmina's Wooer in old time, now on the verge of sixty;
an extremely polite but weakish old gentleman; accidentally
preserved in History. One of those conspicuous "Human Clothes-
Horses" (phantasmal all but the digestive part), which abound in
that Eighteenth Century and others like it; and distress your
Historical studies. Poor old soul; now Feldmarschall and Commander-
in-Chief here. Has been in Turk and other Wars; with little profit
to himself or others. Used to like his glass, they say; is still
very poor, though now Duke in reality as well as title (succeeded
two egregious Brothers, some years since, who had been
spendthrift): he has still one other beating to get in this world,
--from Friedrich next year. Died altogether, two years hence; and
Wilhelmina heard no more of him.

"At Meissen Bridge, say some, was this Half-hour's Interview;
at Pirna, the Bridge of Pirna, others say; [See Orlich, ii. 25;
and <italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic> ii. 1166.]--quite
indifferent to us which. At Pirna, and hither and thither in Saxon
Switzerland, Friedrich certainly was. 'Who ever saw such positions,
your Majesty?' For Friedrich is always looking out, were it even
from the window of his carriage, and putting military problems to
himself in all manner of scenery, 'What would a man do, in that
kind of ground, if attacking, if attacked? with that hill, that
brook, that bit of bog?' and advises every Officer to be
continually doing the like. [MILITARY INSTRUCTIONS? RULES FOR A
GOOD COMMANDER OF &c.?--I have, for certain, read this Passage;
but the reference is gone again, like a sparrow from the house-
top!] That is the value of picturesque or other scenery to
Friedrich, and their effect on good Prussian Officers and him.

"... At Tetschen, Colonel Kahlbutz," diligent Prussian Colonel,
"plucks out those 100 Austrians from their rock nest there;
makes them prisoners of war;--which detained the Leitmeritz branch
of us two days. August 28th, junction at Leitmeritz thereupon.
Magazine established there. Boats coming on presently. Friedrich
himself camped at Lobositz in this part,"--Lobositz, or Lowositz,
which he will remember one day.

"AUGUST 29th, March to Budin; that is, southward, across the Eger,
arrive within forty miles of Prag. Austrian Bathyani, summoned
hastily out of his Bavarian posts, to succor in this pressing
emergency, has arrived in these neighborhoods,--some 12,000
regulars under him, preceded by clouds of hussars, whom Ziethen
smites a little, by way of handsel;--no other Austrian force to
speak of hereabouts; and we are now between Bathyani and Prag.

"SEPTEMBER 1st, To Mickowitz, near Welwarn, twenty miles from Prag.
September 2d, Camp on the Weissenberg there." [<italic> Helden-
Geschichte, <end italic> i. 1080.]

And so they are all assembled about Prag, begirdling the poor
City,--third Siege it has stood within these three years (since
that moonlight November night in 1741);--and are only waiting for
their heavy artillery to begin battering. The poor inhabitants, in
spite of three sieges; the 10,000 raw militia-men, mostly of
Hungarian breed; the 4,000 regulars, and Harsch and old Ogilvy, are
all disposed to do their best. Friedrich is naturally in haste to
get hold of Prag. But he finds, on taking survey: that the sword-
in-hand method is not now, as in 1741, feasible at all; that the
place is in good posture of strength; and will need a hot battering
to tear it open. Owing to that accident at Tetschen, the siege-
cannon are not yet come up: "Build your batteries, your Moldau-
bridges, your communications, till the cannon come; and beware of
Bathyani meddling with your cannon by the road!"

"Bathyani is within twenty miles of us, at Beraun, a compact little
Town to southwest; gathering a Magazine there; and ready for
enterprises,--in more force than Friedrich guesses. 'Drive him out,
seize that Magazine of his!' orders Friedrich (September 5th);
and despatches General Hacke on it, a right man,"--at whose wedding
we assisted (wedding to an heiress, long since, in Friedrich
Wilhelm's time), if anybody now remembered. "And on the morrow
there falls out a pretty little 'Action of Beraun,' about which
great noise was made in the Gazettes PRO and CONTRA: which did not
dislodge Bathyani by airy means; but which might easily have ruined
the impetuous Hacke and his 6,000, getting into masked batteries,
Pandour whirlwinds, charges of horses 'from front, from rear, and
from both flanks,'--had not he, with masterly promptitude, whirled
himself out of it, snatched instantly what best post there was, and
defended himself inexpugnably there, for six hours, till relief
came." [DIE BEY BERAUN VORGEFALLENE ACTION (in Seyfarth, <italic>
Beylage, <end italic> i. 136, 137).] Brilliant little action, well
performed on both sides, but leading to nothing; and which shall
not concern us farther. Except to say that Bathyani did now, more
at his leisure, retire out of harm's way; and begin collecting
Magazines at Pilsen far rearward, which may prove useful to Prince
Karl, in the route Prince Karl is upon.

Siege-cannon having at last come (September 8th), the batteries are
all mounted:--on Wednesday, 9th, late at night, the Artillery, "in
enormous quantity," opens its dread throat; poor Prag is startled
from its bed by torrents of shot, solid and shell, from three
different quarters; and makes haste to stand to its guns.
From three different quarters; from Bubenetsch northward; from the
Upland of St. Lawrence (famed WEISSENBERG, or White-Hill) westward;
and from the Ziscaberg eastward (Hill of Zisca, where iron Zisca
posted himself on a grand occasion once),--which latter is a broad
long Hill, west end of it falling sheer over Prag; and on another
point of it, highest point of all, the Praguers have a strong
battery and works. The Prag guns otherwise are not too effectual;
planted mostly on low ground. By much the best Prag battery is this
of the Ziscaberg. And this, after two days' experience had of it,
the Prussians determine to take on the morrow.

SEPTEMBER 12th, Schwerin, who commands on that side, assaults
accordingly; with the due steadfastness and stormfulness:
throwing shells and balls by way of prelude. Friedrich, with some
group of staff-officers and dignitaries, steps out on the
Bubenetsch post, to see how this affair of the Ziscaberg will
prosper: the Praguers thereabouts, seeing so many dignitaries, turn
cannon on them. "Disperse, IHR HERREN; have a care!" cried
Friedrich; not himself much minding, so intent upon the Ziscaberg.
And could have skipt indifferently over your cannon-balls ploughing
the ground,--had not one fateful ball shattered out the life of
poor Prince Wilhelm; a good young Cousin of his, shot down here at
his hand. Doubtless a sharp moment for the King. Prince Margraf
Wilhelm and a poor young page, there they lie dead; indifferent to
the Ziscaberg and all coming wars of mankind. Lamentation,
naturally, for this young man,--Brother to the one who fell at
Mollwitz, youngest Brother of the Margraf Karl, who commands in
this Bubenetsch redoubt:--But we must lift our eye-glass again;
see how Schwerin is prospering. Schwerin, with due steadfastness
and stormfulness, after his prelude of bomb-shells, rushes on
double-quick; cannot be withstood; hurls out the Praguers, and
seizes their battery; a ruinous loss to them.

Their grand Zisca redoubt is gone, then; and two subsidiary small
redoubts behind it withal, which the French had built, and named
"the magpie-nests (NIDS A PIE);" these also are ours. And we
overhang, from our Zisca Hill, the very roofs, as it were;
and there is nothing but a long bare curtain now in this quarter,
ready to be battered in breach, and soon holed, if needful. It is
not needful,--not quite. In the course of three days more, our
Bubenetsch battery, of enormous power, has been so diligent, it has
set fire to the Water-mill; burns irretrievably the Water-mill, and
still worse, the wooden Sluice of the Moldau; so that the river
falls to the everywhere wadable pitch. And Governor Harsch
perceives that all this quarter of the Town is open to any comer;--
and, in fact, that he will have to get away, the best he can.

White flag accordingly (Tuesday, 15th): "Free withdrawal, to the
Wischerad; won't you?" "By no manner of means!" answers Friedrich.
Bids Schwerin from his Ziscaberg make a hole or two in that
"curtain" opposite him; and gets ready for storm. Upon which
Harsch, next morning, has to beat the chamade, and surrender
Prisoner of War. And thus, Wednesday, 16th, it is done: a siege of
one week, no more,--after all that thrashing of grain, drilling of
militia, and other spirited preparation. Harsch could not help it;
the Prussian cannonading was so furious. [Orlich, ii. 36-39;
<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic> i. 1082, and ii. 1168;
<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 56; &c. &c.]

Prag has to swear fealty to the Kaiser; and "pay a ransom of
200,000 pounds." Drilled militia, regulars, Hungarians, about
16,000,--only that many of the Tolpatches contrived to whisk
loose,--are marched prisoners to Glatz and other strong places.
Prag City, with plenty of provision in it, is ours. A brilliant
beginning of a Campaign; the eyes of all Europe turned again, in
very various humor, on this young King. If only the French do their
duty, and hang well on the skirts of Marshal Traun (or of Prince
Karl, the Cloak of Traun), who is hastening hitherward all he can.

                          Chapter III.


This electrically sudden operation on Prag was considered by
astonished mankind, whatever else they might think about it, a
decidedly brilliant feat of War: falling like a bolt out of the
blue,--like three bolts, suddenly coalescing over Prag, and
striking it down. Friedrich himself, though there is nothing of
boast audible here or anywhere, was evidently very well satisfied;
and thought the aspects good. There is Prince Karl whirling
instantly back from his Strasburg Prospects; the general St. Vitus
Dance of Austrian things rising higher and higher in these home
parts:--reasonable hope that "in the course of one Campaign," proud
obstinate Austria might feel itself so wrung and screwed as to be
glad of Peace with neighbors not wishing War. That was the young
King's calculation at this time. And, had France done at all as it
promised,--or had the young King himself been considerably wiser
than he was,--he had not been disappointed in the way we shall see!

Friedrich admits he did not understand War at this period. His own
scheme now was: To move towards the southwest, there to abolish
Bathyani and his Tolpatches, who are busy gathering Magazines for
Prince Karl's advent; to seize the said Magazines, which will be
very useful to us; then advance straight towards the Passes of the
Bohemian Mountains. Towns of Furth, Waldmunchen, unfortunate Town
of Cham (burnt by Trenck, where masons are now busy); these stand
successive in the grand Pass, through which tbe highway runs;
some hundred miles or so from where we are: march, at one's
swiftest, thitherward, Bathyani's Magazines to help; and there
await Prince Karl? It was Friedrich's own notion; not a bad one,
though not the best. The best, he admits, would have been: To stay
pretty much where he was; abolish Bathyani's Tolpatch people,
seizing their Magazines, and collecting others; in general, well
rooting and fencing himself in Prag, and in the Circles that lie
thereabouts upon the Elbe,--bounded to southward by the Sazawa
(branch of the Moldau), which runs parallel to the Elbe;--but well
refusing to stir much farther at such an advanced season of
the year.

That second plan would have been the wisest:--then why not, follow
it? Too tame a plan for the youthful mind. Besides, we perceive, as
indeed is intimated by himself, he dreaded the force of public
opinion in France. "Aha, look at your King of Prussia again.
Gone to conquer Bohemia; and, except the Three Circles he himself
is to have of it, lets Bohemia go to the winds!" This sort of
thing, Friedrich admits, he dreaded too much, at that young period;
so loud had the criticisms been on him, in the time of the Breslau
Treaty: "Out upon your King of Prussia; call you that an honorable
Ally!" Undoubtedly a weakness in the young King; inasmuch, says he,
as "every General [and every man, add we] should look to the fact,
not to the rumor of the fact." Well; but, at least, he will adopt
his own other notion; that of making for the Passes of the Bohemian
Mountains; to abolish Bathyani at least, and lock the door upon
Prince Karl's advent? That was his own plan; and, though second-
best, that also would have done well, had there been no third.

But there was, as we hinted, a third plan, ardently favored by
Belleisle, whose war-talent Friedrich much respected at this time:
plan built on Belleisle's reminiscences of the old Tabor-Budweis
businesses, and totally inapplicable now. Belleisle said,
"Go southeast, not southwest; right towards the Austrian Frontier
itself; that will frighten Austria into a fine tremor. Shut up the
roads from Austria: Budweis, Neuhaus; seize those two Highroad
Towns, and keep them, if you would hold Bohemia; the want of them
was our ruin there." Your ruin, yes: but your enemy was not coming
from Alsace and the southwest then. He was coming from Austria;
and your own home lay on the southwest: it is all different now!
Friedrich might well think himself bewitched not to have gone for
Cham and Furth, and the Passes of the Bohmer-Wald, according to his
own notion. But so it was; he yielded to the big reputation of
Belleisle, and to fear of what the world would say of him in
France; a weakness which he will perhaps be taught not to repeat.
In fact, he is now about to be taught several things;--and will
have to pay his school-wages as he goes.

                       HIS FRENCH FRIENDS.

Friedrich made no delay in Prag; in haste at this late time of
year. September 17th, on the very morrow of the Siege, the
Prussians get in motion southward; on the 19th, Friedrich, from his
post to north of the City, defiles through Prag, on march to
Kunraditz,--first stage on that questionable Expedition up the
Moldau Valley, right bank; towards Tabor, Budweis, Neuhaus;
to threaten Austria, and please Belleisle and the French.

Prag is left under General Einsiedel with a small garrison of
5,000;--Einsiedel, a steady elderly gentleman, favorite of
Friedrich Wilhelm's, has brief order, or outline of order to be
filled up by his own good sense. Posadowsky follows the march, with
as many meal-wagons as possible,--draught-cattle in very
ineffectual condition. Our main Magazine is at Leitmeritz (should
have been brought on to Prag, thinks Friedrich); Commissariat very
ill-managed in comparison to what it ought to be,--to what it shall
be, if we ever live to make another Campaign. Heavy artillery is
left in Prag (another fault); and from each regiment, one of its
baggage-wagons. [<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic> i. 1083;
Orlich, ii. 41 et seqq.; <italic> Frederic, iii. 59; &c.] "We rest
a day here at Kunraditz: 21st September, get to the Sazawa River;
--22d, to Bistritz (rest a day);--26th, to Miltschin; and 27th, to
Tabor:"--But the Diary would be tedious.

Friedrich goes in two Columns; one along the great road towards
Tabor, under Schwerin this, and Friedrich mainly with him; the
other to the right, along the River's bank, under Leopold, Young
Dessauer, which has to go by wild country roads, or now and then
roads of its own making; and much needs the pioneer (a difficult
march in the shortening days). Posadowsky follows with the
proviant, drawn by cattle of the horse and ox species, daily
falling down starved: great swearing there too, I doubt not!
General Nassau is vanguard, and stretches forward successfully at a
much lighter pace.

There are two Rivers, considerable branches of the Moldau, coming
from eastward; which, and first of them the Sazawa, concern us
here. After mounting the southern Uplands from Prag for a day or
two, you then begin to drop again, into the hollow of a River
called Sazawa, important in Bohemian Wars. It is of winding course,
the first considerable branch of the Moldau, rising in Teutschbrod
Country, seventy or eighty miles to east of us: in regard to
Sazawa, there is, at present, no difficulty about crossing; the
Country being all ours. After the Sazawa, mount again, long miles,
day after day, through intricate stony desolation, rocks, bogs,
untrimmed woods, you will get to Miltschin, thence to Tabor:
Miltschin is the crown of that rough moor country; from Prag to
Tabor is some sixty miles. After Miltschin the course of those
brown mountain-brooks is all towards the Luschnitz, the next
considerable branch of the Moldau; branch still longer and more
winding than the Sazawa; Tabor towers up near this branch; Budweis,
on the Moldau itself, is forty miles farther; and there at last you
are out of the stony moors, and in a rich champaign comfortable to
man and horse, were you but once there, after plodding through the
desolations. But from that Sazawa by the Luschnitz on to Budweis,
mounting and falling in such fashion, there must be ninety miles or
thereby. Plod along; and keep a sharp eye on the whirling clouds of
Pandours, for those too have got across upon us,--added to the
other tempests of Autumn.

On the ninth day of their march, the Prussians begin to descry on
the horizon ahead the steeples and chimney-tops of Tabor, on its
high scarped rock, or "Hill of Zisca,"--for it was Zisca and his
Hussites that built themselves this Bit of Inexpugnability, and
named it Tabor from their Bibles,--in those waste mountain regions.
On the tenth day (27th September), the Prussians without difficulty
took Tabor; walls being ruined, garrison small. We lie at Tabor
till the 30th, last day of September. Thence, 2d October, part of
us to Moldau-Tein rightwards; where cross the Moldau by a Bridge,--
"Bridge" one has heard of, in old Broglio times;--cross there, with
intent (easily successful) to snatch that "Castle of Frauenberg,"
darling of Broglio, for which he fought his Pharsalia of a Sahay to
no purpose!

Both Columns got united at Tabor; and paused for a day or two, to
rest, and gather up their draggled skirts there. The Expedition
does not improve in promise, as we advance in it; the march one of
the most untowardly; and Posadowsky comes up with only half of his
provision-carts,--half of his cattle having fallen down of bad
weather, hill-roads and starvation; what could he do? That is an
ominous circumstance, not the less.

Three things are against the Prussians on this march; two of them
accidental things. FIRST, there is, at this late season too, the
intrinsic nature of the Country; which Friedrich with emphasis
describes as boggy, stony, precipitous; a waste, hungry and
altogether barren Country,--too emphatically so described. But then
SECONDLY, what might have been otherwise, the Population, worked
upon by Austrian officials, all fly from the sight of us;
nothing but fireless deserted hamlets; and the corn, if they ever
had any, all thrashed and hidden. No amount of money can purchase
any service from them. Poor dark creatures; not loving Austria
much, but loving some others even less, it would appear. Of Bigoted
Papist Creed, for one thing; that is a great point. We do not
meddle with their worship more or less; but we are Heretics, and
they hate us as the Night. Which is a dreadful difficulty you
always have in Bohemia: nowhere but in the Circle of Konigsgraz,
where there are Hussites (far to the rear of us at this time), will
you find it otherwise. This is difficulty second.

Then, THIRDLY, what much aggravates it,--we neglected to abolish
Bathyani! And here are Bathyani's Pandours come across the Moldau
on us. Plenty of Pandours;--to whom "10,000 fresh Hungarians," of a
new Insurrection which has been got up there, are daily speeding
forward to add themselves:--such a swarm of hornets, as darkens the
very daylight for you. Vain to scourge them down, to burn them off
by blaze of gunpowder: they fly fast; but are straightway back
again. They lurk in these bushy wildernesses, scraggy woods:
no foraging possible, unless whole regiments are sent out to do it;
you cannot get a letter safely carried for them. They are an
unspeakable contemptible grief to the earnest leader of men.--Let
us proceed, however; it will serve nothing to complain. Let us hope
the French sit well on the skirts of Prince Karl: these sorrowful
labors may all turn to good, in that case.

Friedrich pushes on from Tabor; shoots partly (as we have seen)
across the Moldau, to the left bank as well; captures romantic
Frauenberg on its high rock, where Broglio got into such a fluster
once. We could push to Pisek, too, and make a "Bivouac of Pisek,"
if we lost our wits! Nassau is in Budweis, in Neuhaus; and proper
garrisons are gone thither: nothing wanting on our side of the
business. But these Pandours, these 10,000 Insurrection Hungarians,
with their Trencks spurring them! A continual unblessed swarm of
hornets, these; which shut out the very light of day from us.
Too literally the light of day: we can get no free messaging from
part to part of our own Army even. "As many as six Orderlies have
been despatched to an outlying General; and not one of them could
get through to him. They have snapt up three Letter-bags destined
for the King himself. For four weeks he is absolutely shut out from
the rest of Europe;" knows not in the least what the Kaiser, or the
Most Christian or any other King, is doing; or whether the French
are sitting well on Prince Karl's skirts, or not attempting that at
all. This also is a thing to be amended, a thing you had to learn,
your Majesty? An Army absolutely shut out from news, from letters,
messages to or fro, and groping its way in darkness, owing to these
circumambient thunder-clouds of Tolpatches, is not a well-situated
Army! And alas, when at last the Letter-bag did get through, and--
But let us not anticipate!

At Tabor there arose two opinions; which, in spite of the King's
presence, was a new difficulty. South from Tabor a day's march, the
Highway splits; direct way for Vienna; left-hand goes to Neuhaus,
right-hand, or straightforward rather, goes to Budweis, bearing
upon Linz: which of these two? Nassau has already seized Budweis;
and it is a habitable champaign country in comparison.
Neuhaus, farther from the Moldau and its uses, but more imminent on
Austria, would be easy to seize; and would frighten the Enemy more.
Leopold the Young Dcssauer is for Budweis; rapid Schwerin, a hardy
outspoken man, is emphatic for the other place as Head-quarter.
So emphatic are both, that the two Generals quarrel there;
and Friedrich needs his authority to keep them from outbreaks, from
open incompatibility henceforth, which would be destructive to the
service. For the rest, Friedrich seizes both places; sends a
detachment to Neuhaus as well; but holds by Budweis and the Moldau
region with his main Army; which was not quite gratifying to the
hardy Schwerin. On the opposite or left bank, holding Frauenberg,
the renowned Hill-fortress there, we make inroads at discretion:
but the country is woody, favorable to Pandours; and the right bank
is our chief scene of action. How we are to maintain ourselves in
this country? To winter in these towns between the Sazawa and the
Luschnitz? Unless the French sit well on Prince Karl's skirts, it
will not be possible.

                      AT SUCH RUINOUS EXPENSE.

French sitting well on Prince Karl's skirts? They are not molesting
Prince Karl in the smallest; never tried such a thing;--are turned
away to the Brisgan, to the Upper Rhine Country; gone to besiege
Freyburg there, and seize Towns; about the Lake of Constance, as if
there were no Friedrich in the game! It must be owned the French do
liberally pay off old scores against Friedrich,--if, except in
their own imagination, they had old scores against him. No man ever
delivered them from a more imminent peril; and they, the rope once
cut that was strangling them, magnificently forget who cut it; and
celebrate only their own distinguished conduct during and after the
operation. To a degree truly wonderful.

It was moonlight, clear as day that night, 23d August, when Prince
Karl had to recross the Rhine, close in their neighborhood;
[<italic> Guerre de Boheme, <end italic> iii. 196.]--and instead of
harassing Prince Karl "to half or to whole ruin," as the bargain
was, their distinguished conduct consisted in going quietly to
their beds (old Marechal de Noailles even calling back some of his
too forward subalterns), and joyfully leaving Prince Karl, then and
afterwards, to cross the Rhine, and march for Bohmen, at his own
perfect convenience.

"Seckendorf will sit on Karl's skirts," they said: "too late for
US, this season; next season, you shall see!" Such was their
theory, after Louis got that cathartic, and rose from bed.
Schmettau, with his importunities, which at last irritated
everybody, could make nothing more of it. "Let the King of France
crown his glories by the Siege of Freyburg, the conquest of
Brisgau:--for behoof of the poor Kaiser, don't you observe?
Hither Austria is the Kaiser's;--and furthermore, were Freyburg
gone, there will be no invading of Elsass again" (which is anotber
privately very interesting point)!

And there, at Freyburg, the Most Christian King now is, and his
Army up to the knees in mud, conquering Hither Austria; besieging
Freyburg, with much difficulty owing to the wet,--besieging there
with what energy; a spectacle to the world! And has, for the
present, but one wife, no mistress either! With rapturous eyes
France looks on; with admiration too big for words. Voltaire, I
have heard, made pilgrimage to Freyburg, with rhymed Panegyric in
his pocket; saw those miraculous operations of a Most Christian
King miraculously awakened; and had the honor to present said
Panegyric; and be seen, for the first time, by the royal eyes,--
which did not seem to relish him much. [The Panegyric (EPITRE AU
ROI DEVANT FRIBOURG) is in <italic> OEuvres de Voltaire, <end
italic> xvii. 184.] Since the first days of October, Freyburg had
been under constant assault; "amid rains, amid frosts; a siege long
and murderous" (to the besieging party);--and was not got till
November 5th; not quite entirely, the Citadels of it, till November
25th; Majesty gone home to Paris, to illuminations and triumphal
arches, in the interim. [Adelung, iv. 266; Barbier, ii. 414 (13th
November, &c.), for the illuminations, grand in the extreme, in
spite of wild rains and winds.] It had been a difficult and bloody
conquest to him, this of Freyburg and the Brisgau Country; and I
never heard that either the Kaiser or he got sensible advantage by
it,--though Prince Karl, on the present occasion, might be said to
get a great deal.

"Seckendorf will do your Prince Karl," they had cried always:
"Seckendorf and his Prussian Majesty! Are not we conquering Hither
Austria here, for the Kaiser's behoof?" Seckendorf they did
officially appoint to pursue; appoint or allow;--and laid all the
blame on Seckendorf; who perhaps deserved his share of it.
Very certain it is, Seckendorf did little or nothing to Prince
Karl; marched "leisurely behind him through the Ober-Pfalz,"--
skirting Baireuth Country, Karl and he, to Wilhelmina's grief;
[Her Letters (<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xxvii.
i. 133, &c.).]--"leisurely behind him at a distance of four days,"
knew better than meddle with Prince Karl. So that Prince Karl, "in
twenty-one marches," disturbed only by the elements and bad roads,
reached Waldmunchen 26th September, in the Furth-Cham Country;
[Ranke, iii. 187.] and was heard to exclaim: "We are let off for
the fright, then (NOUS VOILA QUITTES POUR LA PEUR)!"--Seckendorf,
finding nothing to live upon in Ober-Pfalz, could not attend Prince
Karl farther; but turned leftwards home to Bavaria; made a kind of
Second "Reconquest of Bavaria" (on exactly the same terms as the
First, Austrian occupants being all called off to assist in Bohmen
again);--concerning which, here is an Excerpt:--

"Seckendorf, following at his leisure, and joined by the Hessians
and Pfalzers, so as now to exceed 30,000, leaves Prince Karl and
the rest of the enterprise to do as it can; and applies himself,
for his own share, as the needfulest thing, to getting hold of
Bavaria again, that his poor Kaiser may have where to lay his head,
and pay old servants their wages. Dreadfully exclaimed against, the
old gentleman, especially by the French co-managers: 'Why did not
the old traitor stick in the rear of Prince Karl, in the difficult
passes, and drive him prone,--while we went besieging Freyburg, and
poaching about, trying for a bit of the Brisgau while chance
served!' A traitor beyond doubt; probably bought with money down:
thinks Valori. But, after all, what could Seckendorf do? He is now
of weight for Barenklau and Bavaria, not for much more. He does
sweep Barenklau and his Austrians from Bavaria, clear out (in the
course of this October), all but Ingolstadt and two or three strong
towns,--Passau especially, 'which can be blockaded, and afterwards
besieged if needful.' For the rest, he is dreadfully ill-off for
provisions, incapable of the least, attempt on Passau (as Friedrich
urged, on hearing of him again); and will have to canton himself in
home-quarters, and live by his shifts till Spring.

"The noise of French censure rises loud, against not themselves,
but against Seckendorf:--Friedrich, before that Tolpatch eclipse of
Correspondence [when three of his Letter-bags were seized, and he
fell quite dark], had too well foreboded, and contemptuously
expressed his astonishment at the blame BOTH were well earning:
Passau, said he, cannot you go at least upon Passau; which might
alarm the Enemy a little, and drag him homewards? 'Adieu, my dear
Seckendorf, your Officer will tell you how we did the Siege of
Prag. You and your French are wetted hens (POULES MOUILLEES),'--
cowering about like drenched hens in a day of set rain. 'As I hear
nothing of either of you, I must try to get out of this business
without your help;'"--otherwise it will be ill for me indeed!
[Excerpted Fragment of a Letter from Friedrich,--(exact date not
given, date of EXCERPT is, Donanworth Country, 23d September,
1744),--which the French Agent in Seckendorf's Army had a reading
of (<italic> Campagnes de Coigny, <end italic> iv. 185-187;
ib. 216-219: cited in Adelung, iv. 225).] "Which latter expression
alarmed the French, and set them upon writing and bustling, but not
upon doing anything."

"Prince Karl had crossed the Rhine unmolested, in the clearest
moonlight, August 23d-24th; Seckendorf was not wholly got to
Heilbronn, September 8th: a pretty way behind Prince Karl!
The 6,000 Hessians, formerly in English pay, indignant Landgraf
Wilhelm [who never could forgive that Machiavellian conduct of
Carteret at Hanau, never till he found out what it really was] has,
this year, put into French pay. And they have now joined
Seckendorf; [Espagnac, ii. 13; Buchholz, ii. 123.] Prince Friedrich
[Britannic Majesty's Son-in-law], not good fat Uncle George,
commanding them henceforth:--with extreme lack of profit to Prince
Friedrich, to the Hessians, and to the French, as will appear in
time. These 6,000, and certain thousands of Pfalzers likewise in
French pay, are now with Seckendorf, and have raised him to above
30,000;--it is the one fruit King Friedrich has got by that 'Union
of Frankfurt,' and by all his long prospective haggling, and
struggling for a 'Union of German Princes in general.' Two pears,
after that long shaking of the tree; both pears rotten, or indeed
falling into Seckendorf, who is a basket of such quality!
'Seckendorf, increased in this munificent manner, can he still do
nothing?' cry the French: 'the old traitor!'--'I have no
magazines,' said Seckendorf, 'nothing to live upon, to shoot with;
no money!' And it is a mutual crescendo between the 'perfidious
Seckendorf' and them; without work done. In the Nurnberg Country,
some Hussars of his picked up Lord Holderness, an English
Ambassador making for Venice by that bad route. 'Prisoner, are not
you?' But they did not use him ill; on consideration, the Heads of
Imperial Departments gave him a Pass, and he continued his Venetian
Journey (result of it zero) without farther molestation that I
heard of. [Adelung, iv. 222.]

"These French-Seckendorf cunctations, recriminations and drenched-
hen procedures are an endless sorrow to poor Kaiser Karl; who at
length can stand it no longer; but resolves, since at least
Bavaria, though moneyless and in ruins, is his, he will in person
go thither; confident that there will be victual and equipment
discoverable for self and Army were he there. Remonstrances avail
not: 'Ask me to die with honor, ask me not to lie rotting here;'
[Ib. iv. 241.]--and quits Frankfurt, and the Reich's-Diet and its
babble, 17th October, 1744 (small sorrow, were it for the last
time),--and enters his Munchen in the course of a week.
[17th October, 1744, leaves Frankfurt; arrives in Munchen 23d
(Adelung, iv. 241-244).] Munchen is transported with joy to see the
Legitimate Sovereign again; and blazes into illuminations,--
forgetful who caused its past wretchednesses, hoping only all
wretchedness is now ended. Let ruined huts, and Cham and the burnt
Towns, rebuild themselves; the wasted hedges make up their gaps
again: here is the King come home! Here, sure enough, is an
unfortunate Kaiser of the Holy Romish Reich, who can once more hope
to pay his milk-scores, being a loved Kurfurst of Bavaria at least.
Very dear to the hearts of these poor people;--and to their purses,
interests and skins, has not he in another sense been dear? What a
price the ambitions and cracked phantasms of that weak brain have
cost the seemingly innocent population! Population harried,
hungered down, dragged off to perish in Italian Wars; a Country
burnt, tribulated, torn to ruin, under the harrow of Fate and
ruffian Trenck and Company. Britannic George, rather a dear morsel
too, has come much cheaper hitherto. England is not yet burnt;
nothing burning there,--except the dull fire of deliriums;
Natural Stupidities all set flaming, which (whatever it may BE in
the way of loss) is not felt as a loss, but rather as a comfort for
the time being;--and in fact there are only, say, a forty or fifty
thousand armed Englishmen rotted down, and scarcely a Hundred
Millions of money yet spent. Nothing to speak of, in the cause of
Human Liberty. Why Populations suffer for their guilty Kings?
My friend, it is the Populations too that are guilty in having such
Kings. Reverence, sacred Respect for Human Worth, sacred Abhorrence
of Human Unworth, have you considered what it means? These poor
Populations have it not, or for long generations have had it less
and less. Hence, by degrees, this sort of 'Kings' to them, and
enormous consequences following!"--

Karl VII. got back to Munchen 23d October, 1744; and the tar-
barrels being once burnt, and indispensable sortings effected, he
went to the field along with Seckendorf, to encourage his men under
Seckendorf, and urge the French by all considerations to come on.
And really did what he could, poor man. But the cordage of his life
had been so strained and torn, he was not now good for much;
alas, it had been but little he was ever good for. A couple of dear
Kurfursts, his Father and he; have stood these Bavarian Countries
very high, since the Battle of Blenheim and downwards!

                           Chapter IV.


One may fancy what were Friedrich's reflections when he heard that
Prince Karl had, prosperously and unmolested, got across, by those
Passes from the Ober-Pfalz, into Bohmen and the Circle of Pilsen,
into junction with Bathyani and his magazines; ["At Mirotitz,
October 2d" (Ranke, iii. 194); Orlich, ii. 49.] heard, moreover,
that the Saxons, 20,000 strong, under Weissenfels, crossing the
Metal Mountains, coming on by Eger and Karlsbad regions, were about
uniting with him (bound by Treaty to assist the Hungarian Majesty
when invaded);--and had finally, what confirms everything, that the
said Prince Karl in person (making for Budweis, "just seen his
advanced guard," said rumor under mistake) was but few miles off.
Few miles off, on the other side of the Moldau;--of unknown
strength, hidden in the circumambient clouds of Pandours.

Suppressing all the rages and natural reflections but those needful
for the moment, Friedrich (October 4th, by Moldau-Tein) dashes
across the Moldau, to seek Prince Karl, at the place indicated, and
at once smite him down if possible;--that will be a remedy for all
things. Prince Karl is not there, nor was; the indication had been
false; Friedrich searches about, for four days, to no purpose.
Prince Karl, he then learns for certain, has crossed the Moldau
farther down, farther northward, between Prag and us. Means to cut
us off from Prag, then, which is our fountain of life in these
circumstances? That is his intention:--"Old Traun, who is with him,
understands his trade!" thinks Friedrich. Traun, or the Prince, is
diligently forming magazines, all the Country carrying to him, in
the Town of Beneschau, hither side of the Sazawa, some seventy
miles north of us, an important Town where roads meet:--unless we
can get hold of Beneschau, it will be ill with us here! Across the
River again, at any rate; and let us hasten thither. That is an
affair which must be looked to; and speed is necessary!

OCTOBER 8th, After four days' search ending in this manner,
Friedrich swiftly crosses towards Tabor again, to Bechin (over on
the Luschnitz, one march), there to collect himself for Beneschau
and the other intricacies. Towards Tabor again, by his Bridge of
Moldau-Tein;--clouds of Pandour people, larger clouds than usual,
hanging round; hidden by the woods till Friedrich is gone.
Friedrich being gone, there occurs the AFFAIR OF MOLDAU-TEIN, much
talked of in Prussian Books. Of which, in extreme condensation,
this is the essence:--

"OCTOBER 9th. Friedrich once off to Bechin, the Pandour clouds
gather on his rearguard next day at Tein Bridge here, to the number
of about 10,000 [rumor counts 14,000]; and with desperate intent,
and more regularity than usual, attack the Tein-Bridge Party, which
consists of perhaps 2,000 grenadiers and hussars, the whole under
Ziethen's charge,--obliged to wait for a cargo of Bread-wagons
here. 'Defend your Bridge, with cannon, with case-shot:' that is
what the grenadiers do. The Pandour cloud, with horrid lanes cut in
it, draws back out of this; then plunges at the River itself, which
can be ridden above or below; rides it, furious, by the thousand:
'Off with your infantry; quit the Bridge!' cries Ziethen to his
Captain there: 'Retire you, Parthian-like; thrice-steady,' orders
Ziethen: 'It is to be hoped our hussars can deal with this mad-
doggery!' And they do it; cutting in with iron discipline, with
fierceness not undrilled; a wedge of iron hussars, with ditto
grenadiers continually wheeling, like so many reapers steady among
wind-tossed grain; and gradually give the Pandours enough.
Seven hours of it, in all: 'of their sixty cartridges the
grenadiers had fired fifty-four,' when it ended, about 7 P.M.
The coming Bread-wagons, getting word, had to cast their loaves
into the River (sad to think of); and make for Bechin at their
swiftest. But the rearguard got off with its guns, in this
victorious manner: thanks to Major-General Ziethen, Colonel Reusch
and the others concerned. [<italic> Feldzuge der Preussen, i. 268;
Orlich, ii. 55.]

"Ziethen handsels his Major-Generalcy in this fine way:
[Patent given him "3d October, 1744," only a week ago, "and ordered
to be dated eight months back" (Rodenbeck, i. 109).] a man who has
had promotion, and also has had none, and may again come to have
none;--and is able to do either way. Never mind, my excellent tacit
friend! Ziethen is five-and-forty gone; has a face which is
beautiful to me, though one of the coarsest. Face thrice-honest,
intricately ploughed with thoughts which are well kept silent (the
thoughts, indeed, being themselves mostly inarticulate; thoughts of
a simple-hearted, much-enduring, hot-tempered son of iron and
oatmeal);--decidedly rather likable, with its lazily hanging
under-lip, and respectable bearskin cylinder atop."


... "These Pandours give us trouble enough; no Magazine here, no
living to be had in this Country beside them. Unfortunate Colonel
Jahnus went out from Tabor lately, to look after requisitioned
grains: infinite Pandours set upon him [Muhlhausen is the memorable
place]; Jahnus was obstinate (too obstinate, thinks Friedrich), and
perished on the ground, he and 200 of his. [<italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> iii. 61.] Nay, next, a swarm of them came to
Tabor itself, Nadasti at their head; to try whether Tabor, with its
small garrison, could not be escaladed, and perhaps Prince Henri,
who lies sick there, be taken? Tabor taught them another lesson;
sent them home with heads broken;--which Friedrich thinks was an
extremely suitable thing. But so it stands: Here by the thousand
and the ten thousand they hang round us; and Prince Karl-- It is of
all things necessary we get hold of that Beneschau, and the
Magazine he is gathering there!

"Rapidity is indispensable,--and yet how quit Tabor? We have
detachments out at Neuhaus, at Budweis, and in Tabor 300 men in
hospital, whom there are no means of carrying. To leave them to the
Tolpaches? Friedrich confesses he was weak on this occasion;
he could not leave these 300 men, as was his clear duty, in this
extremity of War. He ordered in his Neuhaus Detachment; not yet any
of the others. He despatched Schmerin towards Beneschau with all
his speed; Schwerin was lucky enough to take Beneschau and its
provender,--a most blessed fortune,--and fences himself there.
Hearing which, Friedrich, having now got the Neuhaus Detachment in
hand, orders the other Three, the Budweis, the Tabor here, and the
Frauenberg across the River, to maintain themselves; and then,
leaving those southern regions to their chance, hastens towards
Beneschau and Schwerin; encamps (October 18th) near Beneschau,--
'Camp of Konopischt,' unattackable Camp, celebrated in the Prussian
Books;--and there, for eight days, still on the south side of
Sazawa, tries every shift to mend the bad posture of affairs in
that Luschnitz-Sazawa Country. His Three Garrisons (3,000 men in
them, besides the 300 sick) he now sees will not be able to
maintain themselves; and he sends in succession 'eight messengers,'
not one messenger of whom could get through, to bid them come away.
His own hope now is for a Battle with Prince Karl; which might
remedy all things. [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic>
iii. 62-64.]"

That is Friedrich's wish; but it is by no means Traun's, who sees
that hunger and wet weather will of themselves suffice for
Friedrich. There ensues accordingly, for three weeks to come, in
that confused Country, a series of swift shufflings, checkings and
manoeuvrings between these two, which is gratifying and instructive
to the strategic mind, but cannot be inflicted upon common readers.
Two considerable chess-players, an old and a young; their chess-
board a bushy, rocky, marshy parallelogram, running fifty miles
straight east from Prag, and twenty or fewer south, of which Prag
is the northwest angle, and Beneschau, or the impregnable
Konopischt the southwest: the reader must conceive it; and how
Traun will not fight Friedrich, yet makes him skip hither and
thither, chiefly by threatening his victuals. Friedrich's main
magazine is now at Pardubitz, the extreme northeast angle of the
parallelogram. Parallelogram has one river in it, with the
innumerable rocks and brooks and quagmires, the river Sazawa;
and on the north side, where are Kuttenberg, Czaslau, Chotusitz,
places again become important in this business, it is bounded by
another river, the Elbe. Intricate manoeuvring there is here, for
three weeks following: "old Traun an admirable man!" thinks
Friedrich, who ever after recognized Traun as his Schoolmaster in
the art of War. We mark here and there a date, and leave it
to readers. 

"RADICZ, OCTOBER 21st-22d. At Radicz, a march to southwest of us,
and on our side of the Moldau, the Saxons, under Weissenfels,
20,000 effective, join Prince Karl; which raises his force to
69,514 men, some 10,000 more than Friedrich is master of. [Orlich,
ii. 66.] Prospect of wintering between the Luschnitz and the Sazawa
there is now little; unless they will fight us, and be beaten.
Friedrich, from his inaccessible Camp of Konopischt, manoeuvres,
reconnoitres, in all directions, to produce this result; but to no
purpose. An Austrian Detachment did come, to look after Beneschau
and the Magazines there; but rapidly drew back again, finding
Konopischt on their road, and how matters were. Friedrich will
guard the door of this Sazawa-Elbe tract of Country; hope of the
Sazawa-Luschnitz tract has, in few days, fallen extinct. Here is
news come to Konopischt: our Three poor Garrisons, Budweis, Tabor,
Frauenberg, already all lost; guns and men, after defence to the
last cartridge,--in Frauenberg their water was cut off, it was
eight-and-forty hours of thirst at Frauenberg:--one way or other,
they are all Three gone; eight couriers galloping with message,
'Come away,' were all picked up by the Pandours; so they stood, and
were lost. 'Three thousand fighting men gone, for the weak chance
of saving three hundred who were in hospital!' thinks Friedrich:
War is not a school of the weak pities. For the chance of ten, you
lose a hundred and the ten too. Sazawa-Elbe tract of country, let
us vigilantly keep the door of that!

"SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24th, Friedrich out reconnoitring from
Konopischt discovers of a certainty that the whole Austrian-Saxon
force is now advaucing towards Beneschau, and will, this night,
encamp at Marschowitz, to southwest, only one march from us! On the
instant Friedrich hurries back; gets his Army on march thitherward,
though the late October sun is now past noon; off instantly;
a stroke yonder will perhaps be the cure of all. Such roads we had,
says Friedrich, as never Army travelled before: long after
nightfall, we arrive near the Austrian camp, bivouac as we can till
daylight return. At the first streak of day, Friedrich and his
chief generals are on the heights with their spy-glasses:
Austrian Army sure enough; and there they have altered their
posture overnight (for Traun too has been awake); they lie now
opposite our RIGHT flank; 'on a scarped height, at the foot of
which, through swamps and quagmires, runs a muddy stream.'
Unattackable on this side: their right flank and foot are safe
enough. Creep round and see their left:--Nothing but copses, swampy
intricacies! We may shoulder arms again, and go back to Konopischt:
no fight here! [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 63,
64; Orlich, ii. 69.] Speaking of defensive Campaigns, says
Friedrich didactically, years afterwards, 'If such situations are
to answer the purpose intended, the front and flanks must be
equally strong, but the rear entirely open. Such, for instance, are
those heights which have an extensive front, and whose flanks are
covered by morasses:--as was Prince Karl's Camp at Marschowitz in
the year 1744, with its front covered by a stream, and the wings by
deep hollows; or that which we ourselves then occupied at
Konopischt,--as you well remember. [<italic> Military Instructions
<end italic> (above cited), p. 44.]

"OCTOBER 26th-NOVEMBER 1st. The Sazawa-Luschnitz tract of Country
is quite lost, then; lost with damages: the question now is, Can we
keep the Sazawa-Elbe tract? For about three weeks more, Friedrich
struggles for that object; cannot compass that either. Want of
horse-provender is very great:--country entirely eaten, say the
peasants, and not a truss remaining. October 26th, Friedrich has to
cross the Sazawa; we must quit the door of that tract (hunger
driving us), and fight for the interior in detail. Traun gets to
Beneschau in that cheap way; and now, in behalf of Traun, the
peasants find forage enough, being zealous for Queen and creed.
Pandours spread themselves all over this Sazawa-Elbe country;
endanger our subsistences, make our lives miserable. It is the old
story: Friedrich, famine and mud and misery of Pandours compelling,
has to retire northward, Elbe-ward, inch by inch; whither the
Austrians follow at a safe distance, and, in spite of all
manoeuvring, cannot be got to fight.

"Brave General Nassau, who much distinguishes himself in these
businesses, has (though Friedrich does not yet know it) dexterously
seized Kolin, westward in those Elbe parts,--ground that will be
notable in years coming. Important little feat of Nassau's; of
which anon. On the other hand, our Magazine at Pardubitz, eastward
on the Elbe, is not out of danger: Pandours and regulars 2,000 and
odd, 'sixty of the Pandour kind disguised as peasants leading hay-
carts,' made an attempt there lately; but were detected by the
vigilant Colonel, and blown to pieces, in the nick of time, some of
them actually within the gate. [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end
italic> iii. 65.] Nay, a body of Austrian regulars were in full
march for Kolin lately, intending to get hold of the Elbe itself at
that point (midway between Prag and Pardubitz): but the prompt
General Nassau, as we remarked, had struck in before them; and now
holds Kolin;--though, for several days, Friedrich could not tell
what had become of Nassau, owing to the swarms of Pandours.

"Friedrich, standing with his back to Prag, which is fifty miles
from him, and rather in need of his support than able to give him
any; and drawing his meal from the uncertain distance, with
Pandours hovering round,--is in difficult case. While old Traun is
kept luminous as mid-day; the circumambient atmosphere of Pandours
is tenebrific to Friedrich, keeps him in perpetual midnight. He has
to read his position as with flashes of lightning, for most part.
A heavy-laden, sorely exasperated man; and must keep his haggard
miseries strictly secret; which I believe he does. Were Valori
here, it is very possible he might find the countenance FAROUCHE
again; eyes gloomy, on damp November mornings! Schwerin, in a huff,
has gone home: Since your Majesty is pleased to prefer his young
Durchlaucht of Anhalt's advice, what can an elderly servant (not
without rheumatisms) do other?--'Well!' answers Friedrich, not with
eyes cheered by the phenomenon. The Elbe-Sazawa tract, even this
looks as if it would be hard to keep. A world very dark for
Friedrich, enveloped so by the ill chances and the Pandours.
But what help?

"From the French Camp far away, there comes, dated 17th October
(third week of their Siege of Freyburg), by way of help to
Friedrich, magnanimous promise: 'So soon as this Siege is done,
which will be speedily, though it is difficult, we propose to send
fifty battalions and a hundred squadrons,'"--say only 60,000 horse
and foot (not a hoof or toe of which ever got that length, on
actually trying it),--"towards Westphalia, to bring the Elector of
Koln to reason [poor Kaiser's lanky Brother, who cannot stand the
French procedures, and has lately sold himself, that is sold his
troops, to England], and keep the King of England and the Dutch in
check,"--by way of solacement to your Majesty. Will you indeed, you
magnanimous Allies?--This was picked up by the Pandours; and I know
not but Friedrich was spared the useless pain of reading it.
[Orlich, ii. 73.]

first day of November, here is a lightning-flash which reveals
strange things to Friedrich. Traun's late manoeuvrings, which have
been so enigmatic, to right and to left, upon Prag and other
points, issue now in an attempt towards Pardubitz; which reveals to
Friedrich the intention Traun has formed, of forcing him to choose
one of those two places, and let go the other. Formidable, fatal,
thinks Friedrich; and yet admirable on the part of Traun: 'a design
beautiful and worthy of admiration.' If we stay near Prag, what
becomes of our communication with Silesia; what becomes of Silesia
itself? If we go towards Pardubitz, Prag and Bohmen are lost!
What to do? 'Despatch reinforcement to Pardubitz; thanks to Nassau,
the Kolin-Pardubitz road is ours!' That is done, Pardubitz saved
for the moment. Could we now get to Kuttenberg before the old
Marshal, his design were overset altogether. Alas, we cannot march
at once, have to wait a day for the bread. Forward, nevertheless;
and again forward, and again; three heavy marches in November
weather: let us make a fourth forced march, start to-morrow before
dawn,--Kuttenberg above all things! In vain; to-morrow, 4th
November, there is such a fog, dark as London itself, from six in
the morning onwards, no starting till noon: and then impossible,
with all our efforts, to reach Kuttenberg. We have to halt an eight
miles short of it, in front of Kolin; and pitch tents there. On the
morrow, 5th November, Traun is found encamped, unattackable,
between us and our object; sits there, at his ease in a friendly
Country, with Pandour whirlpools flowing out and in; an irreducible
case to Friedrich. November 5th, and for three days more,
Friedrich, to no purpose, tries his utmost;--finds he will have to
give up the Elbe-Sazawa region, like the others. Monday, November
9th, Friedrich gathers himself at Kolin; crosses the Elbe by Kolin
Bridge, that day. Point after point of the game going against him."

Kolin was, of course, attacked, that Monday evening, so soon as the
main Army crossed: but, so soon as the Army left, General Nassau
had taken his measures; and, with his great guns and his small,
handled the Pandours in a way that pleased us. [<italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> iii. 68.] Thursday night following, they
came back, with regular grenadiers to support; under cloud of
night, in great force, ruffian Trenck at the head of them:
a frightful phenomenon to weak nerves. But this also Nassau treated
in such a fiery fashion that it vanished without return;
three hundred dead left on the ground, and ruffian Trenck riding
off with his own crown broken,--beautiful indigo face streaking
itself into GINGHAM-pattern, for the moment!

Except Pardubitz, where also the due battalions are left, Friedrich
now holds no post south of the Elbe in this quarter; Elbe-Sazawa
Tract is gone like the others, to all appearance. And we must now
say, Silesia or Prag? Prince Leopold, Council-of-War being held on
the matter, is for keeping hold of Prag: "Pity to lose all the
excellent siege-artillery we brought thither," says he. True, too
true; an ill-managed business that of Prag! thinks Friedrich sadly
to himself: but what is Prag and artillery, compared to Silesia?
Parthian retreat into Silesia; and let Prag and the artillery go:
that, to Friedrich, is clearly the sure course. Or perhaps the
fatal alternative will not actually arrive? So long as Pardubitz
and Kolin hold; and we have the Elbe for barrier? Truth is, Prince
Karl has himself written to Court that, having now pushed his Enemy
fairly over the Elbe, and winter being come with its sleets and
slushes, ruinous to troops that have been so marched about, the
Campaign ought to end;--nay, his own young Wife is in perilous
interesting circumstances, and the poor Prince wishes to be home.
To which, however, it is again understood, Maria Theresa has
emphatically answered, "No,--finish first!"

NOVEMBER 9th-19th: WE DEFEND THE ELBE RIVER. Friedrich has posted
himself on the north shore of the Elbe, from Pardubitz to the other
side of Kolin; means to defend that side of the River, where go the
Silesian roads. At Bohdenetz, short way across from Pardubitz, he
himself is; Prince Leopold is near Kolin: thirty miles of river-
bank to dispute. The controversy lasts ten days; ends in
ELBE-TEINITZ, a celebrated "passage," in Books and otherwise.
Friedrich is in shaggy, intricate country; no want of dingles,
woods and quagmires; now and then pleasant places too,--here is
Kladrup for example, where our Father came three hundred miles to
dine with the Kaiser once. The grooms and colts are all off at
present; Father and Kaiser are off; and much is changed since then.
Grim tussle of War now; sleety winter, and the Giant Mountains in
the distance getting on their white hoods! Friedrich doubtless has
his thoughts as he rides up and down, in sight of Kladrup, among
other places, settling many things; but what his thoughts were, he
is careful not to say except where necessary. Much is to be looked
after, in this River controversy of thirty miles. Detachments lie,
at intervals, all the way; and mounted sentries, a sentry every
five miles, patrol the River-bank; vigilant, we hope, as lynxes.
Nothing can cross but alarm will be given, and by degrees the whole
Prussian force be upon it. This is the Circle of Konigsgratz, this
that now lies to rear; and happily there are a few Hussites in it,
not utterly indisposed to do a little spying for us, and bring a
glimmering of intelligence, now and then.

It is now the second week that Frietrich has lain so, with his
mounted patrols in motion, with his Hussite spies; guarding Argus-
like this thirty miles of River; and the Austrians attempt nothing,
or nothing with effect. If the Austrians go home to their winter-
quarters, he hopes to issue from Kolin again before Spring, and to
sweep the Elbe-Sazawa Tract clear of them, after all. Maria Theresa
having answered No, it is likely the Austrians will try to get
across: Be vigilant therefore, ye mounted sentries. Or will they
perhaps make an attempt on Prag? Einsiedel, who has no garrison of
the least adequacy, apprises us That "in all the villages round
Prag people are busy making ladders,"--what can that mean?
Friedrich has learned, by intercepted letters, that something great
is to be done on Wednesday, 18th: he sends Rothenburg with
reinforcement to Einsiedel, lest a scalade of Prag should be on the
cards. Rothenburg is right welcome in the lines of Prag, though
with reinforcement still ineffectual; but it is not Prag that is
meant, nor is Wednesday the day. Through Wednesday, Friedrich, all
eye and ear, could observe nothing: much marching to and fro on the
Austrian side of the River; but apparently it comes to nothing?
The mounted patrols had better be vigilant, however.

On the morrow, 5 A.M., what is this that is going on? Audible
booming of cannon, of musketry and battle, echoing through the
woods, penetrates to Friedrich's quarters at Bohdenetz in the
Pardubitz region: Attack upon Kolin, Nassau defending himself
there? Out swift scouts, and see! Many scouts gallop out; but none
comes back. Friedrich, for hours, has to remain uncertain; can only
hope Nassau will defend himself. Boom go the distant volleyings;
no scout comes back. And it is not Nassau or Kolin; it is something
worse: very glorious for Prussian valor, but ruinous to
this Campaign.

The Austrians, at 2 o'clock this morning, Austrians and Saxons,
came in great force, in dead silence, to the south brink of the
River, opposite a place called Teinitz (Elbe-Teinitz), ten miles
east of Kolin; that was the fruit of their marching yesterday.
They sat there forbidden to speak, to smoke tobacco or do anything
but breathe, till all was ready; till pontoons, cannons had come
up, and some gleam of dawn had broken. At the first gleam of dawn,
as they are shoving down their pontoon boats, there comes a
"WER-DA, Who goes?" from our Prussian patrol across the River.
Receiving no answer, he fires; and is himself shot down.
One Wedell, Wedell and Ziethen, who keep watch in this part, start
instantly at sound of these shots; and make a dreadful day of it
for these invasive Saxon and Austrian multitudes. Naturally, too,
they send off scouts, galloping for more help, to the right and to
the left. But that avails not. Wild doggery of Pandours, it would
seem, have already swum or waded the River, above Teinitz and
below:--"Want of vigilance!" barks Friedrich impatiently: but such
a doggery is difficult to watch with effect. At any rate, to the
right and to the left, the woods are already beset with Pandours;
every scout sent out is killed: and to east or to west there comes
no news but an echoing of musketry, a boom of distant cannon.
[Orlich, ii. 82-85.] Saxon-Austrian battalions, four or five, with
unlimited artillery going, VERSUS Wedell's one battalion, with
musketry and Ziethen's hussars: it is fearful odds. The Prussians
stand to it like heroes; doggedly, for four hours, continue the
dispute,--till it is fairly desperate; "two bridges of the enemy's
now finished;"--whereupon they manoeuvre off, with Parthian or
Prussian countenance, into the woods, safe, towards Kolin;
"despatching definite news to Friedrich, which does arrive about
11 A.M., and sets him at once on new measures."

This is a great feat in the Prussian military annals; for which,
sad as the news was, Wedell got the name of Leonidas attached to
him by Friedrich himself. And indeed it is a gallant passage of
war; "Forcing of the Elbe at Teinitz;" of which I could give two
Narratives, one from the Prussian, and one from the Saxon side;
[Seyfarth, <italic> Beylage, <end italic> i. 595-598; <italic>
Helden-Geschichte, <end italic> ii. 1175-1181.] didactic,
admonitory to the military mind, nay to the civic reader that has
sympathy with heroisms, with work done manfully, and terror and
danger and difficulty well trampled under foot. Leonidas Wedell has
an admirable silence, too; and Ziethen's lazily hanging under-lip
is in its old attitude again, now that the spasm is over. "WAS
THUTS? They are across, without a doubt. We would have helped it,
and could not. Steady!"--


Seeing, then, that they are fairly over, Friedrich, with a
creditable veracity of mind, sees also that the game is done;
and that same night he begins manoeuvring towards Silesia, lest far
more be lost by continuing the play. One column, under Leopold the
Young Dessauer, goes through Glatz, takes the Magazine of Pardubitz
along with it: good to go in several columns, the enemy will less
know which to chase. Friedrich, with another column, will wait for
Nassau about Konigsgratz, then go by the more westerly road,
through Nachod and the Pass of Braunau. Nassau, who is to get
across from Kolin, and join us northwards, has due rendezvous
appointed him in the Konigsgratz region. Einsiedel, in Prag, is to
spike his guns, since he cannot carry them; blow up his bastions,
and the like; and get away with all discretion and all diligence,--
northwestward first, to Leitmeritz, where our magazines are;
there to leave his heavier goods, and make eastward towards
Friedland, and across the "Silesian Combs" by what Passes he can.
Will have a difficult operation; but must stand to it. And speed;
steady, simultaneous, regular, unresting velocity; that is the word
for all. And so it is done,--though with difficulty, on the part of
poor Einsiedel for one. It was Thursday, 19th November, when the
Austrians got across the Elbe: on Monday, 23d, the Prussian
rendezvousings are completed; and Friedrich's column, and the Glatz
one under Leopold, are both on march; infinite baggage-wagons
groaning orderly along ("sick-wagons well ahead," and the like
precautions and arrangements), on both these highways for Silesia:
and before the week ends, Thursday, 26th, even Einsiedel is under
way. Let us give something of poor Einsiedel, whose disasters made
considerable noise in the world, that Winter and afterwards.

"The two main columns were not much molested; that which went by
Glatz, under Leopold, was not pursued at all. On the rear of
Friedrich's own column, going towards Braunau, all the way to
Nachod or beyond, there hung the usual doggery of Pandours, which
required whipping off from time to time; bnt in the defiles and
difficult places due precaution was taken, and they did little real
damage. Truchsess von Waldburg [our old friend of the Spartan feat
near Austerlitz in the MORAVIAN-FORAY time, whom we have known in
London society as Prussian Envoy in bygone years] was in one of the
divisions of this column; and one day, at a village where there was
a little river to cross (river Mietau, Konigsgratz branch of the
Elbe), got provoked injudiciously into fighting with a body of
these people. Intent not on whipping them merely, but on whipping
them to death, Truchsess had already lost some forty men, and the
business with such crowds of them was getting hot; when, all at
once a loud squeaking of pigs was heard in the village,"--
apprehensive swineherd hastily penning his pigs belike, and some
pig refractory;--"at sound of which, the Pandour multitude suddenly
pauses, quits fighting, and, struck by a new enthusiasm, rushes
wholly into the village; leaving Truchsess, in a tragi-comic humor,
victorious, but half ashamed of himself. [<italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> iii. 73.] In the beginning of December,
Friedrich's column reached home, by Braunau through the Mountains,
the same way part of it had come in August; not quite so brilliant
in equipment now as then.

"It was upon Einsiedel's poor Garrison, leaving Prag in such haste,
that the real stress of the retreat fell; its difficulties great
indeed, and its losses great. Einsiedel did what was possible;
but all things are not possible on a week's warning. He spiked
great guns, shook endless hundredweights of powder, and 10,000
stand of arms, into the River; he requisitioned horses, oxen,
without number; put mines under the bastions, almost none of which
went off with effect. He kept Prag accurately shut, the Praguers
accurately in the dark; took his measures prudently; and labored
night and day. One measure I note of him: stringent Proclamation to
the inhabitants of Prag, 'Provision yourselves for three months;
nothing but starvation ahead otherwise.' Alas, we are to stand a
fourth siege, then? say the Praguers. But where are provisions to
be had? At such and such places; from the Royal Magazines only, if
you bring a certificate and ready money! Whereby Einsiedel got
delivered of his meal-magazine, for one thing. But his difficulties
otherwise were immense.

"On the Thursday morning, 26th November, 1744, he marched.
His wagons had begun the night before; and went all night, rumbling
continuous (Anonymous of Prag [Second "LETTER from a Citizen, &c."
(date, 27th November, see supra, p. 348), in <italic> Helden-
Geschichte, <end italic> ii. 1181-1188.] hearing them well),
through the Karlthor, northwest gate of Prag, across the Moldau
Rridge. All night across that bridge,--Leitmeritz road, great road
to the northwest:--followed finally by the march of horse and foot.
But news had already fled abroad. Five hundred Pandours were in the
City, backed by the Butchers' lads and other riotous GESINDEL,
before the rear-guard got away. Sad tugging and wriggling in
consequence, much firing from windows, and uproarious chaos;--so
that Rothenburg had at last to remount a couple of guns, and blow
it off with case-shot. A drilled Prussian rear-guard struggling,
with stern composure, through a real bit of burning chaos.
With effect, though not without difficulty. Here is the scene on
the Noldau Bridge, and past that high Hradschin [Old Palace of the
Bohemian Kings (pronounce RADsheen); one of the steepest Royal
Sites in the world.] mass of buildings; all Prag, not the Hradschin
only, struggling to give us fatal farewell if it durst. River is
covered with Pandours firing out of boats; Bridge encumbered to
impassability by forsaken wagons, the drivers of which had cut
traces and run; shot comes overhead from the Hradschin on our left,
much shot, infinite tumult all round; thoroughfare impossible for
two-wheeled vehicle, or men in rank. 'Halt!' cries Colonel Brandes,
who has charge of the thing; divides them in three: 'First one
party, deal with these river-boats, that Pandour doggery;
second party, pull these stray wagons to right and left, making the
way clear; third party, drag our own wagons forward, shoulder to
shaft, and yoke them out of shot-range;--you, Captain Carlowitz,'
and calls twenty volunteers to go with Carlowitz, and drag their
own cannon, 'step you forward, keep the gate of that Hradschin till
we all pass!' In this manner, rapid, hard of stroke, clear-headed
and with stern regularity, drilled talent gets the burning Nessus'-
shirt wriggled off; and tramps successfully forth with its
baggages. About 11 A.M., this rearguard of Brandes's did; should
have been at seven,--right well that it could be at all.

"Einsiedel, after this, got tolerably well to Leitmeritz; left his
heavy baggage there; then turned at an acute angle right eastward,
towards the Silesian Combs, as ordered: still a good seventy miles
to do, and the weather getting snowy and the days towards their
shortest. Worse still; old Weissenfels, now in Prag with his
Saxons, is aware that Einsiedel, before ending, will touch on a
wild high-lying corner of the Lausitz which is Saxon Country;
and thitherward Weissenfels has despatched Chevalier de Saxe (in
plenty of time, November 29th), with horse and foot, to waylay
Einsiedel, and block the entrance of the Silesian Mountains for
him. Whereupon, in the latter end of his long march, and almost
within sight of home, ensues the hardest brush of all for
Einsiedel. And, in the desolation of that rugged Hill country of
the Lausitz, 'HOCHWALD (Upper Weld),' twenty or more miles from 
Bohemian Friedland, from his entrance on the Mountain Barrier and
Silesian Combs, there are scenes--which gave rise to a Court-
Martial before long. For unexpectedly, on the winter afternoon
(December 9th), Einsiedel, struggling among the snows and pathless
Hills, comes upon Chevalier de Saxe and his Saxon Detachment,--
intrenched with trees, snow-redoubts, and a hollow bog dividing us;
plainly unassailable;--and stands there, without covering, without
'food, fire, or salt,' says one Eye-witness, 'for the space of
fourteen hours.' Gazing gloomily into it, exchanging a few shots,
uncertain what more to do; the much-dubitating Einsiedel. 'At which
the men were so disgusted and enraged, they deserted [the foreign
part of them, I fancy] in groups at a time,' says the above
Eye-witness. Not to think what became of the equipments, baggage-
wagons, sick-wagons:--too evident Einsiedel's loss, in all kinds,
was very considerable. Nassau, despatched by Leopold out of Glatz,
from the other side of the Combs, is marching to help Einsiedel;--
who knows, at this moment, where or whitherward? For the peasants
are all against us; our very guides desert, and become spies.
'Push to the left, over the Hochwald top, must not we?' thinks
Einsiedel: 'that is Lausitz, a Saxon Country; and Saxony, though
the Saxons stand intrenched here, with the knife at our throat, are
not at war with us, oh no, only allies of her Majesty of Hungary,
and neutral otherwise!' And here, it is too clear, the Chevalier de
Saxe stands intrenched behind his trees and snow; and it is the
fourteenth hour, men deserting by the hundred, without fire and
without salt; and Nassau is coming,--God knows by what road!

"Einsiedel pushes to the left, the Hochwald way; finds, in the
Hochwald too, a Saxon Commandant waiting him, with arms strictly
shouldered. 'And we cannot pass through this moor skirt of Lausitz,
say you, then?' 'Unarmed, yes; your muskets can come in wagons
after you,' replies the Saxon Commandant of Lausitz.
'Thousand thanks, Herr Commandant; but we will not give you all
that trouble,' answer Einsiedel and his Prussians; 'and march on,
overwhelming him with politenesses,' says Friedrich;--the approach
of Nassau, above all, being a stringent civility. Of course,
despatch is very requisite to Einsiedel; the Chevalier, with his
force, being still within hail. The Prussians march all night, with
pitch-links flaring,--nights (I think) of the 13th-15th December,
1744, up among the highlands there, rugged buttresses of the
Silesian Combs: a sight enough to astonish Rubezahl, if he happened
to be out! As good chance would have it, Nassau and Einsiedel, by
preconcert, partly by lucky guess of their own, were hurrying by
the same road: three heaven-rending cheers (December 16th) when we
get sight of Nassau; and find that here is land! December 16th, we
are across,--by Ruckersdorf, not far from Friedland (Bohmisch
Friedland, not the Silesian town of that name, once Wallenstein's);
--and rejoice now to look back on labor done." [<italic> Helden-
Geschichte, <end italic> ii. 1181-1190, 1191-1194; <italic>
Feldzuge, <end italic> i. 278-280.]

These were intricate strange scenes, much talked of at the time:
Rothenburg, ugly Walrave, Hacke, and other known figures, concerned
in them. Scenes in which Friedrich is not well informed; who much
blames Einsiedel, as he is apt to do the unsuccessful. Accounts
exist, both from the Prussian and from the Saxon side, decipherable
with industry; not now worth deciphering to English readers.
Only that final scene of the pitch-links, the night before meeting
with Nassau, dwells voluntarily in one's memory. And is the
farewell of Einsiedel withal. Friedrich blames him to the last:
though a Court-Martial had sat on his case, some months after, and
honorably acquitted him. Good solid, silent Einsiedel;--and in some
months more, he went to a still higher court, got still stricter
justice: I do not hear expressly that it was the winter marches, or
strain of mind; but he died in 1745; and that flare of pitch-links
in Rubezahl's country is the last scene of him to us,--and the end
of Friedrich's unfortunate First Expedition in the Second
Silesian War.

"Foiled, ultimately, then, on every point; a totally ill-ordered
game on our part! Evidently we, for our part, have been altogether
in the wrong, in various essential particulars. Amendment, that and
no other, is the word now. Let us take the scathe and the scorn
candidly home to us;--and try to prepare for doing better.
The world will crow over us. Well, the world knows little about it;
the world, if it did know, would be partly in the right!"--Wise is
he who, when beaten, learns the reasons of it, and alters these.
This wisdom, it must be owned, is Friedrich's; and much
distinguishes him among generals and men. Veracity of mind, as I
say, loyal eyesight superior to sophistries; noble incapacity of
self-delusion, the root of all good qualities in man. His epilogue
to this Campaign is remarkable;--too long for quoting here, except
the first word of it and the last:--

"No General committed more faults than did the King in this
Campaign. ... The conduct of M. de Traun is a model of perfection,
which every soldier that loves his business ought to study, and try
to imitate, if he have the talent. The king has himself admitted
that he regarded this Campaign as his school in the Art of War, and
M. de Traun as his teacher." But what shall we say? "Bad is often
better for Princes than good;--and instead of intoxicating them
with presumption, renders them circumspect and modest."
[<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> iii.76, 77.] Let us still hope!--

                           Chapter V.

                          NEW CAMPAIGN.

To the Court of Vienna, especially to the Hungarian Majesty, this
wonderful reconquest of Bohemia, without battle fought,--or any
cause assignable but Traun's excellent manoeuvring and Friedrich's
imprudences and trust in the French,--was a thing of heavenly
miracle; blessed omen that Providence had vouchsafed to her prayers
the recovery of Silesia itself. All the world was crowing over
Friedrich: but her Majesty of Hungary's views had risen to a
clearly higher pitch of exultation and triumphant hope, terrestrial
and celestial, than any other living person's. "Silesia back
again," that was now the hope and resolution of her Majesty's high
heart: "My wicked neighbor shall be driven out, and smart dear for
the ill he has done; Heaven so wills it!" "Very little uplifts the
Austrians," says Valori; which is true, under such a Queen;
"and yet there is nothing that can crush them altogether down,"
adds he.

No sooner is Bohemia cleared of Friedrich, than Maria, winter as it
is, orders that there be, through the Giant-Mountains, vigorous
assault upon Silesia. Highland snows and ices, what are these to
Pandour people, who, at their first entrance on the scene of
History, "crossed the Palus-Maeotis itself [Father of Quagmires, so
to speak] in a frozen state," and were sufficiently accommodated
each in his own dirty sheepskin? "Prosecute the King of Prussia,"
ordered she; "take your winter-quarters in Silesia!"--and Traun, in
spite of the advanced season, and prior labors and hardships, had
to try, from the southwestern Bohemian side, what he could do;
while a new Insurrection, coming through the Jablunka, spread
itself over the southeast and east. Seriously invasive multitudes;
which were an unpleasant surprise to Friedrich; and did, as we
shall see, require to be smitten back again, and re-smitten;
making a very troublesome winter to the Prussians and themselves;
but by no means getting winter-quarters, as they once hoped.

In a like sense, Maria Theresa had already (December 2d) sent forth
her Manifesto or Patent, solemnly apprising her ever-faithful
Silesian Populations, "That the Treaty of Breslau, not by her
fault, is broken; palpably a Treaty no longer. That they,
accordingly, are absolved from all oaths and allegiance to the King
of Prussia; and shall hold themselves in readiness to swear anew to
her Majesty, which will be a great comfort to such faithful
creatures; suffering, as her Majesty explains to them that they
have done, under Prussian tyranny for these two years past.
Immediate dead-lift effort there shall be; that is certain:
and 'the Almighty God assisting, who does not leave such injustices
unpunished, We have the fixed Christian hope, Omnipotence blessing
our arms, of almost immediately (EHESTENS) delivering you from this
temporary Bondage (BISHERIGEN JOCH).' You can pray, in the mean
while, for the success of her Majesty's arms; good fighting, aided
by prayer, in a Cause clearly Heaven's, will now, to appearance,
bring matters swiftly round again, to the astonishment and
confusion of bad men." [In <italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic>
ii. 1194-1198; Ib. 1201-1206, is Friedrich's Answer, "19th
December, 1744."]

These are her Majesty's views; intensely true, I doubt not, to her
devout heart. Robinson and the English seem not to be enthusiastic
in that direction; as indeed how can they? They would fain be
tender of Silesia, which they have guaranteed; fain, now and
afterwards, restrain her Majesty from driving at such a pace down
hill: but the declivity is so encouraging, her Majesty is not to be
restrained, and goes faster and faster for the time being.
And indeed, under less devout forms, the general impression, among
Pragmatic people, Saxon, Austrian, British even, was, That
Friedrich had pretty much ruined himself, and deserved to do so;
that this of his being mere "Auxiliary" to a Kaiser in distress was
an untenable pretext, now justly fallen bankrupt upon him.
The evident fact, That he had by his "Frankfurt Union," and
struggles about "union," reopened the door for French tribulations
and rough-ridings in the Reich, was universally distasteful;
all chance of a "general union of German Princes, in aid of their
Kaiser," was extinct for the present.

Friedrich's rapidity had served him ill with the Public, in this as
in some other instances! Friedrich, contemplating his situation,
not self-delusively, but with the candor of real remorse, was by no
means yet aware how very bad it was. For six months coming, partly
as existing facts better disclosed themselves, as France, Saxony
and others showed what spirit they were of; partly as new sinister
events and facts arrived one after the other,--his outlook
continued to darken and darken, till it had become very dark
indeed. There is perennially the great comfort, immense if you can
manage it, of making front against misfortune; of looking it
frankly in the face, and doing with a resolution, hour by hour,
your own utmost against it. Friedrich never lacked that comfort;
and was not heard complaining. But from December 13th, 1744, when
he hastened home to Berlin, under such aspects, till June 4th,
1745, when aspects suddenly changed, are probably the worst six
months Friedrich had yet had in the world. During which, his
affairs all threatening to break down about him, he himself,
behooving to stand firm if the worst was not to realize itself, had
to draw largely on what silent courage, or private inexpugnability
of mind, was in him,--a larger instalment of that royal quality (as
I compute) than the Fates had ever hitherto demanded of him.
Ever hitherto; though perhaps nothing like the largest of all,
which they had upon their Books for him, at a farther stage!
As will be seen. For he was greatly drawn upon in that way, in his
time. And he paid always; no man in his Century so well; few men,
in any Century, better. As perhaps readers may be led to guess or
acknowledge, on surveying and considering. To see, and
sympathetically recognize, cannot be expected of modern readers,
in the present great distance, and changed conditions of men
and things.

Friedrich, after despatching Nassau to cut out Einsiedel, had
delivered the Silesian Army to the Old Dessauer, who is to command
in chief during Winter; and had then hastened to Berlin,--many
things there urgently requiring his presence; preparations,
reparations, not to speak of diplomacies, and what was the heaviest
item of all, new finance for the coming exertions. In Schweidnitz,
on Leopold's appearance, there had been an interview, due
consultings, orderings; which done, Friedrich at once took the
road; and was at Berlin, Monday, December 14th,--precisely in the
time while Nassau and Einsiedel were marching with torchlights in
Rubezahl's Country, and near ending their difficult enterprise
better or worse.

Friedrich, fastening eagerly on Home business, is astonished and
provoked to learn that the Austrians, not content with pushing him
out of Bohmen, are themselves pushing into Schlesien,--so Old
Leopold reports, with increasing emphasis day by day; to whom
Friedrich sends impatient order: Hurl them out again; gather what
force you need, ten thousand, or were it twenty or thirty thousand,
and be immediate about it; "I will as soon be pitched
(HERAUSGESCHMISSEN) out of the Mark of Brandenburg as out of
Schlesien:" no delay, I tell you! And as the Old Dessauer still
explains that the ten or fifteen thousand he needs are actually
assembling, and cannot be got on march quite in a moment, Friedrich
dashes away his incipient Berlin Operations; will go himself and do
it. Haggle no more, you tedious Old Dessauer:--

BERLIN, "19th DECEMBER," 1744. "On the 21st [Monday, one week after
my arriving], I leave Berlin, and mean to be at Neisse on the 24th
at latest. Your Serenity will in the interim make out the Order-of-
Battle [which is also Order-of-March] for what regiments are come
in. For I will, on the 25th, without delay, cross the Neisse, and
attack those people, cost what it may,--to chase them out of
Schlesien and Glatz, and follow them so far as possible.
Your Serenity will therefore take your measures, and provide
everything, so far as in this short time you can, that the project
may be executable the moment I arrive." [Friedrich to the Old
Dessauer (<italic> Orlich, <end italic> ii. 356).]

And rushed off accordingly, in a somewhat flamy humor; but at
Schweidnitz, where the Old Dessauer met him again, became convinced
that the matter was weightier than he thought; not one of
Tolpatchery alone, but had Traun himself in it. Upon which
Friedrich candidly drew bridle; hastened back, and, with a loss of
four days, was at his Potsdam Affairs again. To which he stuck
henceforth, ardently, and I think rather with increase of gloom,
though without spurt of impatience farther, for three months to
come. Before his return,--nay, had he known, it was the night
before he went away,--a strange little thing had happened in the
opposite or Western parts: surprising accident to Marechal de
Belleisle; which now lies waiting his immediate consideration.
But let us finish Silesia first.


"This Silesian Affair includes due inroad of Pandours; or indeed
two inroads, southwest and southeast; and in the southwest, or
Traun quarter, regulars are the main element of it. Traun, 20,000
strong, PLUS stormy-enough Pandour ACCOMPANIMENT, is by this time
through into Glatz; in three columns;--is master of all Glatz,
except the Rock-Fortress itself; and has spread himself, right and
left, along the Neisse River, and from the southwest northwards, in
a skilful and dangerous manner. In concert with whom, far to the
east, are Pandour whirlwinds on their own footing (brand-new
'Insurrection' of them, got thus far) starting from Olmutz and
Brunn; scouring that eastern country, as far as Namslau northward
[a place we were at the taking of, in old Brieg times]; much more,
infesting the Mountains of the South. A rather serious thing;
with Traun for general manager of it."

With Traun, we say: poor Prince Karl is off, weeks ago; on the
saddest of errands. His beautiful young Wife,--Hungarian Majesty's
one Sister, Vice-Regents of the Netherlands he and she, conspicuous
among the bright couples of the world,--she had a bad lying-in
(child still-born), while those grand Moldau Operations went on;
has been ill, poor lady, ever since; and, at Brussels, on December
16th, she herself lies dead, Prince Karl weeping over her and the
days that will not return. Prince Karl's felicities, private and
public, had been at their zenith lately, which was very high
indeed; but go on declining from this day. Never more the Happiest
of Husbands (did not wed again at all); still less the Greatest of
Captains, equal or superior to Caesar in the Gazetteer judgment,
with distracted EULOGIES, BIOGRAPHIES and such like filling the
air: before long, a War-Captain of quite moderate renown; which we
shall see sink gradually into no renown at all, and even (unjustly)
into MINUS quantities, before all end. A mad world, my masters!

"Between Traun on the southwest hand, and his Pandours on the
southeast, the small Prussian posts have all been driven in upon
Troppau-Jagerndorf region; more and more narrowed there;--and, in
fine (two days before this new Interview of Leopold and the
impatient King at Schweidnitz), have had to quit the Troppau-
Jagerndorf position; to quit the Hills altogether, and are now in
full march towards Brieg. Of which march I should say nothing, were
it not that Marwitz, Father of Wilhelmina's giggling Marmitzes,
commanded;--and came by his death in the course of it; though our
Wilhelmina is not now there, pen in hand, to tell us what the
effects at Baireuth were. Marwitz had been left for dead on the
Field of Mollwitz; lay so all night, but was nursed to some kind of
strength again by those giggling young women; and came back to
Schlesien, to posts of chief trust, for the last year or two,--was
guarding the Mountains, and even invading Mahren, during the late
Campaign;--but saw himself reduced latterly to Jagerndorf and
Troppau; and had even to retreat out of these. And in the whirlpool
of hurries thereupon,--how is not very clear; by apoplexy, say
some; by accidental pistol from a servant of his own; in actual
skirmish with Pandours,--too certainly, one way or the other, on
December 23d (just during that second Interview at Schweidnitz),
brave old Marwitz did suddenly sink dead, and is ended.
[<italic> Helden-Geschichte, ii. 1201.] Even so, ye poor giggling
creatures, and your loud weeping will not mend it at all!

"Friedrich, looking candidly into these phenomena, could not but
see that: what with Tolpatcheries, what with Traun's 20,000
regulars, and the whole Army at their back, his Silesian Border is
girt in by a very considerable inroad of Austrians,-- huge Chain of
them, in horse-shoe form, 300 miles long, pressing in; from beyond
Glatz and Landshut, round by the southern Mountains, and up
eastward again as far as Namslau, nothing but war whirlwinds in
regular or irregular form, in the centre of them Traun;--and that
the Old Dessauer really must have time to gird himself for dealing
with Traun and them.

"It was not till January 9th that Old Leopold, 25,000 strong,
equipped to his mind, which was a difficult matter, crossed the
Neisse River; and marched direct upon Traun, with Ziethen charging
ahead. Actually marched; after which the main wrestle was done in a
week. January 16th, Old Leopold got to Jagerndorf; found the actual
Traun concentrated at Jagerndorf; and drew up, to be ready for
assault to-morrow morning,--had not Traun, candidly computing,
judged it better to glide wholly away in the night-time, diligently
towards Mahren, breaking the bridges behind him. And so, in effect,
to give up the Silesian Invasion for this time. After which, though
there remained a good deal of rough tussling with Pandour details,
and some rugged exploits of fight, there is--except that of Lehwald
in clearing of Glatz--nothing farther that we can afford to speak
of. Lehwald's exploit, Lehwald VERSUS Wallis (same Wallis who
defended Glogau long since), which came to be talked of, and got
name and date, 'Action of Habelschwert, February 14th,' something
almost like a pitched fight on the small scale, is to the
following effect:--

Lehwald, marching in the hollow ground near Habelschwert (hollow of
the young Neisse River, twenty miles south of Glatz), with intent
to cut that Country free; the Enemy, whom he is in search of,
appears in great force,--posted on the uphill ground ahead, half-
frozen difficult stream in front of them, cannon on flank, Pandour
multitude in woods; all things betokening inexpugnability on the
part of the Enemy. So that Lehwald has to take his measures; study
well where the vital point is, the root of that extensive Austrian
junglery, and cut in upon the same. By considerable fire of effort,
the uphill ground, half-frozen stream, sylvan Pandours, cannon-
batteries, and what inexpugnabilities there may be, are subdued;
Austrian wide junglery, the root of it slit asunder rolls homeward
simultaneously, not too fast: nay it halted, and re-ranked itself
twice over, finding woods and quaggy runlets to its mind; but was
always slit out again, disrooted, and finally tumbled home, having
had enough. 'Wenzel Wallis,' Friedrich asserts with due scorn, 'was
all this while in a Chapel; praying ardently,' to St. Vitus, or one
knows not whom; 'without effect; till they shouted to him, "Beaten,
Sir! Off, or you are lost!" upon which he sprang to saddle, and
spurred with both heels (PIQUA DES DEUX).' [<italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> iii. 79. 80.]  That was the feat of Lehwald,
clearing the Glatz Country with one good cut: a skilful Captain;
now getting decidedly oldish, close on sixty; whom we shall meet
again a dozen years hence, still in harness.

"The old Serene Highness himself, face the color of gun-powder, and
bluer in the winter frost, went rushing far and wide in an open
vehicle, which he called his 'cart;' pushing out detachments,
supervising everything; wheeling hither and thither as needful;
sweeping out the Pandour world, and keeping it out: not much of
fighting needed, but 'a great deal of marching [murmurs Friedrich],
which in winter is as bad, and wears down the force of the
battalions.' Of all which we give no detail: sufficient to fancy,
in this manner, the Old Dessauer flapping his wide military wings
in the faces of the Pandour hordes, with here and there a hard
twitch from beak or claws; tolerably keeping down the Pandour
interest all Winter. His sons, Leopold and Dietrich, were under
him, occasionally beside him; the Junior Leopold so worn down with
feverish gout he could hardly sit on horseback at all, while old
Papa went tearing about in his cart at that rate."
[<italic> Unternehmung in Ober-Schlesien, unter dem Fursten Leopold
von Anhalt-Dessau, im Januar und Februar, <end italic> 1745
(Seyfarth, <italic> Beylage, <end italic> i. 141-152); Stenzel, iv.
232; &c.]

There was, on the 21st of February, TE-DEUM sung in the churches of
Berlin "for the Deliverance of Silesia from Invasion." Not that
even yet the Pandours would be quite quiet, or allow Old Leopold to
quit his cart; far from it. And they returned in such increased and
tempestuous state, as will again require mention, with the earliest
Spring:--precursors to a second, far more serious and deadly
"Invasion of Silesia;" for which it hangs yet on the balance
whether there will be a TE-DEUM or a MISERERE to sing!

Hungarian Majesty, disappointed of Silesia,--which, it seems, is
not to be had "all at once (EHESTENS)," in the form of miracle,--
makes amends by a rush upon Seckendorf and Bavaria; attacks
Seckendorf furiously ("Bathyani pressing up the Donau Valley, with
Browne on one hand, and Barenklau on the other") in midwinter;
and makes a terrible hand of him; reducing his "Reconquest of
Bavaria" to nothing again, nay to less. Of which in due time.

       (November, 1744-April, 1745; April-August, 1745).

It is not divine miracle, Friedrich knows well, that has lost him
his late Bohemian Conquests without battle fought: it was rash
choosing of a plan inexecutable without French co-operation,--
culpable blindness to the chance that France would break its
promises, and not co-operate. Had your Majesty forgotten the Joint-
Stock Principle, then? His Majesty has sorrowful cause to remember
it, from this time, on a still larger scale!

Reflections, indignant or exculpatory, on the conduct of the French
in this Business are useless to Friedrich, and to us. The
performance, on their part, has been nearly the worst;--though
their intentions, while the Austrian Dragon had them by the throat,
were doubtless enthusiastically good! But, the big Austrian Dragon
being jerked away from Elsass, by Friedrich's treading on his tail,
500 miles off, they were charmed, quite into new enthusiasm, to be
rid of said Dragon: and, instead of chasing HIM according to
bargain, took to destroying his DEN, that he might be harmless
thenceforth. Freyburg is a captured Town, to the joy and glory of
admiring France; and Friedrich's Campaign has gone the road we see!
The Freyburg Illuminations having burnt out, there might rise, in
the triumphant mind, some thought of Friedrich again,--perhaps
almost of a remorseful nature? Certain it is, the French intentions
are now again magnanimous, more so than ever; coupled now with some
attempts at fulfilment, too; which obliges us to mention them here.
They were still a matter of important hope to Friedrich; hope which
did not quite go out till August coming. Though, alas, it did then
go out, in gusts of indignation on Friedrich's part! And as the
whole of these magnanimous French intentions, latter like former,
again came to zero, we are interested only in rendering them
conceivable to readers for Friedrich's sake,--with the more
brevity, the better for everybody. Two grand French Attempts there
were; listen, on the threshold, a little:--

... "It is certain the French intend gloriously; regardless of
expense. They are dismantling Freyburg, to render it harmless
henceforth. But, withal, in answer to the poor Kaiser's shrieks,
they have sent Segur [our old Linz friend], with 12,000, to assist
Seckendorf; 'the bravest troops in the world,'"--who did bravely
take one beating (at Pfaffenhofen, as will be seen), and go home
again. ("They have Coigny guarding those fine Brisgau Conquests.
And are furthermore diplomatizing diligently, not to say
truculently, in the Rhine Countries; bullying poor little fat
Kur-Trier, lean Kur-Koln and others, 'To join the Frankfurt Union'
(not one of whom would, under menace),--though 'it is the clear
duty of all Reich's-Princes with a Kaiser under oppression:'--and
have marched Maillebois, directly after Freyburg, into the Middle-
Rhine Countries, to Koln Country, to Mainz Country, and to and
fro, in support of said compulsory diplomacies;--but without the
least effect."

To the "Middle-Rhine Countries," observe, and under Maillebois,
then under Conti, little matter under whom: only let readers
recollect the name of it;--for it is the FIRST of the French
Attempts to do something of a joint-stock nature; something for
self AND Allies, instead of for self only. It caused great alarm in
those months, to Britannic George and others; and brought out poor
Duc d'Ahremberg with portions (no English included) of the poor
Pragmatic Army, to go marching about in the winter slushes, instead
of resting in bed, [Adelung, iv. 276, 420 ("December, 1744-June,
1745").]--and is indeed a very loud business in the old Gazettes
and books, till August coming. Business which almost broke poor
D'Ahremberg's heart, he says, "till once I got out of it" (was
TURNED out, in fact): Business of Pragmatic Army, under
D'Ahremberg, VERSUS Middle-Rhine Army under Maillebois, under
Conti; Business now wholly of Zero VERSUS Zero to us,--except for a
few dates and reflex glimmerings upon King Friedrich. Result
otherwise-- We shall see the Result!

"Attempt SECOND was still more important to Friedrich; being
directed upon the Kaiser and Bavaria. Belleisle is to go thither
and take survey; Belleisle thither first: you may judge if the
intention is sincere! Valori is quite eloquent upon it.
Directly after Freyburg, says he, Sechelles, that first of
Commissaries, was sent to Munchen. Sechelles cleared up the chaos
of Accounts; which King Louis then instantly paid. 'Your Imperial
Majesty shall have Magazines also,' said Louis, regardless of
expense; 'and your Army, with auxiliaries (Segur and 25,000 of them
French), shall be raised to 60,000.' Belleisle then came: 'We will
have Ingolstadt, the first thing, in Spring.' Alas, Belleisle had
his Accident in the Harz; and all went aback, from that time."
[Valori, i. 322-329.] Aback, too indisputably, all!--"And
Belleisle's Accident?" Patience, readers.

"The truth is, Attempt SECOND, and chief, broke down at once
[Bathyani beating it to pieces, as will be seen],--the ruins of it
painfully reacting on Attempt FIRST; which had the like fate some
months later;--and there was no THIRD made. And, in fact, from the
date of that latter down-break, August, or end of July, 1745 [and
quite especially from "September 13th," by which time several
irrevocable things had happened, which we shall hear of], the
French withdrew altogether out of German entanglements;
and concentrated themselves upon the Netherlands, there to demolish
his Britannic Majesty, as the likelier enterprise. This was a
course to which, ever since the Exit of Broglio and the Oriflamme,
they had been more and more tending and inclining, 'Nothing for us
but loss on loss, to be had in Germany!' and so they at last
frankly gave up that bad Country. They fought well in the
Netherlands, with great splendor of success, under Saxe VERSUS
Cumberland and Company. They did also some successful work in
Italy;--and left Friedrich to bear the brunt in Germany; too glad
if he or another were there to take Germany off their hand!
Friedrich's feelings on his arriving at this consummation, and
during his gradual advance towards it, which was pretty steady all
along from those first 'drenched-hen (POULES MOUILLEES)'
procedures, were amply known to Excellency Valori, and may be
conceived by readers,"--who are slightly interested in the dates of
them at farthest. And now for the Belleisle Accident, with these
faint preliminary lights.

                HARZ MOUNTAINS (20th December, 1744).

Siege of Freyburg being completed, and the River and most other
things (except always the bastions, which we blow up) being let
into their old channels there, Marechal de Belleisle, who is to
have a chief management henceforth,--the Most Christian King
recognizing him again as his ablest man in war or peace,--sets
forth on a long tour of supervision, of diplomacy and general
arrangement, to prepare matters for the next Campaign. Need enough
of a Belleisle: what a business we have made of it, since Friedrich
trod on the serpent's tail for us.! Nothing but our own Freyburg to
show for ourselves; elsewhere, mere down-rush of everything
whitherward it liked;--and King Friedrich got into such a humor!
Friedrich must be put in tune again; something real and good to be
agreed on at Berlin: let that be the last thing, crown of the
whole. The first thing is, look into Bavaria a little; and how the
Kaiser, poor gentleman, in want of all requisites but good-will,
can be put into something of fighting posture.

"In the end of November, Marechal Duc de Belleisle, with his
Brother the Chevalier (now properly the Count, there having been
promotions), and a great retinue more, alights at Munchen;
holds counsel with the poor Kaiser for certain days:--Money wanted;
many things wanted; and all things, we need not doubt, much fallen
out of square. 'Those Seckendorf troops in their winter-quarters,'
say our French Inspectors and Segur people, as usual, 'do but look
on it, your Excellency! Scattered, along the valleys, into the very
edge of Austria; Austria will swallow them, the first thing, next
year; they will never rendezvous again except in the Austrian
prisons. Surely, Monseigneur, only a man ignorant of war, or with
treasonous intention [or ill-off for victuals],--could post troops
in that way? Seckendorf is not ignorant of war!' say they.
[Valori, i. 206.] For, in fact, suspicion runs high; and there is
no end to the accusations just and unjust; and Seckendorf is as ill
treated as any of us could wish. Poor old soul. Probably nobody in
all the Earth, but his old Wife in the Schloss of Altenburg, has
any pity for him,--if even she, which I hope. He has fought and
diplomatized and intrigued in many countries, very much; and in his
old days is hard bested. Monseigueur, whose part is rather that of
Jove the Cloud-compeller, is studious to be himself noiseless amid
this noise; and makes no alteration in the Seckendorf troops;
but it is certain he meant to do it, thinks Valori."

And indeed Seckendorf, tired of the Bavarian bed-of-roses, had 
privately fixed with himself to quit the same;--and does so,
inexorable to the very Kaiser, on New-Year arriving.
[<italic> Seckendorfs Leben, <end italic> p. 365.] Succeeded by
Thorring (our old friend DRUM Thorring), if that be an improvement.
Marechal de Belleisle has still a long journey ahead, and
infinitely harder problems than these,--assuagement of the King of
Prussia, for example. Let us follow his remarkable steps.

"WEDNESDAY, 9th DECEMBER, 1744, the Marechal leaves Munchen,
northwards through OEttingen and the Bamberg-Anspach regions
towards Cassel;--journey of some three hundred and fifty miles:
with a great retinue of his own; with an escort of two hundred
horse from the Kaiser; these latter to prevent any outfall or
insult in the Ingolstadt quarter, where the Austrians have a
garrison, not at all very tightly blocked by the Seckendorf people
thereabouts. No insult or outfall occurring, the Marechal dismisses
his escort at OEttingen; fares forward in his twenty coaches and
fourgons, some score or so of vehicles:--mere neutral Imperial
Countries henceforth, where the Kaiser's Agent, as Marechal de
Belleisle can style himself, and Titular Prince of the German
Empire withal, has only to pay his way. By Donauworth, by
OEttingen; over the Donau acclivities, then down the pleasant
(or Abstract of it, <italic> Gentleman's Magazine, <end italic>
1745, pp. 366-373); &c. &c.]

"SUNDAY, 13th DECEMBER, Marechal de Belleisle arrives at Hanau
[where we have seen Conferences held before now, and Carteret,
Prince Karl and great George our King very busy], there to confer
with Marshals Coigny, Maillebois and other high men, Commanders in
those Rhine parts. Who all come accordingly, except Marechal
Maillebois, who is sorry that he absolutely cannot; but will surely
do himself the honor as Monseigneur returns." As Monseigneur
returns! "And so, on Monday, 14th, Monseigneur starts for Cassel;
say a hundred miles right north; where we shall meet Prince Wilhelm
of Hessen-Cassel, a zealous Ally; inform him how his Troops, under
Seckendorf, are posted [at Vilshofen yonder; hiding how perilous
their post is, or promising alterations]; perhaps rest a day or
two, consulting as to the common weal: How the King of Prussia
takes our treatment of him? How to smooth the King of Prussia, and
turn him to harmony again? We are approaching the true nodus of our
business, difficulty of difficulties; and Wilhelm, the wise
Landgraf, may afford a hint or two. Thus travels magnanimous
Belleisle in twenty vehicles, a man loaded with weighty matters, in
these deep Winter months; suffering dreadfully from rheumatic
neuralgic ailments, a Doctor one of his needfulest equipments;
and has the hardest problem yet ahead of him.

"Prince Wilhelm's consultations are happily lost altogether;
buried from sight forever, to the last hint,--all except as to what
road to Berlin would be the best from Cassel. By Leipzig, through
low-lying country, is the great Highway, advisable in winter;
but it runs a hundred and thirty miles to right, before ever
starting northward; such a roundabout. Not to say that the Saxons
are allies of Austria,--if there be anything in that.
Enemies, they, to the Most Christian King: though surely, again, we
are on Kaiser's business, nay we are titular 'Prince of the Reich,'
for that matter, such the Kaiser's grace to us? Well; it is better
perhaps to AVOID the Saxon Territory. And, of course, the
Hanoverian much more; through which lies the other Great Road!
'Go by the Harz,' advises Landgraf Wilhelm: 'a rugged Hill Country;
but it is your hypotenuse towards Berlin; passes at once, or nearly
so, from Cassel Territory into Prussian: a rugged road, but a
shorter and safer.' That is the road Belleisle resolves upon.
Twenty carriages; his Brother the Chevalier and himself occupy one;
and always the courier rides before, ordering forty post-horses to
be ready harnessed.

"SUNDAY, 20th DECEMBER, 1744. In this way they have climbed the
eastern shin of the Harz Range, where the Harz is capable of wheel-
carriages; and hope now to descend, this night, to Halberstadt;
and thence rapidly by level roads to Berlin. It is sinking towards
dark; the courier is forward to Elbingerode, ordering forty horses
to be out. Roughish uphill road; winter in the sky and earth,
winter vapors and tumbling wind-gusts: westward, in torn storm-
cloak, the Bracken, with its witch-dances; highland Goslar, and
ghost of Henry the Fowler, on the other side of it. A multifarious
wizard Country, much overhung by goblin reminiscences, witch-
dances, sorcerers'-sabbaths and the like,--if a rheumatic gentleman
cared to look on it, in the cold twilight. Brrh! Waste chasmy
uplands, snow-choked torrents; wild people, gloomy firs! Here at
last, by one's watch 5 P.M., is Elbingerode, uncomfortable little
Town; and it is to be hoped the forty post-horses are ready.

"Behold, while the forty post-horses are getting ready, a thing
takes place, most unexpected;--which made the name of Elbingerode
famous for eight months to come. Of which let us hastily give the
bare facts, Fancy making of them what she can. Was Monseigneur
aware that this Elbingerode, with a patch of territory round it, is
Hanoverian ground; one of those distracted patches or ragged
outskirts frequent in the German map? Prussia is not yet, and
Hessen-Cassel has ceased to be. Undoubtedly Hanoverian!
Apparently the Landgraf and Monseigneur had not thought of that.
But Munchhausen of Hanover, spies informing him, had. The Bailiff
(Vogt, AdVOCATus) has gathered twenty JAGER [official Game-keepers]
with their guns, and a select idle Sunday population of the place
with or without guns: the Vogt steps forward, and inquires for
Monseigneur's passport. 'No passport, no need of any!'--'Pardon!'
and signifies to Monseigneur, on the part of George Elector of
Hanover, King of Great Britain, France and Ireland, that
Monseigneur is arrested!

"Monseigneur, with compressed or incompressible feelings,
indignantly complies,--what could he else, unfortunate rheumatic
gentleman?--and is plucked away in such sudden manner, he for one,
out of that big German game of his raising. The twenty vehicles are
dragged different roads; towards Scharzfels, Osterode, or I know
not where,--handiest roads to Hanover;--and Monseigneur himself has
travelling treatment which might be complained of, did not one
disdain complaint: 'my Brother parted from me, nay my Doctor, and
my Interpreter;'"--not even speech possible to me. [Letter of
Belleisle next morning, "Neuhof, 21st December, 9 A.M." (in
<italic> Valori, <end italic> i. 204), to Munchhausen at
Hanover,--by no possibility "to Valori," as the distracted French
Editor has given it!] That was the Belleisle Accident in the Harz,
Sunday Evening, 20th December, 1744.

"Afflicted indignant Valori, soon enough apprised, runs to
Friedrich with the news,--greets Friedrich with it just alighting
from that Silesian run of his own. Friedrich, not without several
other things to think of, is naturally sorry at such news;
sorry for his own sake even; but not overmuch. Friedrich refuses
'to despatch a party of horse,' and cut out Marechal de Belleisle.
"That will never do, MON CHER!'--and even gets into FROIDES
PLAISANTERIES: 'Perhaps the Marechal did it himself?
Tallard, prisoner after Blenheim, made PEACE, you know, in
England?'--and the like; which grieved the soul of Valori, and
convinced him of Friedrich's inhumanity, in a crying case.

"Belleisle is lugged on to Hanover; his case not doubtful to
Munchhausen, or the English Ministry,--though it raised great
argument, (was the capture fair, was it unfair? Is he entitled to
exchange by cartel, or not entitled?' and produced, in the next
eight months, much angry animated pamphleteering and negotiation.
For we hear by and by, he is to be forwarded to Stade, on the
Hamburg sea-coast, where English Seventy-fours are waiting for him;
his case still undecided;--and, in effect, it was not till after
eight months that he got dismissal. 'Lodged handsomely in Windsor
Palace,' in the interim; free on his parole, people of rank very
civil to him, though the Gazetteers were sometimes ill-tongued,--
had he understood their PATOIS, or concerned himself about such
things. ["TUESDAY, 18th FEBRUARY [lst March, 1745], Marshal
Belleisle landed at Harwich; lay at Greenwich Palace, having
crossed Thames at the Isle of Dogs: next morning, about 10, set
out, in a coach-and-six, Colonel Douglas and two troops of horse
escorting; arrived 3 P.M.,--by Camberwell, Clapham, Wandsworth,
over Kingston and Staines Bridges,--at Windsor Castle, and the
apartments ready for him." (<italic> Gentleman's Magazine, <end
italic> 1745, p 107.) Was let go 13th (24th) August, again with
great pomp and civilities (ib. p. 442). See Adelung, iv. 299, 346;
v. 83, 84.]

"It was a current notion among contemporary mankind, this of
Friedrich, that Belleisle's capture might be a mere collusion,
meant to bring about a Peace in that Tallard fashion,--wide of the
truth as such a notion is, far as any Peace was from following.
To Britannic George and his Hanoverians it had merely seemed, Here
was a chief War-Captain and Diplomatist among the French; the pivot
of all these world-wide movements, as Valori defines him;
which pivot, a chance offering, it were well to twitch from its
socket, and see what would follow. Perhaps nothing will follow;
next to nothing? A world, all waltzing in mad war, is not to be
stopped by acting on any pivot; your waltzing world will find new
pivots, or do without any, and perhaps only waltz the more madly
for wanting the principal one."

This withdrawal of Belleisle, the one Frenchman respected by
Friedrich, or much interested for his own sake in things German, is
reckoned a main cause why the French Alliance turned out so ill for
Friedrich; and why French effort took more and more a Netherlands
direction thenceforth, and these new French magnanimities on
Friedrich's behalf issued in futility again. Probably they never
could have issued in very much: but it is certain that, from this
point, they also do become zero; and that Friedrich, from his
French alliance, reaped from first to last nothing at all, except a
great deal of obloquy from German neighbors, and from the French
side endless trouble, anger and disappointment in every particular.
Which 'might be a joy (though not unmixed) to Britannic Majesty and
the subtle followers who had ginned this fine Belleisle bird in its
flight over the Harz Range? Though again, had they passively let
him wing his way, and he had GOT "to be Commander and Manager," as
was in agitation,--he, Belleisle and in Germany, instead of
Marechal de Saxe with the Netherlands as chief scene,--what an
advantage might that have been to them!


A still sadder cross for Friedrich, in the current of foreign
Accidents and Diplomacies, was the next that befell; exactly a
month later,--at Munchen, 20th January, 1745. Hardly was
Belleisle's back turned, when her Hungarian Majesty, by her
Bathyani and Company, broke furiously in upon the poor Kaiser and
his Seckendorf-Segur defences. Belleisle had not reached the Harz,
when all was going topsy-turvy there again, and the Donau-Valley
fast falling back into Austrian hands. Nor is that the worst, or
nearly so.

"MUNCHEN, 20th JANUARY, 1745. This day poor Kaiser Karl laid down
his earthly burden here, and at length gave all his enemies the
slip. He had been ill of gout for some time; a man of much malady
always, with no want of vexations and apprehensions. Too likely the
Austrians will drive him out of Munchen again; then nothing but
furnished lodgings, and the French to depend upon. He had been much
chagrined by some Election, just done, in the Chapter of Salzburg.
[Adelung, iv. 249, 276, 313.] The Archbishop there--it was Firmian,
he of the SALZBURG EMIGRATION, memorable to readers--had died, some
while ago. And now, in flat contradiction to Imperial customs,
prerogatives, these people had admitted an Austrian Garrison;
and then, in the teeth of our express precept, had elected an
Austrian to their benefice: what can one account it but an insult
as well as an injury? And the neuralgic maladies press sore, and
the gouty twinges; and Belleisle is seized, perhaps with important
papers of ours; and the Seckendorf-Segur detachments were ill
placed; nay here are the Austrians already on the throat of them,
in midwinter! It is said, a babbling valet, or lord-in-waiting,
happened to talk of some skirmish that had fallen out (called a
battle, in the valet rumor), and how ill the French and Bavarians
had fared in it, owing to their ill behavior. And this, add they,
proved to be the ounce-weight too much for the so heavy-laden back.

"The Kaiser took to bed, not much complaining; patient, mild,
though the saddest of all mortals; and, in a day or two, died.
Adieu, adieu, ye loved faithful ones; pity me, and pray for me!
He gave his Wife, poor little fat devout creature, and his poor
Children (eldest lad, his Heir, only seventeen), a tender blessing;
solemnly exhorted them, To eschew ambition, and be warned by his
example;--to make their peace with Austria; and never, like him,
try COM' E DURO CALLE, and what the charity of Christian Kings
amounts to. This counsel, it is thought, the Empress Dowager
zealously accedes to, and will impress upon her Son. That is the
Austrian and Cause-of-Liberty account: King Friedrich, from the
other side, has heard a directly opposite one. How the Kaiser, at
the point of death, exhorted his son, 'Never forget the services
which the King of France and the King of Prussia have done us, and
do not repay them with ingratitude.' [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic,
<end italic> iii. 92;--and see (PER CONTRA) in Adelung, iv. 314 A;
in Coxe, &c.] The reader can choose which he will, or reject both
into the region of the uncertain. 'Karl Albert's pious and
affectionate demeanor drew tears from all eyes,' say the by-
standers: 'the manner in which he took leave of his Empress
would have melted a heart of stone.' He was in his forty-eighth
year; he had been, of all men in his generation, the most
conspicuously unhappy."

What a down-rush of confusion there ensued on this event, not to
Bavaria alone, but to all the world, and to King Friedrich more
than another, no reader can now take the pains of conceiving.
The "Frankfurt Union," then, has gone to air! Here is now no
"Kaiser to be delivered from oppression:" here is a new Kaiser to
be elected,--"Grand-Duke Franz the man," cry the Pragmatic
Potentates with exultation, "no Belleisle to disturb!"--and
questions arise innumerable thereupon, Will France go into
electioneering again? The new Kur-Baiern, only seventeen, poor
child, cannot be set up as candidate. What will France do with HIM;
what he with France? Whom can the French try as Candidate against
the Grand-Duke? Kur-Sachsen, the Polish Majesty again? Belleisle
himself must have paused uncertain over such a welter,--and
probably have done, like the others, little or nothing in it, but
left it to collapse by natural gravitation.

Hungarian Majesty checked her Bavarian Armaments a little:
"If perhaps this young Kur-Baiern will detach himself from France,
and on submissive terms come over to us?" Whereupon, at Munchen,
and in the cognate quarters, such wriggling, dubitating and
diplomatizing, as seldom was,--French, Anti-French (Seckendorf
busiest of all), straining every nerve in that way, and for almost
three months, nothing coming of it,--till Hungarian Majesty sent
her Barenklaus and Bathyanis upon them again; and these rapidly
solved the question, in what way we shall see!

Friedrich has still his hopes of Bavaria, so grandiloquent are the
French in regard to it; who but would hope? The French diplomatize
to all lengths in Munchen, promising seas and mountains; but they
perform little; in an effectual manner, nothing. Bavarian "Army
raised to 60,000;" counts in fact little above half that number;
with no General to it but an imaginary one; Segur's actual French
contingent, instead of 25,000, is perhaps 12,000;--and so of other
things. Add to all which, Seckendorf is there, not now as War-
General, but as extra-official "Adviser;" busier than ever,--
"scandalous old traitor!" say the French;--and Friedrich may justly
fear that Bavaria will go, by collapse, a bad road for him.

Friedrich, a week or two after the Kaiser's death, seeing Bavarian
and French things in such a hypothetic state, instructs his
Ambassador at London to declare his, Friedrich's, perfect readiness
and wish for Peace: "Old Treaty of Breslau and Berlin made
indubitable to me; the rest of the quarrel has, by decease of the
Kaiser, gone to air." To which the Britannic Majesty, rather elated
at this time, as all Pragmatic people are, answers somewhat in a
careless way, "Well, if the others like it!" and promises that he
will propose it in the proper quarter. So that henceforth there is
always a hope of Peace through England; as well as contrariwise,
especially till Bavaria settle itself (in April next), a hope of
great assistance from the French. Here are potentialities and
counter-potentialities, which make the Bavarian Intricacy very
agitating to the young King, while it lasts. And indeed his world
is one huge imbroglio of Potentialities and Diplomatic Intricacies,
agitating to behold. Concerning which we have again to remark how
these huge Spectres of Diplomacy, now filling Friedrich's world,
came mostly in result to Nothing;--shaping themselves wholly, for
or against, in exact proportion, direct or inverse, to the actual
Quantity of Battle and effective Performance that happened to be
found in Friedrich himself. Diplomatic Spectralities, wide
Fatamorganas of hope, and hideous big Bugbears blotting out the
sun: of these, few men ever had more than Friedrich at this time.
And he is careful, none carefuler, not to neglect his Diplomacies
at any time;--though he knows, better than most, that good fighting
of his own is what alone can determine the value of these
contingent and aerial quantities,--mere Lapland witchcraft the
greater part of them.

A second grand Intricacy and difficulty, still more enigmatic, and
pressing the tighter by its close neighborhood, was that with the
Saxons. "Are the Saxons enemies; are they friends? Neutrals at
lowest; bound by Treaty to lend Austria troops; but to lend for
defence merely, not for offence! Could not one, by good methods,
make friends with his Polish Majesty?" Friedrich was far from
suspecting the rages that lurked in the Polish Majesty, and least
of all owing to what. Owing to that old MORAVIAN-FORAY business;
and to his, Friedrich's, behavior to the Saxons in it; excellent
Saxons, who had behaved so beautifully to Friedrich! That is the
sad fact, however. Stupid Polish Majesty has his natural envies,
jealousies, of a Brandenburg waxing over his head at this rate.
But it appears, the Moravian Foray entered for a great deal into
the account, and was the final overwhelming item. Bruhl, by much
descanting on that famous Expedition,--with such candid Eye-
witnesses to appeal to, such corroborative Staff-officers and
appliances, powerful on the idle heart and weak brain of a Polish
Majesty,--has brought it so far. Fixed indignation, for intolerable
usage, especially in that Moravian-Foray time: fixed; not very
malignant, but altogether obstinate (as, I am told, that of the
pacific sheep species usually is); which carried Bruhl and his
Polish Majesty to extraordinary heights and depths in years coming!
But that will deserve a section to itself by and by.

A third difficulty, privately more stringent than any, is that of
Finance. The expenses of the late Bohemian Expedition, "Friedrich's
Army costing 75,000 pounds a month," have been excessive. For our
next Campaign, if it is to be done in the way essential, there are,
by rigorous arithmetic, "900,000 pounds" needed. A frugal Prussia
raises no new taxes; pays its Wars from "the Treasure," from the
Fund saved beforehand for emergencies of that kind; Fund which is
running low, threatening to be at the lees if such drain on it
continue. To fight with effect being the one sure hope, and salve
for all sores, it is not in the Army, in the Fortresses, the
Fighting Equipments, that there shall be any flaw left!
Friedrich's budget is a sore problem upon him; needing endless
shift and ingenuity, now and onwards, through this war:--already,
during these months, in the Berlin Schloss, a great deal of those
massive Friedrich-Wilhelm plate Sumptuosities, especially that
unparalleled Music-Balcony up stairs, all silver, has been, under
Fredersdorf's management, quietly taken away; "carried over, in the
night-time, to the Mint." [Orlich, ii. 126-128.]

And, in fact, no modern reader, not deeper in that distressing
story of the Austrian-Succession War than readers are again like to
be, can imagine to himself the difficulties of Friedrich at this
time, as they already lay disclosed, and kept gradually disclosing
themselves, for months coming; nor will ever know what
perspicacity, patience of scanning, sharpness of discernment,
dexterity of management, were required at Friedrich's hands;--and
under what imminency of peril, too; victorious deliverance, or ruin
and annihilation, wavering fearfully in the balance for him, more
than once, or rather all along. But it is certain the deeper one
goes into that hideous Medea's Caldron of stupidities, once so
flamy, now fallen extinct, the more is one sensible of Friedrich's
difficulties; and of the talent for all kinds of Captaincy,--by no
means in the Field only, or perhaps even chiefly,--that was now
required of him. Candid readers shall accept these hints, and do
their best:--Friedrich himself made not the least complaint of
men's then misunderstanding him; still less will he now!
We, keeping henceforth the Diplomacies, the vaporous Foreshadows,
and general Dance of Unclean Spirits with their intrigues and
spectralities, well underground, so far as possible, will stick to
what comes up as practical Performance on Friedrich's part, and try
to give intelligible account of that.

Valori says, he is greatly changed, and for the better, by these
late reverses of fortune. All the world notices it, says Valori.
No longer that brief infallibility of manner; that lofty light air,
that politely disdainful view of Valori and mankind: he has now
need of men. Complains of nothing, is cheerful, quizzical;--
ardently busy to "grind out the notches," as our proverb is; has a
mild humane aspect, something of modesty, almost of piety in him.
Help me, thou Supreme Power, Maker of men, if my purposes are
manlike! Though one does not go upon the Prayers of Forty-Hours, or
apply through St. Vitus and such channels, there may be something
of authentic petition to Heaven in the thoughts of that young man.
He is grown very amiable; the handsomest young bit of Royalty now
going. He must fight well next Summer, or it will go hard with him!

                           Chapter VI.

Some time in January, a new Frenchman, a "Chevalier de Courten," if
the name is known to anybody, was here at Berlin; consulting,
settling about mutual interests and operations. Since Belleisle is
snatched from us, it is necessary some Courten should come;
and produce what he has got: little of settlement, I should fear,
of definite program that will hold water; in regard to War
operations chiefly a magazine of clouds. [Specimens of it, in
Ranke, iii. 219.] For the rest, the Bavarian question; and very
specially, Who the new Emperor is to be? "King of Poland, thinks
your Majesty?"--"By all means," answers Friedrich, "if you can!
Detach him from Austria; that will be well!" Which was reckoned
magnanimous, at least public-spirited, in Friedrich; considering
what Saxony's behavior to him had already been. "By all means, his
Polish Majesty for Kaiser; do our utmost, Excellencies Valori,
Courten and Company!" answers Friedrich,--and for his own part,
I observe, is intensely busy upon Army matters, looking after the
main chance.

And so Valori is to go to Dresden, and manage this cloud or
cobwebbery department of the thing; namely, persuade his Polish
Majesty to stand for the Kaisership: "Baiern, Pfalz, Koln,
Brandenburg, there are four votes, Sire; your own is five: sure of
carrying it, your Polish Majesty; backed by the Most Christian
King, and his Allies and resources!" And Polish Majesty does, for
his own share, very much desire to be Kaiser. But none of us yet
knows how he is tied up by Austria, Anti-Friedrich, Anti-French
considerations; and can only "accept if it is offered me:" thrice-
willing to accept, if it will fall into my mouth; which, on those
terms, it has so little chance of doing!--Saxony and its mysterious
affairs and intentions having been, to Friedrich, a riddle and
trouble and astonishment, during all this Campaign, readers ought
to know the fact well;--and no reader could stand the details of
such a fact. Here, in condensed form, are some scraps of Excerpt;
which enable us to go with Valori on this Dresden Mission, and look
for ourselves:--


"... By known Treaty, the Polish Majesty is bound to assist the
Hungarian with 12,000 men, 'whenever invaded in her own dominions.'
Polish Majesty had 20,000 in the field for that object lately,--
part of them, 8,000 of them, hired by Britannic subsidy, as he
alleges. The question now is, Will Saxony assist Austria in
invading Silesia, with or without Britannic subsidy?
Friedrich hopes that this is impossible! Friedrich is deeply
unaware of the humor he has raised against himself in the Saxon
Court-circles; how the Polish Majesty regards that Moravian Foray;
with what a perfect hatred little Bruhl regards him, Friedrich;
and to what pitch of humor, owing to those Moravian-Foray
starvings, marchings about and inhuman treatment of the poor Saxon
Army, not to mention other offences and afflictive considerations,
Bruhl has raised the simple Polish Majesty against Friedrich.
These things, as they gradually unfolded themselves to Friedrich,
were very surprising. And proved very disadvantageous at the
present juncture and for a long time afterwards. To Friedrich
disadvantageous and surprising; and to Saxony, in the end, ruinous;
poor Saxony having got its back broken by them, and never stood up
in the world since! Ruined by this wretched little Bruhl;
and reduced, from the first place in Northern Teutschland, to a
second or third, or no real place at all."

       2. THERE IS A, "UNION OF WARSAW" (8th January, 1745);
                    (8th January-18th May, 1745). 

"January 8th, 1745, before the Old Dessauer got ranked in Schlesien
against Traun, there had concluded itself at Warsaw, by way of
counterpoise to the 'Frankfurt Union,' a 'Union of Warsaw,' called
also 'Quadruple Alliance of Warsaw;' the Parties to which were
Polish Majesty, Hungarian ditto, Prime-Movers, and the two
Sea-Powers as Purseholders; stipulating, to the effect: 'We Four
will hold together in affairs of the Reich VERSUS that dangerous
Frankfurt Union; we will'--do a variety of salutary things; and as
one practical thing, 'There shall be, this Season, 30,000 Saxons
conjoined to the Austrian Force, for which we Sea-Powers will
furnish subsidy.'--This was the one practical point stipulated,
January 8th; and farther than this the Sea-Powers did not go, now
or afterwards, in that affair.

"But there was then proposed by the Polish and Hungarian Majesties,
in the form of Secret Articles, an ulterior Project; with which the
Sea-Powers, expressing mere disbelief and even abhorrence of it,
refused to have any concern now or henceforth. Polish Majesty, in
hopes it would have been better taken, had given his 30,000
soldiers at a rate of subsidy miraculously low, only 150,000 pounds
for the whole: but the Sea-Powers were inexorable, perhaps almost
repented of their 150,000 pounds; and would hear nothing farther of
secret Articles and delirious Projects.

"So that the 'Union of Warsaw' had to retire to its pigeon-hole,
content with producing those 30,000 Saxons for the immediate
occasion; and there had to be concocted between the Polish and
Hungarian Majesties themselves what is now, in the modern
Pamphlets, called a 'TREATY of Warsaw,'--much different from the
innocent, 'UNION of Warsaw;' though it is merely the specifying and
fixing down of what had been shadowed out as secret codicils in
said 'Union,' when the Sea-Power parties obstinately recoiled.
Treaty of Warsaw let us continue to call it; though its actual
birth-place was Leipzig (in the profoundest secrecy, 18th May,
1745), above four months after it had tried to be born at Warsaw,
and failed as aforesaid. Warsaw Union is not worth speaking of;
but this other is a Treaty highly remarkable to the reader,--and to
Friedrich was almost infinitely so, when he came to get wind of it
long after.

"Treaty which, though it proved abortional, and never came to
fulfilment in any part of it, is at this day one of the
remarkablest bits of sheepskin extant in the world. It was signed
18th May, 1745;  [Scholl, ii. 350.] and had cost a great deal of
painful contriving, capable still of new altering and retouching,
to hit mutual views: Treaty not only for reconquering Silesia
(which to the Two Majesties, though it did not to the Sea-Powers,
seems infallible, in Friedrich's now ruined circumstances), but for
cutting down that bad Neighbor to something like the dimensions
proper for a Brandenburg Vassal;--in fact, quite the old
'Detestable Project' of Spring, 1741, only more elaborated into
detail (in which Britannic George knows better than to meddle!)--
Saxony to have share of the parings, when we get them.
'What share?' asked Saxony, and long keeps asking. 'A road to
Warsaw; Strip of Country carrying us from the end of the Lausitz,
which is ours, into Poland, which we trust will continue ours,
would be very handy! Duchy of Glogau; some small paring of Silesia,
won't your Majesty?' 'Of my Silesia not one hand-breadth,' answered
the Queen impatiently (though she did at last concede some outlying
hand-breadths, famed old 'Circle of Schwiebus,' if I recollect);
and they have had to think of other equivalent parings for Saxony's
behoof (Magdeburg, Halberstadt, Saale-Circle, or one knows not
what); and have had, and will have, their adoes to get it fixed.
Excellent bearskin to be slit into straps; only the bear is still
on his feet!--Polish Majesty and Hungarian, Polish with especial
vigor, Bruhl quite restless upon it, are--little as Valori or any
mortal could dream of it--engaged in this partition of the
bearskin, when Valori arrives. Of their innocent Union of Warsaw,
there was, from the first, no secret made; but the Document now
called 'TREATY of Warsaw' needs to lie secret and thrice-secret;
and it was not till 1756 that Friedrich, having unearthed it by
industries of his own, and studied it with great intensity for some
years, made it known to the world." [Adelung, v. 308. 397;
Ranke, iii. 231 (who, for some reason of his own, dates "3d May"
instead of 18th}.]

Treaties, vaporous Foreshadows of Events, have oftenest something
of the ghost in them; and are importune to human nature, longing
for the Events themselves; all the more if they have proved
abortional Treaties, and become doubly ghost-like or ghastly.
Nevertheless the reader is to note well this Treaty of Warsaw, as
important to Friedrich and him; and indeed it is perhaps the
remarkablest Treaty, abortional or realized, which got to parchment
in that Century. For though it proved abortional, and no part of
it, now or afterwards, could be executed, and even the subsidy and
30,000 Saxons (stipulated in the "UNION of Warsaw") became crow's-
meat in a manner,--this preternatural "Treaty of Warsaw," trodden
down never so much by the heel of Destiny, and by the weight of new
Treaties, superseding it or presupposing its impossibility or
inconceivability, would by no means die (such the humor of Bruhl,
of the Two Majesties and others); but lay alive under the ashes,
carefully tended, for Ten or Twenty Years to come;--and had got all
Europe kindled again, for destruction of that bad Neighbor, before
it would itself consent to go out! And did succeed in getting
Saxony's back broken, if not the bad Neighbor's,--in answer to the
humor of little Bruhl; unfortunate Saxony to possess such a Bruhl!

In those beautiful Saxon-Austrian developments of the Treaty of
Warsaw, Czarina Elizabeth, bobbing about in that unlovely whirlpool
of intrigues, amours, devotions and strong liquor, which her
History is, took (ask not for what reason) a lively part:--and
already in this Spring of 1745, they hope she could, by "a gift of
two millions for her pleasures" (gift so easy to you Sea-Powers),
be stirred up to anger against Friedrich. And she did, in effect,
from this time, hover about in a manner questionable to Friedrich;
though not yet in anger, but only with the wish to be important,
and to make herself felt in Foreign affairs. Whether the Sea-Powers
gave her that trifle of pocket-money ("for her pleasures"), I never
knew; but it is certain they spent, first and last, very large
amounts that way, upon her and hers; especially the English did,
with what result may be considered questionable.

As for Graf von Bruhl, most rising man of Saxony, once a page;
now by industry King August III.'s first favorite and factotum;
the fact that he cordially hates Friedrich is too evident; but the
why is not known to me. Except indeed, That no man--especially no
man with three hundred and sixty-five fashionable suits of clothes
usually about him, different suit each day of the year--can be
comfortable in the evident contempt of another man. Other man of
sarcastic bantering turn, too; tongue sharp as needles;
whose sayings many birds of the air are busy to carry about.
Year after year, Bruhl (doubtless with help enough that way, if
there had needed such) hates him more and more; as the too jovial
Czarina herself comes to do, wounded by things that birds have
carried. And now we will go with Valori,--seeing better into some
things than Valori yet can.

     3. VALORI'S ACCOUNT OF HIS MISSION (in compressed form).
                      [Valori, i. 211-219.]

"Valori [I could guess about the 10th of February, but there is no
date at all] was despatched to Dresden with that fine project,
Polish Majesty for Kaiser: is authorized to offer 60,000 men, with
money corresponding, and no end of brilliant outlooks;--must keep
back his offers, however, if he find the people indisposed.
Which he did, to an extreme degree; nothing but vague talk,
procrastination, hesitation on the part of Bruhl. This wretched
little Bruhl has twelve tailors always sewing for him, and three
hundred and sixty-five suits of clothes: so many suits, all
pictured in a Book; a valet enters every morning, proposes a suit,
which, after deliberation, with perhaps amendments, is acceded to,
and worn at dinner. Vainest of human clothes-horses; foolishest
coxcomb Valori has seen: it is visibly his notion that it was he,
Bruhl, by his Saxon auxiliaries, by his masterly strokes of policy,
that checkmated Friedrich, and drove him from Bohemia last Year;
and, for the rest, that Friedrich is ruined, and will either shirk
out of Silesia, or be cut to ribbons there by the Austrian force
this Summer. To which Valori hints dissent; but it is ill received.
Valori sees the King; finds him, as expected, the fac-simile of
Bruhl in this matter; Jesuit Guarini the like: how otherwise?
They have his Majesty in their leash, and lead him as they please.

"At four every morning, this Guarini, Jesuit Confessor to the King
and Queen, comes to Bruhl; Bruhl settles with him what his Majesty
shall think, in reference to current business, this day;
Guarini then goes, confesses both Majesties; confesses, absolves,
turns in the due way to secular matters. At nine, Bruhl himself
arrives, for Privy Council: 'What is your Majesty pleased to think
on these points of current business?' Majesty serenely issues his
thoughts, in the form of orders; which are found correct to
pattern. This is the process with his Majesty. A poor Majesty,
taking deeply into tobacco; this is the way they have him benetted,
as in a dark cocoon of cobwebs, rendering the whole world invisible
to him. Which cunning arrangement is more and more perfected every
year; so that on all roads he travels, be it to mass, to hunt, to
dinner, any-whither in his Palace or out of it, there are faithful
creatures keeping eye, who admit no unsafe man to the least glimpse
of him by night or by day. In this manner he goes on; and before
the end of him, twenty years hence, has carried it far. Nothing but
disgust to be had out of business;--mutinous Polish Diets too, some
forty of them, in his time, not one of which did any business at
all, but ended in LIBERUM VETO, and Billingsgate conflagration,
perhaps with swords drawn: [See Buchholz, 154; &c.]--business more
and more disagreeable to him. What can Valori expect, on this
heroic occasion, from such a King?

"The Queen herself, Maria Theresa's Cousin, an ambitious
hard-favored Majesty,--who had sense once to dislike Bruhl, but has
been quite reconciled to him by her Jesuit Messenger of Heaven
(which latter is an oily, rather stupid creature, who really wishes
well to her, and loves a peaceable life at any price),--even she
will not take the bait. Valori was in Dresden nine days (middle
part of February, it is likely); never produced his big bait, his
60,000 men and other brilliancies, at all. He saw old Feldmarschall
Konigseck passing from Vienna towards the Netherlands Camp;
where he is to dry-nurse (so they irreverently call it, in time
coming) his Royal Highness of Cumberland, that magnificent English
Babe of War, and do feats with him this Summer." Konigseck, though
Valori did not know it, has endless diplomacies to do withal;
inspections of troops, advisings, in Hanover, in Holland, in
Dresden here; [Anonymous, <italic> Duke of Cumberland, <end italic>
p. 186.]--and secures the Saxon Electoral-Vote for his Grand-Duke
in passing. "The welcome given to Konigseck disgusted Valori;
on the ninth day he left; said adieu, seeing them blind to their
interest; and took post for Berlin,"--where he finds Friedrich much
out of humor at the Saxon reception of his magnanimities. [Valori,
i. 211-219; <italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 81-85.
For details on Bruhl, see <italic> Graf von Bruhl, Leben und
Charakter <end italic> (1760, No Place): Anonymous, by one Justi, a
noted Pamphleteer of the time: exists in English too, or partly
exists; but is unreadable, except on compulsion; and totally
unintelligible till after very much inquiry elsewhere.]

This Saxon intricacy, indecipherable, formidable, contemptible, was
the plague of Friedrich's life, one considerable plague, all
through this Campaign. Perhaps nothing in the Diplomatic sphere of
things caused him such perplexity, vexation, indignation.
An insoluble riddle to him; extremely contemptible, yet,--with a
huge Russia tacked to it, and looming minatory in the distance,--
from time to time, formidable enough. Let readers keep it in mind,
and try to imagine it. It cost Friedrich such guessing, computing,
arranging, rearranging, as would weary the toughest reader to hear
of in detail. How Friedrich did at last solve it (in December
coming), all readers will see with eyes!--


Early in March it becomes surmisable that Maillebois's Middle-Rhine
Army will not go a good road. Maillebois has been busy in those
countries, working extensive discontent; bullying mankind "to join
the Frankfurt Union," to join France at any rate, which nobody
would consent to; and exacting merciless contributions, which
everybody had to consent to and pay.--And now, on D'Ahremberg's
mere advance, with that poor Fraction of Pragmatic Army, roused
from its winter sleep, Maillebois, without waiting for
D'Ahremberg's attack, rapidly calls in his truculent detachments,
and rolls confusedly back into the Frankfurt regions. [Adelung, iv.
276-352 (December, 1744-March, 1745).] Upon which D'Ahremberg--if
by no means going upon Maillebois's throat--sets, at least, to
coercing Wilhelm of Hessen, our only friend in those parts; who is
already a good deal disgusted with the Maillebois procedures, and
at a loss what to do on the Kaiser's death, which has killed the
Frankfurt Union too. Wise Wilhelm consents, under D'Ahremberg's
menaces, to become Neutral; and recall his 6,000 out of Baiern,--
wishes he had them home beside him even now!

With an Election in the wind, it is doubly necessary for the
French, who have not even a Candidate as yet, to stand supreme and
minatory in the Frankfurt Country; and to King Friedrich it is
painfully questionable, whether Maillebois can do it. "Do it we
will; doubt not that, your Majesty!" answer Valori and the French;
--and study to make improvements, reinforcements, in their Rhine
Army. And they do, at least, change the General of their Middle-
Rhine Army,--that is to say, recall Prince Conti out of Italy,
where he has distinguished himself, and send Maillebois thither in
his stead,--who likewise distinguishes himself THERE, if that could
be a comfort to us! Whether the distinguished Conti will maintain
that Frankfurt Country in spite of the Austrians and their Election
movements, is still a question with Friedrich, though Valori
continued assuring him (always till July came) that, it was beyond
question. "Siege of Tournay, vigorous Campaign in the Netherlands
(for behoof of Britannic George)!" this is the grand French program
for the Year. This good intention was achieved, on the French part;
but this, like Aaron's rod among the serpents, proved to have EATEN
the others as it wriggled along!--

Those Maillebois-D'Ahremberg affairs throw a damp on the Bavarian
Question withal;--in fact, settle the Bavarian Question; her
Hungarian Majesty, tired of the delays, having ordered Bathyani to
shoulder arms again, and bring a decision. Bathyani, with Barenklau
to right of him, and Browne (our old Silesian friend) to left, goes
sweeping across those Seckendorf-Segur posts, and without
difficulty tumbles everything to ruin, at a grand rate. The traitor
Seckendorf had made such a choice of posts,--left unaltered by Drum
Thorring;--what could French valor do? Nothing; neither French
valor, nor Bavarian want of valor, could do anything but whirl to
the right-about, at sight of the Austrian Sweeping-Apparatus;
and go off explosively, as in former instances, at a rate almost
unique in military annals. Finished within three weeks or so!--
We glance only at two points of it. March 21st, Bathyani stood to
arms (to BESOMS we might call it), Browne on the left, Barenklau on
the right: it was March 21st when Bathyani started from Passau, up
the Donau Countries;--and within the week coming, see:--

"VILSHOFEN, 28th MARCH, 1745. Here, at the mouth of the Vils River
(between Inn and Iser), is the first considerable Post;
garrison some 4,000; Hessians and Prince Friedrich the main
part,--who have their share of valor, I dare say; but with such
news out of Hessen, not to speak of the prospects in this Country,
are probably in poorish spirits for acting. General Browne summons
them in Vilshofen, this day; and, on their negative, storms in upon
them, bursts them to pieces; upon which they beat chamade. But the
Croats, who are foremost, care nothing for chamade: go plundering,
slaughtering; burn the poor Town; butcher [in round numbers] 3,000
of the poor Hessians; and wound General Browne himself, while he
too vehemently interferes." [Adelung, iv. 356, and the half-
intelligible Foot-note in Ranke, iii. 220.] This was the finale of
those 6,000 Hessians, and indeed their principal function, while in
French pay;--and must have been, we can Judge how surprising to
Prince Friedrich, and to his Papa on hearing of it!
Note another point.

Precisely about this time twelvemonth, "March 16th, 1746," the same
Prince Friedrich, with remainder of those Hessians, now again
completed to 6,000, and come back with emphasis to the Britannic
side of things, was--marching out of Edinburgh, in much state, with
streamers, kettle-drums, Highness's coaches, horses, led-horses, on
an unexpected errand. [Henderson (Whig Eye-witness). <italic>
History of the Rebellion, <end italic> 1745 and 1746 (London, 1748,
reprint from the Edinburgh edition), pp. 104, 106, 107.]
Toward Stirling, Perth; towards Killiecrankie, and raising of what
is called "the Siege of Blair in Athol" (most minute of "sieges,"
but subtending a great angle there and then);--much of unexpected,
and nearer home than "Tournay and the Netherlands Campaign," having
happened to Britannic George in the course of this year, 1746!
"Really very fine troops, those Hessians [observes my orthodox Whig
friend]: they carry swords as well as guns and bayonets;
their uniform is blue turned up with white: the Hussar part of
them, about 500, have scimitars of a great length; small horses,
mostly black, of Swedish breed; swift durable little creatures,
with long tails." Honors, dinners, to his Serene Highness had been
numerous, during the three weeks we had him in Edinburgh;
"especially that Ball, February 21st (o.s.), eve of his Consort the
Princess Mary's Birthday [EVE of birthday, "let us dance the
auspicious morning IN] was, for affluence of Nobility and Gentry of
both sexes," a sublime thing. ...

PFAFFENHOFEN, APRIL 15th. "Unfortunate Segur, the Segur of Linz
three years ago,--whose conduct was great, according to Valori, but
powerless against traitors and fate!--was again, once more,
unfortunate in those parts. Unfortunate Segur drew up at
Pfaffenhofen (centre of the Country, many miles from Vilshofen) to
defend himself, when fallen upon by Barenklau, in that manner;
but could not, though with masterly demeanor; and had to retreat
three days, with his face to the enemy, so to speak, fighting and
manoeuvring all the way: no shelter for him either but Munchen, and
that, a most temporary one. Instead of taking Straubingen, taking
Passau, perhaps of pushing on to Vienna itself, this is what we
have already come to. No Rhine Army, Middle-Rhine Army, Coigny,
Maillebois, Conti, whoever it was, should send us the least
reinforcement, when shrieked to. No outlook whatever but rapid
withdrawal, retreat to the Rhine Army, since it will not stir to
help us." [Adelung, iv. 360.]

"The young Kur-Baiern is still polite, grateful [to us French],
overwhelms us with politeness; but flies to Augsburg, as his Father
used to do. Notable, however, his poor fat little Mother won't,
this time: 'No, I will stay here, I for one, and have done with
flying and running; we have had enough of that!' Seckendorf, quite
gone from Court in this crisis, reappears, about the middle of
April, in questionable capacity; at a place called Fussen, not far
off, at the foot of the Tyrol Hills;--where certain Austrian
Dignitaries seem also to be enjoying a picturesque Easter!
Yes indeed: and, on APRIL 22d, there is signed a 'PEACE OF FUSSEN'
there; general amicable AS-YOU-WERE, between Austria and Bavaria
('Renounce your Anti-Pragmatic moonshine forevermore, vote for our
Grand-Duke; there is your Bavaria back, poor wretches!')--
and Seckendorf, it is presumable, will get his Turkish
arrears liquidated.

"The Bavarian Intricacy, which once excelled human power, is
settled, then. Carteret and Haslang tried it in vain [dreadful
heterodox intentions of secularizing Salzburg, secularizing Passau,
Regensburg, and loud tremulous denial of such];--Carteret and
Wilhelm of Hesseu [Conferences of Hanau, which ruined Carteret], in
vain; King Friedrich, and many Kings, in vain: a thing nobody could
settle;--and it has at last settled itself, as the generality of
ill-guided and unlucky things do, by collapse. Delirium once out,
the law of gravity acts; and there the mad matter lies."

"Bought by Austria, that old villain!" cry the French.
Friedrich does not think the Austrians bought Seckendorf, having no
money at present; but guesses they may have given him to understand
that a certain large arrear of payment due ever since those Turkish
Wars,--when Seckendorf, instead of payment, was lodged in the
Fortress of Gratz, and almost got his head cut off,--should now be
paid down in cash, or authentic Paper-money, if matters become
amicable. [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 22;
<italic> Seckendorfs Leben, <end italic> pp. 367-376.] As they have
done, in Friedrich's despite;--who seems angrier at the old stager
for this particular ill-turn than for all the other many; and long
remembers it, as will appear.

                          Chapter VII.


Here, sure enough, are sad new intricacies in the Diplomatic,
hypothetic sphere of things; and clouds piling themselves ahead, in
a very minatory manner to King Friedrich. Let King Friedrich, all
the more, get his Fighting Arrangements made perfect. Diplomacy is
clouds; beating of your enemies is sea and land. Austria and the
Gazetteer world consider Friedrich to be as good as finished:
but that is privately far from being Friedrich's own opinion;--
though these occurrences are heavy and dismal to him, as none of us
can now fancy.

Herr Ranke has got access, in the Archives, to a series of private
utterances by Friedrich,--Letters from him, of a franker nature
than usual, and letting us far deeper into his mind;--which must
have been well worth reading in the original, in their fully dated
and developed condition. From Herr Ranke's Fragmentary Excerpts,
let us, thankful for what we have got, select one or two.
The Letters are to Minister Podewils at Berlin; written from
Silesia (Neisse and neighborhood), where, since the middle of
March, Friedrich has been, personally pushing on his Army
Preparations, while the above sinister things befell.

    KING FRIEDRICH TO PODEWILS, IN BERLIN (under various dates,
                        March-April, 1745).

NEISSE, 29th MARCH. ... "We find ourselves in a great crisis. If we
don't, by mediation of England, get Peace, our enemies from
different sides [Saxony, Austria, who knows if not Russia withal!]
will come plunging in against me. Peace I cannot force them to.
But if they must have War, we will either beat them, or none of us
will see Berlin again." [Ranke, iii. 236 et seqq.]

APRIL (no day given). ... "In any case, I have my troops well
together. The sicknesses are ceasing; the recruitments are coming
in: shortly all will be complete. That does not hinder us from
making Peace, if it will only come; but, in the contrary case,
nobody can accuse me of neglecting what was necessary."

APRIL 17th (still from Neisse). ... "I toil day and night to
improve our situation. The soldiers will do their duty. There is
none among us who will not rather have his backbone broken than
give up one foot-breadth of ground. They must either grant us a
good Peace, or we will surpass ourselves by miracles of daring;
and force the enemy to accept it from us."

APRIL 20th. "Our situation is disagreeable; constrained, a kind of
spasm: but my determination is taken. If we needs must fight, we
will do it like men driven desperate. Never was there a greater
peril than that I am now in. Time, at its own pleasure, will untie
this knot; or Destiny, if there is one, determine the event.
The game I play is so high, one cannot contemplate the issue with
cold blood. Pray for the return of my good luck."--Two days hence,
the poor young Kur-Baiern, deaf to the French seductions and
exertions, which were intense, had signed his "Peace of Fussen"
(22d April 1745),--a finale to France on the German Field, as may
be feared! The other Fragments we will give a little farther on.

Friedrich had left Berlin for Silesia March 15th; rather sooner
than he counted on,--Old Leopold pleading to be let home.
At Glogau, at Breslau, there had been the due inspecting:
Friedrich got to Neisse on the 23d (Bathyani just stirring in that
Bavarian Business, Vilshofen and the Hessians close ahead); and on
the 27th, had dismissed Old Leopold, with thanks and sympathies,--
sent him home, "to recover his health." Leopold's health is
probably suffering; but his heart and spirits still more. Poor old
man, he has just lost--the other week, "5th February" last--his
poor old Wife, at Dessau; and is broken down with grief. The soft
silk lining of his hard Existence, in all parts of it, is torn
away. Apothecary Fos's Daughter, Reich's Princess, Princess of
Dessau, called by whatever name, she had been the truest of Wives;
"used to attend him in all his Campaigns, for above fifty years
back." "Gone, now, forever gone!"--Old Leopold had wells of strange
sorrow in the rugged heart of him,--sorrow, and still better
things,--which he does not wear on his sleeve. Here is an incident
I never can forget;--dating twelve or thirteen years ago (as is
computable), middle of July, 1732.

"Louisa, Leopold's eldest Daughter, Wife of Victor Leopold,
reigning Prince of Anhalt-Bernburg, lay dying of a decline."
Still only twenty-three, poor Lady, though married seven years ago;
--the end now evidently drawing nigh. "A few days before her
death,--perhaps some attendant sorrowfully asking, 'Can we do
nothing, then?'--she was heard to say, 'If I could see my Father at
the head of his Regiment, yet once!'"--Halle, where the Regiment
lies, is some thirty or more miles off; and King Friedrioh Wilhelm,
I suppose, would have to be written to:--Leopold was ready the
soonest possible; and, "at a set hour, marched, in all pomp, with
banner flying, music playiug, into the SCHLOSS-HOF (Palace Court)
of Bernburg; and did the due salutations and manoeuvrings,--his
poor Daughter sitting at her window, till they ended;"--figure
them, the last glitter of those muskets, the last wail of that
band-music!--"The Regiment was then marched to the Waisenhaus
(ORPHAN-HOUSE), where the common men were treated with bread and
beer; all the Officers dining at the Prince's Table. All the
Officers, except Leopold alone, who stole away out of the crowd;
sat himself upon the balustrade of the Saale Bridge, and wept into
the river." [LEBEN (12mo; not Rannft's, but Anonymous like his),
p. 234 n.]--Leopold is now on the edge of seventy; ready to think
all is finished with him. Perhaps not quite, my tough old friend;
recover yourself a little, and we shall see!

Old Leopold is hardly home at Dessau, when new Pandour Tempests,
tides of ravaging War, again come beating against the Giant
Mountains, pouring through all passes; from utmost Jablunka,
westward by Jagerndorf to Glatz, huge influx of wild riding hordes,
each with some support of Austrian grenadiers, cannoniers;
threatening to submerge Silesia. Precursors, Friedrich need not
doubt, of a strenuous regular attempt that way, Hungarian Majesty's
fixed intention, hope and determination is, To expel him
straightway from Silesia. Her Patent circulates, these three
months; calling on all men to take note of that fixed fact,
especially on all Silesian men to note it well, and shift their
allegiance accordingly. Silesian men, in great majority,--our
friend the Mayor of Landshut, for example?--are believed to have no
inclination towards change: and whoever has, had clearly better not
show any till he see! [In Ranke (iii. 234), there is vestige of
some intended "voluntary subscription by the common people of
Glatz," for Friedrich's behoof;--contrariwise, in Orlich (ii. 380,
"6th February, 1745," from the Dessau Archives), notice of one
individual, suspected of stirring for Austria, whom "you are to put
under lock and key;"--but he runs off, and has no successor, that I
hear of.]--

Friedrich's thousand-fold preliminary orderings, movements,
rearrangings in his Army matters, must not detain us here;--still
less his dealings with the Pandour element, which is troublesome,
rather than dangerous. Vigilance, wise swift determination, valor
drilled to its work, can deal with phenomena of that nature, though
never so furious and innumerable. Not a cheering service for
drilled valor, but a very needful one. Continual bickerings and
skirmishings fell out, sometimes rising to sharp fight on the small
scale:--Austrian grenadiers with cannon are on that Height to left,
and also on this to right, meaning to cut off our march;
the difficult landscape furnished out, far and wide, with Pandour
companies in position: you must clash in, my Burschen; seize me
that cannon-battery yonder; master such and such a post,--there is
the heart of all that network of armed doggery; slit asunder that,
the network wholly will tumble over the Hills again. Which is
always done, on the part of the Prussian Burschen; though sometimes
not, without difficulty.--His Majesty is forming Magazines at
Neisse, Brieg, and the principal Fortresses in those parts;
driving on all manner of preparations at the rapidest rate of
speed, and looking with his own eyes into everything. The regiments
are about what we may call complete, arithmetically and otherwise;
the cavalry show good perfection in their new mode of manoeuvring;
--it is to be hoped the Fighting Apparatus generally will give fair
account of itself when the time comes. Our one anchor of hope, as
now more and more appears.

On the Pandour element he first tried (under General Hautcharmoi,
with Winterfeld as chief active hand) a direct outburst or two,
with a view to slash them home at once. But findiug that it was of
no use, as they always reappeared in new multitudes, he renounced
that; took to calling in his remoter outposts; and, except where
Magazines or the like remained to be cared for, let the Pandours
baffle about, checked only by the fortified Towns, and more and
more submerge the Hill Country. Prince Karl, to be expected in the
form of lion, mysteriously uncertain on which side coming to invade
us,--he, and not the innumerable weasel kind, is our important
matter! By the end of April (news of the PEACE OF FUSSEN coming
withal), Friedrich had quitted Neisse; lay cantoned, in Neisse
Valley (between Frankenstein and Patschkau, "able to assemble in
forty-eight hours"); studying, with his whole strength, to be ready
for the mysterious Prince Karl, on whatever side he might arrive;
--and disregarding the Pandours in comparison.

The points of inrush, the tideways of these Pandour Deluges seem to
be mainly three. Direct through the Jablunka, upon Ratibor Country,
is the first and chief; less direct (partly supplied by REFLUENCES
from Ratibor, when Ratibor is found not to answer), a second
disembogues by Jagerndorf; a third, the westernmost, by Landshut.
Three main ingresses: at each of which there fall out little
Fights; which are still celebrated in the Prussian Books, and
indeed well deserve reading by soldiers that would know their
trade. In the Ratibor parts, the invasive leader is a General
Karoly, with 12,000 under him, who are the wildest horde of all:
"Karoly lodges in a wood: for himself there is a tent;
his companions sleep under trees, or under the open sky, by the
edge of morasses." [Ranke, iii. 244.] It was against this Karoly
and his horde that Hautcharmoi's little expedition, or express
attacking party to drive them home again, was shot out (8th-2lst
April). Which did its work very prettily; Winterfeld, chief hand in
it, crowning the matter by a "Fight of Wurbitz," [Orlich, ii. 136
(21st April).]--where Winterfeld, cutting the taproot, in his usual
electric way, tumbles Karoly quite INTO the morasses, and clears
the country of him for a time. For a time; though for a time only;
--Karoly or others returning in a week or two, to a still higher
extent of thousands; mischievous as ever in those Ratibor-Namslau
countries. Upon which, Friedrich, finding this an endless business,
and nothing like the most important, gives it up for the present;
calls in his remoter detachments; has his Magazines carted home to
the Fortress Towns,--Karoly trying, once or so, to hinder in that
operation, but only again getting his crown broken. ["Fight of
Mocker," May 4th (Orlich, ii. 141).] Or if carting be too
difficult, still do not waste your Magazine:--Margraf Karl, for
instance, is ordered to Jagerndorf with his Detachment, "to eat the
Magazine;" hungry Pandours looking on, till he finish. On which
occasion a renowned little Fight took place (Fight of Neustadt, or
of Jagerndorf-Neustadt), as shall be mentioned farther on.

So that, for certain weeks to come, the Tolpatcheries had free
course, in those Frontier parts; and were left to rove about, under
check only of the Garrison Towns; Friedrich being obliged to look
elsewhere after higher perils, which were now coming in view.
In which favorable circumstances, Karoly and Consorts did, at last,
make one stroke in those Ratibor countries; that of Kosel, which
was greatly consolatory. [26th May, 1743 (Orlich, ii. 156-158).] 
"By treachery of an Ensign who had deserted to them [provoked by
rigor of discipline, or some intolerable thing], they glided
stealthily, one night, across the ditches, into Kosel" (a half-
fortified place, Prussian works only half finished): which, being
the Key of the Oder in those parts, they reckoned a glorious
conquest; of good omen and worthy of TE-DEUMS at Vienna. And they
did eagerly, without the least molestation, labor to complete the
Prussian works at Kosel: "One garrison already ours!"--which was
not had from them without battering (and I believe, burning), when
General von Nassau came to inquire after it; in Autumn next.

Friedrich had always hoped that the Saxons, who are not yet in
declared War with him, though bound by Treaty to assist the Queen
of Hungary under certain conditions, would not venture on actual
Invasion of his Territories; but in this, as readers anticipate,
Friedrich finds himself mistaken. Weissenfels is hastening from the
Leitmeritz northwestern quarter, where he has wintered, to join
Prince Karl, who is gathering himself from Olmutz and his
southeastern home region; their full intention is to invade Silesia
together, and they hope now at length to make an end of Friedrich
and it. These Pandour hordes, supported by the necessary grenadiers
and cannoniers, are sent as vanguard; these cannot themselves beat
him; but they may induce him (which they do not) to divide his
Force; they may, in part, burn him away as by slow fire, after
which he will be the easier to beat. Instead of which, Friedrich,
leaving the Pandours to their luck, lies concentrated in Neisse
Valley; watching, with all his faculties, Prince Karl's own advent
(coming on like Fate, indubitable, yet involved in mysteries
hitherto); and is perilously sensible that only in giving that a
good reception is there any hope left him.

Prince Karl "who arrived in Olmutz April 30th," commands in chief
again,--saddened, poor man, by the loss of his young Wife, in
December last; willing to still his grief in action for the cause
SHE loved;--but old Traun is not with him this year: which is a
still more material circumstance. Traun is to go this year, under
cloak not of Prince Karl, but of Grand-Duke Franz, to clear those
Frankfurt Countries for the KAISERWAHL and him. Prince Conti lies
there, with his famous "Middle-Rhine Army" (D'Ahremberg, from the
western parts, not nearly so diligent upon him as one could wish);
and must, at all rates, be cleared away. Traun, taking command of
Bathyani's Army (now that it has finished the Bavarian job), is
preparing to push down upon Conti, while Bathyani (who is to
supersede the laggard D'Ahremberg) shall push vigorously up;--and
before summer is over, we shall hear of Traun again, and Conti will
have heard!--

Friedrich's indignation, on learning that the Saxons were actually
on march, and gradually that they intended to invade him, was
great; and the whole matter is portentously enigmatic to him, as he
lies vigilant in Neisse Valley, waiting on the When and the How.
Indignation;--and yet there is need of caution withal. To be ready
for events, the Old Dessauer has, as one sure measure, been
requested to take charge, once more, of a "Camp of Observation" on
the Saxon Frontier (as of old, in 1741); and has given his consent:
["April 25th" consents (Orlich, ii. 130).] "Camp of Magdeburg,"
"Camp of Dieskau;" for it had various names and figures; checkings
of your hand, then layings of it on, heavier, lighter and again
heavier, according to one's various READINGS of the Saxon Mystery;
and we shall hear enough about it, intermittently, till December
coming: when it ended in a way we shall not forget!--On which take
this Note:--

"The Camp of Observation was to have begun May 1st; did begin
somewhat later, 'near Magdeburg,' not too close on the Frontier,
nor in too alarming strength; was reinforced to about 30,000;
in which state [middle of August] it stept forward to Wieskau, then
to Dieskau, close on the Saxon Border; and became,--with a Saxon
Camp lying close opposite, and War formally threatened, or almost
declared, on Saxony by Friedrich,--an alarmingly serious matter.
Friedrich, however, again checked his hand; and did not consummate
till November-December. But did then consummate; greatly against
his will; and in a way flamingly visible to all men!"
[Orlich, ii. 130, 209, 210: <italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end
italic> ii. 1224-1226; i. 1117.]

Friedrich's own incidental utterances (what more we have of
Fractions from the Podewils Letters), in such portentous aspect of
affairs, may now be worth giving. It is not now to Jordan that he
writes, gayly unbosoming himself, as in the First War,--poor Jordan
lies languishing, these many months; consumptive, too evidently
dying:--Not to Jordan, this time; nor is the theme "GLOIRE" now,
but a far different!

        FRIEDRICH TO PODEWILS (as before, April-May, 1745).

April 20th or so, Orders are come to Berlin (orders, to Podewils's
horror at such a thought), Whitherward, should Berlin be assaulted,
the Official Boards, the Preciosities and household gods are to
betake themselves:--to Magdeburg, all these, which is an
impregnable place; to Stettin, the Two Queens and Royal Family, if
they like it better. Podewils in horror, "hair standing on end,"
writes thereupon to Eichel, That he hopes the management, "in a
certain contingency," will be given to Minister Boden; he Podewils,
with his hair in that posture, being quite unequal to it.
Friedrich answers:--

"APRIL 26th. ... 'I can understand how you are getting uneasy, you
Berliners. I have the most to lose of you all; but I am quiet, and
prepared for events. If the Saxons take part,' as they surely will,
'in the Invasion of Silesia, and we beat them, I am determined to
plunge into Saxony. For great maladies, there need great remedies.
Either I will maintain my all, or else lose my all. [Hear it,
friend; and understand it,--with hair lying flat!] It is true, the
disaffection of the Russian Court, on such trifling grounds, was
not to be expected; and great misfortune can befall us.
Well; a year or two sooner, a year or two later,--it is not worth
one's while to bother about the very worst. If things take the
better turn, our condition will be surer and firmer than it was
before. If we have nothing to reproach ourselves with, neither need
we fret and plague ourselves about bad events, which can happen to
any man.'--'I am causing despatch a secret Order for Boden [on YOU
know what], which you will not deliver him till I give sign.'"--
On hearing of the Peace of Fussen, perhaps a day or so later,
Friedrich again writes:--

"APRIL [no distinct date; Neisse still? QUITS Neisse, April 28th].
... Peace of Fussen, Bavaria turned against me? 'I can say nothing
to it,--except, There has come what had to come. To me remains only
to possess myself in patience. If all alliances, resources, and
negotiations fail, and all conjunctures go against me, I prefer to
perish with honor, rather than lead an inglorious life deprived of
all dignity. My ambition whispers me that I have done more than
another to the building up of my House, and have played a
distinguished part among the crowned heads of Europe. To maintain
myself there, has become as it were a personal duty; which I will
fulfil at the expense of my happiness and my life. I have no choice
left: I will maintain my power, or it may go to ruin, and the
Prussian name be buried under it. If the enemy attempt anything
upon us, we will either beat him, or we will all be hewed to
pieces, for the sake of our Country, and the renown of Brandenburg.
No other counsel can I listen to.'"

SAME LETTER, OR ANOTHER? (Herr Ranke having his caprices!) ...
"You are a good man, my Podewils, and do what can be expected of
you" (Podewils has been apologizing for his terrors; and referring
hopefully "to Providence"): "Perform faithfully the given work on
your side, as I on mine; for the rest, let what you call
'Providence' decide as it likes [UNE PROVIDENCE AVEUGLE? Ranke, who
alone knows, gives "BLINDE VORSEHUNG." What an utterance, on the
part of this little Titan! Consider it as exceptional with him,
unusual, accidental to the hard moment, and perhaps not so impious
as it looks!]--Neither our prudence nor our courage shall be liable
to blame; but only circumstances that would not favor us. ...

"I prepare myself for every event. Fortune may be kind or be
unkind, it shall neither dishearten me nor uplift me. If I am to
perish, let it be with honor, and sword in hand. What the issue is
to be-- Well, what pleases Heaven, or the Other Party (J'AI JETE LE
BONNET PAR DESSUS LES MOULINS)! Adieu, my dear Podewils; become as
good a philosopher as you are a politician; and learn from a man
who does not go to Elsner's Preaching [fashionable at the time],
that one must oppose to ill fortune a brow of iron; and, during
this life, renounce all happiness, all acquisitions, possessions
and lying shows, none of which will follow us beyond the grave."
[Ranke, iii. pp. 238-241.]

"By what points the Austrian-Saxon Armament will come through upon
us? Together will it be, or separately? Saxons from the Lausitz,
Austrians from Bohmen, enclosing us between two fires?"--were
enigmatic questions with Friedrich; and the Saxons especially are
an enigma. But that come they will, that these Pandours are their
preliminary veiling-apparatus as usual, is evident to him; and that
he must not spend himself upon Pandours; but coalesce, and lie
ready for the main wrestle. So that from April 28th, as above
noticed, Friedrich has gone into cantonments, some way up the
Neisse Valley, westward of Neisse Town; and is calling in his
outposts, his detachments; emptying his Frontier Magazines;--
abandoning his Upper-Silesian Frontier more and more, and in the
end altogether, to the Pandour hordes; a small matter they,
compared to the grand Invasion which is coming on. Here, with
shiftings up the Neisse Valley, he lies till the end of May;
watching Argus-like, and scanning with every faculty the Austrian-
Saxon motions and intentions, until at length they become clear to
him, and we shall see how he deals with them.

His own lodging, or head-quarter, most of this time (4th May-27th
May), is in the pleasant Abbey of Camenz (mythic scene of that
BAUMGARTEN-SKIRMISH business, in the First Silesian War). He has
excellent Tobias Stusche for company in leisure hours; and the
outlook of bright Spring all round him, flowering into gorgeous
Summer, as he hurries about on his many occasions, not of an
idyllic nature. [Orlich, ii. 139; Ranke, iii. 242-249.] But his
Army is getting into excellent completeness of number, health,
equipment, and altogether such a spirit as he could wish. May 22d,
here is another snatch from some Note to Podewils, from this balmy
Locality, potential with such explosions of another kind.
CAMENZ, MAY 22d. ... "The Enemies are making movements; but nothing
like enough as yet for our guessing their designs. Till we see,
therefore, the thunder lies quiet in us (LA FOUDRE REPOSE EN MES
MAINS). Ah, could we but have a Day like that May Eleventh!"
[Ranke, iii. 248 n.]

What "that May Eleventh" is or was? Readers are curious to know;
especially English readers, who guess FONTENOY. And Historic Art,
if she were strict, would decline to inform them at any length;
for really the thing is no better than a "Victory on the Scamander,
and a Siege of Pekin" (as a certain observer did afterwards define
it), in reference to the matter now on hand! Well, Pharsalia,
Arbela, the Scamander, Armageddon, and so many Battles and
Victories being luminous, by study, to cultivated Englishmen, and
one's own Fontenoy such a mystery and riddle,--Art, after
consideration, reluctantly consents to be indulgent; will produce
from her Paper Imbroglios a slight Piece on the subject, and print
instead of burning.

                         Chapter VIII.


"Glorious Campaign in the Netherlands, Siege of Tournay, final ruin
of the Dutch Barrier!" this is the French program for Season 1745,
--no Belleisle to contradict it; Belleisle secure at Windsor, who
might have leant more towards German enterprises. And to this his
Britannic Majesty (small gain to him from that adroitness in the
Harz, last winter!) has to make front. And is strenuously doing so,
by all methods; especially by heroic expenditure of money, and
ditto exposure of his Martial Boy. Poor old Wade, last year,--
perhaps Wade did suffer, as he alleged, from "want of sufficient
authority in that mixed Army"? Well, here is a Prince of the Blood,
Royal Highness of Cumberland, to command in chief. With a Konigseck
to dry-nurse him, may not Royal Highness, luck favoring, do very
well? Luck did not favor; Britannic Majesty, neither in the
Netherlands over seas, nor at home (strange new domestic wool, of a
tarry HIGHLAND nature, being thrown him to card, on the sudden!),
made a good Campaign, but a bad. And again a bad (1746) and again
(1747), ever again, till he pleased to cease altogether. Of which
distressing objects we propose that the following one glimpse be
our last.

               BATTLE OF FONTENOY (11th May, 1745).

... "In the end of April, Marechal de Saxe, now become very famous
for his sieges in the Netherlands, opened trenches before Tournay;
King Louis, with his Dauphin, not to speak of mistresses, play-
actors and cookery apparatus (in wagons innumerable), hastens to be
there. A fighting Army, say of 70,000, besides the garrisons; and
great things, it is expected, will be done; Tournay, in spite of
strong works and Dutch garrison of 9,000, to be taken in the first

"Of the Siege, which was difficult and ardent, we will remember
nothing, except the mischance that befell a certain 'Marquis de
Talleyrand' and his men, in the trenches, one night. Night of the
8th-9th May, by carelessness of somebody, a spark got into the
Marquis's powder, two powder-barrels that there were; and, with
horrible crash, sent eighty men, Marquis Talleyrand and Engineer
Du Mazis among them, aloft into the other world; raining down their
limbs into the covered way, where the Dutch were very inhuman to
them, and provoked us to retaliate. [Espagnac, ii. 27.] Du Mazis I
do not know; but Marquis de Talleyrand turns out, on study of the
French Peerages, to be Uncle of a lame little Boy, who became Right
Reverend Tallyrand under singular conditions, and has made the name
very current in after-times!--

"Hearing of this Siege, the Duke of Cumberland hastened over from
England, with intent to raise the same. Mustered his 'Allied Army'
(once called 'Pragmatic'),--self at the head of it; old Count
Konigseck, who was NOT burnt at Chotusitz, commanding the small
Austrian quota [Austrians mainly are gone laggarding with
D'Ahremberg up the Rhine]; and a Prince of Waldeck the Dutch,--on
the plain of Anderlecht near Brussels, May 4th; [Anonymous,
<italic> Life of Cumberland, <end italic> p. 180; Espagnac, ii.
26.] and found all things tolerably complete. Upon which,
straightway, his Royal Highness, 60,000 strong let us say, set
forth; by slowish marches, and a route somewhat leftward of the
great Tournay Road [no place on it, except perhaps STEENKERKE, ever
heard of by an English reader]; and on Sunday, 9th May, [Espagnac,
ii. 27.] precisely on the morrow after poor Talleyrand had gone
aloft, reached certain final Villages: Vezon, Maubray, where he
encamps, Briffoeil to rear; Camp looking towards Tournay and the
setting sun,--with Fontenoy short way ahead, and Antoine to left of
it, and Barry with its Woods to right:--small peaceable Villages,
which become famous in the Newspapers shortly after. [Patch of Map
at p. 440.] Royal Highness, resting here at Vezon, is but some six
or seven miles from Tournay; in low undulating Country, woody here
and there, not without threads of running water, and with frequent
Villages and their adjuncts: the part of it now interesting to us
lies all between the Brussels-Tournay Road and the Scheld River,--
all in immediate front of his Royal Highness,--to southeastward
from beleaguered Tournay, where said Road and River intersect.
How shall he make some impression on the Siege of Tournay?
That is now the question; and his Royal Highness struggles to
manoeuvre accordingly.

Marechal de Saxe, whose habit is much that of vigilance,
forethought, sagacious precaution, singular in so dissolute a man,
has neglected nothing on this occasion. He knows every foot of the
ground, having sieged here, in his boyhood, once before. Leaving
the siege-trenches at Tournay, under charge of a ten or fifteen
thousand, he has taken camp here; still with superior force (56,000
as they count, Royal Highness being only 50,000 ranked), barring
Royal Highness's way. Tournay, or at least the Marechal's trenches
there, are on the right bank of the Scheld; which flows from
southeast, securing all on that hand. The broad Brussels Highway
comes in to him from the east;--north of that he has nothing to
fear, the ground being cut with bogs; no getting through upon him,
that way, to Tournay and what he calls the 'Under Scheld.'
The 'Upper Scheld' too, avail them nothing. There is only that
triangle to the southeast, between Road and River, where the Enemy
is now manoeuvring in front of him, from which damage can well
come; and he has done his best to be secure there. Four villages or
hamlets, close to the Scheld and onwards to the Great Road,--
Antoine, Fontenoy, Barry, Ramecroix, with their lanes and boscages,
--make a kind of circular base to his triangle; base of some six or
eight miles; with hollows in it, brooks, and northward a
considerable Wood [BOIS DE BARRY, enveloping Barry and Ramecroix,
which do not prove of much interest to us, though the BOIS does of
a good deal]. In and before each of those villages are posts and
defences; in Antoine and Fontenoy elaborate redoubts, batteries,
redans connecting: in the Wood (BOIS DE BARRY), an abattis, or wall
of felled trees, as well as cannon; and at the point of the Wood,
well within double range of Fontenoy, is a Redoubt, called of Eu
(REDOUTE D'EU, from the regiment occupying it), which will much
concern his Royal Highness and us. Saxe has a hundred pieces of
cannon [say the English, which is correct], consummately disposed
along this space; no ingress possible anywhere, except through the
cannon's throat; torrents of fire and cross-fire playing on you.
He is armed to the teeth, as they say; and has his 56,000 arranged
according to the best rules of tactics, behind this murderous line
of works. If his Royal Highness think of breaking in, he may count
on a very warm reception indeed.

"Saxe is only afraid his Royal Highness will not. Outside of these
lines, with a 50,000 dashing fiercely round us, under any kind of
leading; pouncing on our convoys; harassing and sieging US,--our
siege of Toumay were a sad outlook. And this is old Austrian
Konigseck's opinion, too; though, they say, Waldeck and the Dutch
(impetuous in theory at least) opined otherwise, and strengthened
Royal Highness's view. Two young men against one old: 'Be it so,
then!' His Royal Highness, resolute for getting in, manoeuvres and
investigates, all Monday 10th; his cannon is not to arrive
completely till night; otherwise he would be for breaking in at
once: a fearless young man, fearless as ever his poor Father was;
certainly a man SANS PEUY, this one too; whether of much AVIS, we
shall see anon.

"Tuesday morning early, 11th May, 1745, cannon being up, and
dispositions made, his Royal Highness sallies out; sees his men
taking their ground: Dutch and Austrians to the left, chiefly
opposite Antoine; English, with some Hanoverians, in the centre and
to the right; infantry in front, facing Fontenoy, cavalry to rear
flanking the Wood of Barry,--Konigseck, Ligonier and others able,
assisting to plant them advantageously; cannon going, on both
sides, the while; radiant enthusiasm, SANS PEUR ET SANS AVIS,
looking from his Royal Highness's face. He has been on horseback
since two in the morning; cannon started thundering between five
and six,--has killed chivalrous Grammont over yonder (the Grammont
of Dettingen), almost at the first volley. And now about the time
when ploughers breakfast (eight A.M., no ploughing hereabouts
to-day!), begins the attack, simultaneously or in swift succession,
on the various batteries which it will be necessary to attack
and storm.

"The attacks took place; but none of them succeeded. Dutch and
Austrians, on the extreme left, were to have stormed Antoine by the
edge of the River; that was their main task; right skirt of them to
help US meanwhile with Fontenoy. And they advanced, accordingly;
but found the shot from Antoine too fierce: especially when a
subsidiary battery opened from across the River, and took them in
flank, the Dutch and Austrians felt astonished; and hastily drew
aside, under some sheltering mound or earthwork they had found for
themselves, or prudently thrown up the night before. There, under
their earthwork, stood the Dutch and Austrians; patiently expecting
a fitter time,--which indeed never occurred; for always, the
instant they drew out, the batteries from Antoine, and from across
the River, instantly opened upon them, and they had to draw in
again. So that they stood there, in a manner, all day; and so to
speak did nothing but patiently expect when it should be time to
run. For which they were loudly censured, and deservedly.
Antoine is and remains a total failure on the part of the Dutch
and Austrians.

"Royal Highness in person, with his English, was to attack
Fontenoy;--and is doing so, by battery and storm, at various
points; with emphasis, though without result. As preliminary, at an
early stage he had sent forward on the right, by the Wood of Barry,
a Brigadier Ingoldsby 'with Semple's Highlanders' and other force,
to silence 'that redoubt yonder at the point of the Wood,'--
redoubt, fort, or whatever it be (famous REDOUTE D'EU, as it turned
out!),--which guards Fontenoy to north, and will take us in flank,
nay in rear, as we storm the cannon of the Village.
Ingoldsby, speed imperative on him, pushed into the Wood; found
French light-troops ('God knows how many of them!') prowling about
there; found the Redoubt a terribly strong thing, with ditch,
drawbridge, what not; spent thirty or forty of his Highlanders, in
some frantic attempt on it by rule of thumb;--and found 'He would
need artillery' and other things. In short, Ingoldsby, hasten what
he might, could not perfect the preparations to his mind, had to
wait for this and for that; and did not storm the Redoubt d'Eu at
all; but hung fire, in an unaccountable manner. For which he had to
answer (to Court-Martial, still more to the Newspapers) afterwards;
and prove that it was misfortune merely, or misfortune and
stupidity combined. Too evident, the REDOUTE D'EU was not taken,
then or thenceforth; which might have proved the saving of the
whole affair, could Ingoldsby have managed it. Royal Highness
attacked Fontenoy, and re-attacked, furiously, thrice over; and had
to desist, and find Fontenoy impossible on those terms.

"Here is a piece of work. Repulsed at all those points; and on the
left and on the right, no spirit visible but what deserves repulse!
His Royal Highness blazes into resplendent PLATT-DEUTSCH rage, what
we may call spiritual white-heat, a man SANS PEUR at any rate, and
pretty much SANS AVIS; decides that he must and will be through
those lines, if it please God; that he will not be repulsed at his
part of the attack, not he for one; but will plunge through, by
what gap there is [900 yards Voltaire measures it
[<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> xxviii. 150 (SIECLE DE LOUIS
QUINZE, c. xv. "BATAILLE DE FONTENOI,"--elaborately exact on all
sucb points).]] between Fontenoy and that Redoubt with its laggard
Ingoldsby; and see what the French interior is like! He rallies
rapidly, rearranges; forms himself in thin column or columns [three
of them, I think,--which gradually got crushed into one, as they
advanced, under caunon-shot on both hands],--wheeling his left
round, to be rear, his right to be head of said column or columns.
In column, the cannon-shot from Fontenoy on the left, and Redoubt
d'Eu on our right, will tell less on us; and between these two
death-dealing localities, by the hollowest, least shelterless way
discoverable, we mean to penetrate: (Forward, my men, steady and
swift, till we are through the shot-range, and find men to grapple
with, instead of case-shot and projectile iron!' Marechal de Saxe
owned afterwards, 'He should have put an additional redoubt in that
place, but he did not think any Army would try such a thing'
(cannon batteries playing on each hand at 400 yards distance);--nor
has any Army since or before!

"These columns advance, however; through bushy hollows, water-
courses, through what defiles or hollowest grounds there are;
endure the cannon-shot, while they must; trailing their own heavy
guns by hand, and occasionally blasting out of them where the
ground favors;--and do, with indignant patience, wind themselves
through, pretty much beyond direct shot-range of either d'Eu or
Fontenoy. And have actually got into the interior mystery of the
French Line of Battle,--which is not a little astonished to see
them there! It is over a kind of blunt ridge, or rising ground,
that they are coming: on the crown of this rising ground, the
French regiment fronting it (GARDES FRANCAISES as it chanced to be)
notices, with surprise, field-cannon pointed the wrong way;
actual British artillery unaccountably showing itself there.
Regiment of GARDES rushes up to seize said field-pieces: but, on
the summit, perceives with amazement that it cannot; that a heavy
volley of musketry blazes into it (killing sixty men); that it will
have to rush back again, and report progress: Huge British force,
of unknown extent, is readjusting itself into column there, and
will be upon us on the instant. Here is news!

"News true enough. The head of the English column comes to sight,
over the rising ground, close by: their officers doff their hats,
politely saluting ours, who return the civility: was ever such
politeness seen before? It is a fact; and among the memorablest of
this Battle. Nay a certain English Officer of mark--Lord Charles
Hay the name of him, valued surely in the annals of the Hay and
Tweeddale House--steps forward from the ranks, as if wishing
something. Towards whom [says the accurate Espagnac] Marquis
d'Auteroche, grenadier-lieutenant, with air of polite
interrogation, not knowing what he meant, made a step or two:
'Monsieur,' said Lord Charles (LORD CHARLES-HAY), 'bid your people
JAMAIS LES PREMIERS (We never fire first).' [Espagnac, ii. 60 (of
the ORIGINAL, Toulouse, 1789); ii. 48 of the German Translation
(Leipzig, 1774), our usual reference. Voltaire, endlessly informed
upon details this time, is equally express: "MILORD CHARLES HAY,
FRANCAISES, TIREZ!' To which Count d'Auteroche with a loud voice
answered" &c. (<italic> OEuvres, vol.  xxviii. p. 155.) See also
<italic> Souvenirs du Marquis de Valfons <end italic> (edited by a
Grand-Nephew, Paris, 1860), p. 151;--a poor, considerably noisy and
unclean little Book; which proves unexpectedly worth looking at, in
regard to some of those poor Battles and personages and
occurrences: the Bohemian Belleisle-Broglio part, to my regret, if
to no other person's, has been omitted, as extinct, or
undecipherable by the Grand-Nephew.] After YOU, Sirs! Is not this a
bit of modern chivalry? A supreme politeness in that sniffing
pococurante kind; probably the highest point (or lowest) it ever
went to. Which I have often thought of."

It is almost pity to disturb an elegant Historical Passage of this
kind, circulating round the world, in some glory, for a century
past: but there has a small irrefragable Document come to me, which
modifies it a good deal, and reduces matters to the business form.
Lord Charles Hay, "Lieutenant-Colonel," practical Head, "of the
First Regiment of Foot-guards," wrote, about three weeks after (or
dictated in sad spelling, not himself able to write for wounds), a
Letter to his Brother, of which here is an Excerpt at first hand,
with only the spelling altered: ... "It was our Regiment that
attacked the French Guards: and when we came within twenty or
thirty paces of them, I advanced before our Regiment; drank to them
[to the French, from the pocket-pistol one carries on such
occasions], and told them that we were the English Guards, and
hoped that they would stand till we came quite up to them, and not
swim the Scheld as they did the Mayn at Dettingen [shameful THIRD-
BRIDGE, not of wood, though carpeted with blue cloth there]!
Upon which I immediately turned about to our own Regiment;
speeched them, and made them huzza,"--I hope with a will.
"An Officer [d'Auteroche] came out of the ranks, and tried to make
his men huzza; however, there were not above three or four in their
Brigade that did." ["Ath, May ye 20th, o.s." (to John, Fourth
Marquis of Tweeddale, last "Secretary of State for Scotland," and a
man of figure in his day): Letter is at Yester House, East Lothian;
Excerpt PENES ME.] ...

Very poor counter-huzza. And not the least whisper of that sublime
"After you, Sirs!" but rather, in confused form, of quite the
reverse; Hay having been himself fired into ("fire had begun on my
left;" Hay totally ignorant on which side first),--fired into,
rather feebly, and wounded by those D'Auteroche people, while he
was still advancing with shouldered arms;--upon which, and not till
which, he did give it them: in liberal dose; and quite blew them
off the ground, for that day. From all which, one has to infer,
That the mutual salutation by hat was probably a fact; that, for
certain, there was some slight preliminary talk and gesticulation,
but in the Homeric style, by no means in the Espagnac-French,--
not chivalrous epigram at all, mere rough banter, and what is
called "chaffing;"--and in short, that the French Mess-rooms (with
their eloquent talent that way) had rounded off the thing into the
current epigrammatic redaction; the authentic business-form of it
being ruggedly what is now given. Let our Manuscript proceed.

"D'Auteroche declining the first fire,"--or accepting it, if ever
offered, nobody can say,--"the three Guards Regiments, Lord
Charles's on the right, give it him hot and heavy, 'tremendous
rolling fire;' so that D'Auteroche, responding more or less, cannot
stand it; but has at once to rustle into discontinuity, he and his,
and roll rapidly out of the way. And the British Column advances,
steadily, terribly, hurling back all opposition from it; deeper and
deeper into the interior mysteries of the French Host; blasting its
way with gunpowder;--in a magnificent manner. A compact Column,
slowly advancing,--apparently of some 16,000 foot.
Pauses, readjusts itself a little, when not meddled with;
when meddled with, has cannon, has rolling fire,--delivers from it,
in fact, on both hands such a torrent of deadly continuous fire as
was rarely seen before or since. 'FEU INFERNAL,' the French call
it. The French make vehement resistance. Battalions, squadrons,
regiment after regiment, charge madly on this terrible Column; but
rush only on destruction thereby. Regiment This storms in from the
right, regiment That from the left; have their colonels shot, 'lose
the half of their people;' and hastily draw back again, in a
wrecked condition. The cavalry-horses cannot stand such smoke and
blazing; nor indeed, I think, can the cavaliers. REGIMENT DU ROI
rushing on, full gallop, to charge this Column, got one volley from
it [says Espagnac] which brought to the ground 460 men.
Natural enough that horses take the bit between their teeth;
likewise that men take it, and career very madly in such

MAP Chap. VIII, Book 15, PAGE 440 GOES ABOUT HERE--------

"The terrible Column with slow inflexibility advances; cannon (now
in reversed position) from that Redoubt d'Eu ('Shame on you,
Ingoldsby!'), and irregular musketry from Fontenoy side, playing
upon it; defeated regiments making barriers of their dead men and
firing there; Column always closing its gapped ranks, and girdled
with insupportable fire. It ought to have taken Fontenoy and
Redoubt d'Eu, say military men; it ought to have done several
things! It has now cut the French fairly in two;--and Saxe, who is
earnestly surveying it a hundred paces ahead, sends word, conjuring
the King to retire instantly,--across the Scheld, by Calonne Bridge
and the strong rear-guard there,--who, however, will not. King and
Dauphin, on horseback both, have stood 'at the Justice (GALLOWS, in
fact) of our Lady of the Woods,' not stirring much, occasionally
shifting to a windmill which is still higher,--ye Heavens, with
what intrepidity, all day!--'a good many country-folk in trees
close behind them.' Country-folk, I suppose, have by this time seen
enough, and are copiously making off: but the King will not, though
things do look dubious.

"In fact, the Battle hangs now upon a hair; the Battle is as good
as lost, thinks Marechal de Saxe. His battle-lines torn in two in
that manner, hovering in ragged clouds over the field, what hope is
there in the Battle? Fontenoy is firing blank, this some time;
its cannon-balls done. Officers, in Antoine, are about withdrawing
the artillery,--then again (on new order) replacing it awhile.
All are looking towards the Scheld Bridge; earnestly entreating his
Majesty to withdraw. Had the Dutch, at this point of time, broken
heartily in, as Waldeck was urging them to do, upon the redoubts of
Antoine; or had his Royal Highness the Duke, for his own behoof,
possessed due cavalry or artillery to act upon these ragged clouds,
which hang broken there, very fit for being swept, were there an
artillery-and-horse besom to do it,--in either of these cases the
Battle was the Duke's. And a right fiery victory it would have
been; to make his name famous; and confirm the English in their mad
method of fighting, like Baresarks or Janizaries rather than
strategic human creatures. [See, in Busching's <italic> Magazin,
<end italic> xvi. 169 ("Your illustrious 'Column,' at Fontenoy?
It was fortuitous, I say; done like janizaries;" and so forth), a
Criticism worth reading by soldiers.]

"But neither of these contingencies had befallen. The Dutch-
Austrian wing did evince some wish to get possession of Antoine;
and drew out a little; but the guns also awoke upon them;
whereupon the Dutch-Austrians drew in again, thinking the time not
come. As for the Duke, he had taken with him of cannon a good few;
but of horse none at all (impossible for horse, unless Fontenoy and
the Redoubt d'Eu were ours!)--and his horse have been hanging
about, in the Wood of Barry all this while, uncertain what to do;
their old Commander being killed withal, and their new a dubitative
person, and no orders left. The Duke had left no orders; having
indeed broken in here, in what we called a spiritual white-heat,
without asking himself much what he would do when in: 'Beat the
French, knock them to powder if I can!'--Meanwhile the French
clouds are reassembling a little: Royal Highness too is readjusting
himself, now got '300 yards ahead of Fontenoy,'--pauses there about
half an hour, not seeing his way farther.

"During which pause, Duc de Richelieu, famous blackguard man,
gallops up to the Marechal, gallops rapidly from Marechal to King;
suggesting, 'were cannon brought AHEAD of this close deep Column,
might not they shear it into beautiful destruction; and then a
general charge be made?' So counselled Richelieu: it is said, the
Jacobite Irishman, Count Lally of the Irish Brigade, was prime
author of this notion,--a man of tragic notoriety in time coming.
["Thomas Arthur Lally Comte de Tollendal," patronymically
"O'MuLALLY of TULLINDALLY" (a place somewhere in Connaught,
undiscoverable where, not material where): see our dropsical friend
(in one of his wheeziest states), <italic> King James's Irish
Army-List <end italic> (Dublin, 1855), pp. 594-600.] Whoever was
author of it, Marechal de Saxe adopts it eagerly, King Louis
eagerly: swift it becomes a fact. Universal rally, universal
simultaneous charge on both flanks of the terrible Column: this it
might resist, as it has done these two hours past; but cannon
ahead, shearing gaps through it from end to end, this is what no
column can resist;--and only perhaps one of Friedrich's columns (if
even that) with Friedrich's eye upon it, could make its half-right-
about (QUART DE CONVERSION), turn its side to it, and manoeuvre out
of it, in such circumstances. The wrathful English column, slit
into ribbons, can do nothing at manoeuvring; blazes and rages,--
more and more clearly in vain; collapses by degrees, rolls into
ribbon-coils, and winds itself out of the field. Not much chased,--
its cavalry now seeing a job, and issuing from the Wood of Barry to
cover the retreat. Not much chased;--yet with a loss, they say, in
all, of 7,000 killed and wounded, and about 2,000 prisoners;
French loss being under 5,000.

"The Dutch and Austrians had found that the fit time was now come,
or taken time by the forelock,--their part of the loss, they said,
was a thousand and odd hundreds. The Battle ended about two o'clock
of the day; had begun about eight. Tuesday, 11th May, 1745: one of
the hottest half-day's works I have known. A thing much to be
meditated by the English mind.--King Louis stept down from the
Gallows-Hill of Our Lady; and KISSED Marechal de Saxe. Saxe was
nearly dead of dropsy; could not sit on horseback, except for
minutes; was carried about in a wicker bed; has had a lead bullet
in his mouth, all day, to mitigate the intolerable thirst.
Tournay was soon taken; the Dutch garrison, though strong, and in a
strong place, making no due debate.

"Royal Highness retired upon Ath and Brussels; hovered about,
nothing daunted, he or his: 'Dastard fellows, they would not come
out into the open ground, and try us fairly!' snort indignantly the
Gazetteers and enlightened Public. [Old Newspapers.]
Nothing daunted;--but, as it were, did not do anything farther,
this Campaign; except lose Gand, by negligence VERSUS vigilance,
and eat his victuals,--till called home by the Rebellion Business,
in an unexpected manner! Fontenoy was the nearest approach he ever
made to getting victory in a battle; but a miss too, as they all
were. He was nothing like so rash, on subsequent occasions; but had
no better luck; and was beaten in all his battles--except the
immortal Victory of Culloden alone. Which latter indeed, was it not
itself (in the Gazetteer mind) a kind of apotheosis, or lifting of
a man to the immortal gods,--by endless tar-barrels and beer, for
the time being?

"Old Marechal de Noailles was in this Battle; busy about the
redans, and proud to see his Saxe do well. Chivalrous Grammont,
too, as we saw, was there,---killed at the first discharge.
Prince de Soubise too (not killed); a certain Lord George Sackville
(hurt slightly,--perhaps had BETTER have been killed!)--and others
known to us, or that will be known. Army-Surgeon La Mettrie, of
busy brain, expert with his tourniquets and scalpels, but of wildly
blusterous heterodox tongue and ways, is thrice-busy in Hospital
this night,--'English and French all one to you, nay, if anything,
the English better!' those are the Royal orders:--La Mettrie will
turn up, in new capacity, still blusterous, at Berlin, by and by.

"The French made immense explosions of rejoicing over this Victory
of Fontenoy; Voltaire (now a man well at Court) celebrating it in
prose and verse, to an amazing degree (21,000 copies sold in one
day); the whole Nation blazing out over it into illuminations, arcs
of triumph and universal three-times-three:--in short, I think,
nearly the heartiest National Huzza, loud, deep, long-drawn, that
the Nation ever gave in like case. Now rather curious to consider,
at this distance of time. Miraculous Anecdotes, true and not true,
are many. Not to mention again that surprising offer of the first
fire to us, what shall we say of the 'two camp-sutlers whom I
noticed,' English females of the lowest degree; 'one of whom was
busy slitting the gold-lace from a dead Officer, when a cannon-ball
came whistling, and shore her head away. Upon which, without sound
uttered, her neighbor snatched the scissors, and deliberately
proceeded.' [De Hordt, <italic> Memoires, <end italic> i. 108.
A FRENCH OFFICER'S ACCOUNT (translated in <italic> Gentleman's
Magazine, <end italic> 1745; where, pp. 246, 250, 291, 313, &c.,
are many confused details and speculations on this subject).]
A deliberate gloomy people;--unconquerable except by French
prowess, glory to that same!"

Britannic Majesty is not successful this season; Highland
Rebellions rising on him, and much going awry. He is founding his
National Debt, poor Majesty; nothing else to speak of. His poor
Army, fighting never so well in Foreign quarrels,--and generally
itself standing the brunt, with the co-partners looking on till it
is time to run (as at Roucoux again next season, and at Lauffeld
next),--can win nothing but hard knocks and losses. And is defined
by mankind,--in phraseology which we have heard again since then!
--as having "the heart of a Lion and the head of an Ass."
[Old Pamphlets, SOEPIUS.] Portentous to contemplate!--

Cape Breton was besieged this Summer, in a creditable manner;
and taken. The one real stroke done upon France this Year, or
indeed (except at sea) throughout the War. "Ruin to their
Fisheries, and a clear loss of 1,400,000 pounds a year."
Compared with which all these fine "Victories in Flanders" are a
bottle of moonshine. This was actually a kind of stroke;--and this,
one finds, was accomplished, under presidency of a small squadron
of King's ships, by ('New-England Volunteers," on funds raised by
subscription, in the way of joint-stock. A shining Colonial feat;
said to be very perfectly done, both scrip part of it, and fighting
part; [Adelung, v. 32-35 ("27th June, 1745, after a siege of
forty-nine days"): see "Gibson, <italic> Journal of the Siege;"
<end italic>  "Mr. Prince (of the South Church, Boston),
THANKSGIVING SERMON (price fourpence);" &c. &c.: in the Old
Newspapers, 1745, 1748, multifarious Notices about it, and then
about the "repayment" of those excellent "joint-stock" people.]
--and might have yielded, what incalculable dividends in the
Fishery way! But had to be given up again, in exchange for the
Netherlands, when Peace came. Alas, your Majesty! Would it be quite
impossible, then, to go direct upon your own sole errand, the
JENKINS'S-EAR one, instead of stumbling about among the Foreign
chimney-pots, far and wide, under nightmares, in this terrible
manner?--Let us to Silesia again.

                          Chapter IX.


Valori, who is to be of Friedrich's Campaign this Year, came
posting off directly in rear of the glorious news of Fontenoy;
found Friedrich at Camenz, rather in spirits than otherwise;
and lodged pleasantly with Abbot Tobias and him, till the Campaign
should begin. Two things surprise Valori: first, the great
strength, impregnable as it were, to which Neisse has been brought
since he saw it last,--superlative condition of that Fortress, and
of the Army itself, as it gathers daily more and more about
Frankenstein here:--and then secondly, and contrariwise, the
strangely neglected posture of mountainous or Upper Silesia, given
up to Pandours. Quite submerged, in a manner: Margraf Karl lies
quiet among them at Jagerndorf, "eating his magazine;" General
Hautcharmoi (Winterfeld's late chief in that Wurben affair), with
his small Detachment, still hovers about in those Ratibor parts,
"with the Strong Towns to fall-back upon," or has in effect fallen
back accordingly; and nothing done to coerce the Pandours at all.
While Prince Karl and Weissenfels are daily coming on, in force
100,000, their intention certain; force, say, about 100,000
regular! Very singular to Valori.

"Sire, will not you dispute the Passes, then?" asks Valori, amazed:
"Not defend your Mountain rampart, then?" "MON CHER; the Mountain
rampart is three or four hundred miles long; there are twelve or
twenty practicable roads through it. One is kept in darkness, too;
endless Pandour doggery shutting out your daylight:--ill defending
such a rampart," answers Friedrich. "But how, then," persists
Valori; "but--?" "One day the King answered me," says Valori,
"'MON AMI, if you want to get the mouse, don't shut, the trap;
leave the trap open (ON LAISSE LA SOURICIERE OUVERTE)!'" Which was
a beam of light to the inquiring thought of Valori, a military man
of some intelligence. [See VALORI, i. 222, 224, 228.]

That, in fact, is Friedrich's purpose privately formed. He means
that the Austrians shall consider him cowed into nothing, as he
understands they already do; that they shall enter Silesia in the
notion of chasing him; and shall, if need be, have the pleasure of
chasing him,--till perhaps a right moment arrive. For he is full of
silent finesse, this young King; soon sees into his man, and can
lead him strange dances on occasion. In no man is there a
plentifuler vein of cunning, nor of a finer kind. Lynx-eyed
perspicacity, inexhaustible contrivance, prompt ingenuity,--a man
very dangerous to play with at games of skill. And it is cunning
regulated always by a noble sense of honor, too; instinctively
abhorrent of attorneyism and the swindler element: a cunning, sharp
as the vulpine, yet always strictly human, which is rather
beautiful to see. This is one of Friedrich's marked endowments.
Intellect sun-clear, wholly practical (need not be specially deep),
and entirely loyal to the fact before it; this--if you add rapidity
and energy, prompt weight of stroke, such as was seldom met with--
will render a man very dangerous to his adversary in the game of
war.--Here is the last of our Pandour Adventures for the present:--

"From May 12th, Friedrich had been gathering closer and closer
about Frankenstein; by the end of the month (28th, as it proved) he
intends that all Detachments shall be home, and the Army take Camp
there. The most are home; Margraf Karl, at Jagerndorf, has not yet
done eating his magazine; but he too must come home. Summon the
Margraf home:--it is not doubted he will cut himself through, he
and his 12,000; but such is the swarm of Pandours hovering between
him and us, no estafette, or cleverest letter-bearer, can hope to
get across to him. Ziethen with 500 Hussars, he must take the
Letter; there is no other way. Ziethen mounts; fares swiftly forth,
towards Neustadt, with his Letter; lodges in woods; dodges the
thick-crowding Tolpatcheries (passes himself off for a Tolpatchery,
say some, and captures Hungarian Staff-Officers who come to give
him orders [Frau van Blumenthal, <italic> Life of De Ziethen, <end
italic> pp. 171-181 (extremely romantic; now given up as mythical,
for most part): see Orlich (ii. 150); but also Ranke (iii. 245),
Preuss, &c.]); is at length found out, and furiously set upon,
'Ziethen, Hah!'--but gets to Jagerndorf, Margraf Karl coming out to
the rescue, and delivers his Letter. 'Home, then, all of us
to-morrow!' And so, Saturday, 22d May, before we get to Neustadt on
the way home, there is an authentic passage of arms, done very
brilliantly by Margraf Karl against Pandours and others.
"To right of us, to left, barring our road, the enemy, 20,000 of
them, stand ranked on heights, in chosen positions; cannon-
batteries, grenadiers, dragoons of Gotha and infinite Pandours:
military jungle bristling far and wide. And you must push it
heartily, and likewise cut the tap-root of it (seize its big guns),
or it will not roll away. Margraf Karl shoots forth his steady
infantry ('Silent till you see the whites of their eyes!'),--his
cavalry with new manoeuvres; whose behavior is worthy of Ziethen
himself:--in brief, the jungle is struck as by a whirlwind, the
tap-root of it cut, and rolls simultaneously out of range, leaving
only the Regiment of Gotha,, Regiment of Ogilvy and some Regulars,
who also get torn to shreds, and utterly ruined. Seeing which, the
Pandour jungle plunges wholly into the woods, uttering horrible
cries (EN POUSSANT DES CRIS TERRIBLES), says Friedrich.
[<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 106. More
SCHLESIEN VORGEFALLENER ACTION (Seyfarth, <italic> Beylage, <end
italic> i. 159-166).] Our new cavalry-manoeuvres deserve praise.
Margraf Karl had the honor to gain his Cousin's approbation this
day; and to prove himself, says the Cousin, (worthy of the
grandfather he came from,'--my own great-grandfather;
Great Elector, Friedrich-Wilhelm; whose style of motion at
Fehrbellin, or on the ice of the Frische Haf (soldiers all in
sledges, tearing along to be at the Swedes), was probably somewhat
of this kind." ...

"Some days ago, Winterfeld had been pushed out to Landshut, with
Detachment of 2,000, to judge a little for himself which way the
Austrians were coming, and to scare off certain Uhlans (the SAXON
species of Tolpatchery), who were threatening to be mischievous
thereabouts. The Uhlans, at sound of Winterfeld, jingled away at
once: but, in a day or two, there came upon him, on the sudden,
Pandour outburst in quite other force;--and in the very hours while
Ziethen was struggling into Jagerndorf, and still more emphatically
next day, while Margraf Karl was handling his Pandours,--Colonel
Winterfeld, a hundred miles to westward lapped among the Mountains,
chanced to be dealing again with the same article. Very busy with
it, from 4 o'clock this morning; likely to give a good account of
the job. Steadily defending Landshut and himself, against the
grenadier battalions, cannon and furious overplus of Pandours
(8,000 or 9,000, it is said, six to one or so in the article of
cavalry), which General Nadasti, a scientific leader of men or
Pandours, skilfully and furiously hurls upon Landshut and him, in
an unexpected manner. Colonel Winterfeld had need of all his heart
and energy, in the intricate ground; against the furious overplus
well manoeuvred: but in him too there are manoeuvres; if he fall
back here, it is to rush on double strong there; hour after hour he
inexpugnably defends himself,--till General Stille, Friedrich's old
Tutor, our worthy writing friend, whom we occasionally quote, comes
up with help; and Nadasti is at once brushed home again, with sore
smart of failure, and 'the loss of 600 killed,' among other items.
[<italic> Bericht von der am 21 Mai, 1745 bey Landshut
rorgefallener Action, in Feldzuge, <end italic> i. 302-305 (or in
Seyfarth, <italic> Beylage, <end italic> i. 155-158); <italic>
OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 105; Stille, pp. 120-124
(who misdates, "23d May" for 22d).] Colonel Winterfeld was made
Major-General next day, for this action. Colonel Winterfeld is
cutting out a high course for himself, by his conduct in these
employments; solidity, brilliant effectuality, shining through all
he does; his valor and value, his rapid just insight, fiery energy
and nobleness of mind more and more disclosing themselves,--to one
who is a judge of men, and greatly needs for his own use the first-
rate quality in that article."

Friedrich has left the mouse-trap open;--and latterly has been
baiting it with a pleasant spicing of toasted cheese. One of his
Spies, reporting from Prince Karl's quarters, Friedrich has at this
time discovered to be a Double-Spy, reporting thither as well.
Double-Spy, there is an ugly fact;--perhaps not quite convenient to
abolish it by hemp and gibbet; perhaps it could be turned to use,
as most facts can? "Very good, my expert Herr von Schonfeld [that
was the knave's name]; and now of all things, whenever the Prince
does get across,--instant word to us of that! Nothing so important
to us. If he should get BETWEEN us and Breslau, for example, what
would the consequence be!" To this purport Friedrich instructs his
Double-Spy; sends him off, unhanged, to Prince Karl's Camp, to blab
this fresh bit of knowledge. "We likewise," says Friedrich,
"ordered some repairs on the roads leading to Breslau;"--last turn
of the hand to our bit of toasted fragrancy. And Prince Karl is
actually striding forward, at an eager pace:--and Nadasti VERSUS
Winterfeld, the other day, could Winterfeld have guessed it, was
the actual vanguard of the march; and will be up again straightway!
Whereupon Winterfeld too is called home; and all eyes are bent on
the Landshut side.

Prince Karl, under these fine omens, had been urgent on the Saxons
to be swift; Saxons under Weissenfels did at last "get their cannon
up," and we hear of them for certain, in junction with the
Austrians, at Schatzlar, on the Bohemian side of the Giant-
Mountains; climbing with diligence those wizard solitudes and
highland wastes. In a word, they roll across into Silesia, to
Landshut (29th May); nothing doubting but Friedrich has cowered
into what retreats he has, as good as desperate of Silesia, and
will probably be first heard of in Breslau, when they get thither
with their sieging guns. No cautious sagacious old Feldmarschall
Traun is in that Host at present; nothing but a Prince Karl, and a
poor Duke of Weissenfels; who are too certain of several things;--
very capable of certainty, and also of doubt, the wrong way of the
facts. Their force is, by strict count, 75,000; and they march from
Landshut, detained a little by provender concerns, on the last day
of May. [Orlich, ii. 146; Ranke, iii. 247; Stenzel, iv. 245.]

May 28th, Friedrich had encamped at Frankenstein; May 30th, he sets
forth northwestward, to be nearer the new scene; encamps at
Reichenbach, that night; pushes forward again, next day, for
Schweidnitz, for Striegau (in all, a shift northwest of some forty
miles);--and from June 1st, lies stretched out between Schweidnitz
and Striegau, nine miles long; well hidden in the hollows of the
little Rivers thereabouts (Schweidnitz Water, Striegau Water), with
their little knolls and hills; watching Prince Karl's probable
place of egress from the Mountain Country opposite. His main Camp
is from Schweidnitz to Jauernik, some five miles long; but he has
his vanguard up as far as Striegau, Dumoulin and Winterfeld as
vanguard, in good strength, a little way behind or westward of that
Town and Stream; Nassau and his Division are screened in the Wood
called Nonnenbusch (NUN'S BUSH), and there are outposts sprinkled
all about, and vedettes watching from the hill-tops, from the
Stanowitz Foxhill; the Zedlitz "Cowhill," "Winchill:" an Army not
courting observation, but intent very much to observe. Nadasti has
appeared again; at Freyburg, few miles off, on this side of the
Mountains; goes out scouting, reconnoitring; but is "fired at from
the growing corn," and otherwise hoodwinked by false symptoms, and
makes little of that business. Friedrich's Army we will compute at
70,000. [General-Lieutenant Freiherr Leo von Lutzow, <italic> Die
Schlacht von Hohenfriedbeg <end italic> (Potsdam, 1845), pp. 18,
21.] Not quite equal in number to Prince Karl's; and, in other
particulars, willing and longing that Prince Karl would arrive, and
try its quality.

Friedrich's head-quarter is at Jauernik: he goes daily riding
hither, thither; to the top of the Fuchsberg (FOXHILL at Stanowitz)
with eager spy-glass; daily many times looks with his spy-glass to
the ragged peaks about Bolkenhayn, Kauder, Rohnstock; expecting the
throw of the dice from that part. On Thursday, 3d June: Do you
notice that cloud of dust rising among the peaks over yonder?
Dust-cloud mounting higher and higher. There comes the big crisis,
then! There are the combined Weissenfels and Karl with their
Austrian Saxons, issuing proudly from their stone labyrinth;
guns, equipments, baggages, all perfectly brought through; rich
Silesian plain country now fairly at their feet, Breslau itself but
a few marches off:--at sight of all which, the Austrian big host
bursts forth into universal field-music, and shakes out its banners
to the wind. Thursday, 3d June, 1745; a dramatic Entry of something
quite considerable on the Stage of History.

Friedrich, with Nassau and generals round, stands upon the
Fuchsberg,--his remarks not given, his looks or emotions not
described to us, his thought well known,--and looks at it through
his TUBUS (or spy-glass): There they are, then, and the big moment
is come! Friedrich had seen the dust and the manoeuvring of them,
deeper in the Hills, from this same Fuchsberg yesterday, and
inferred what was coming; calculated by what roads or hill-tracks
they could issue: and how he, in each case, was to deal with them;
his march-routes are all settled, plank-bridges repaired, all
privately is ready for these proud Austrian musical gentlemen, here
in the hollow. Friedrich has been upon this Fuchsberg with his
TUBUS daily, many times since Monday last: it is our general
observatorium, says Stille, and commands a fine view into the
interior of these Hills. A Fuchsberg which has become notable in
the Prussian maps: "the Stanowitz Fuchsberg," east side of Striegau
Water,--let no tourist mistake himself; for there are two or even
three other Fuchsbergs, a mile or so northward on the western side
of that Stream, which need to be distinguished by epithets, as the
Striegau Fuchsberg, the Graben Fuchsberg, and perhaps still others:
comparable to the FOUR Neisse rivers, three besides the one we
know, which occur in this piece of Country! Our German cousins, I
have often sorrowed to find, have practically a most poor talent
for GIVING NAMES; and indeed much, for ages back, is lying in a sad
state of confusion among them. Many confused things, rotting far
and wide, in contradiction to the plainest laws of Nature;
things as well as names! All the welcomer this Prussian Army, this
young Friedrich leading it; they, beyond all earthly entities of
their epoch, are not in a state of confusion, but of most strict
conformity to the laws of Arithmetic and facts of Nature: perhaps a
very blessed phenomenon for Germany in the long-run.

Prince Karl with Weissenfels, General Berlichingen and many plumed
dignitaries, are dining on the Hill-top near Hohenfriedberg:
after having given order about everything, they witness there, over
their wine, the issue of their Columns from the Mountains;
which goes on all afternoon, with field-music, spread banners;
and the oldest General admits he never saw a finer review-
manoeuvre, or one better done, if so well. Thus sit they on the
Hill-top (GALGENBERG, not far from the gallows of the place, says
Friedrich), in the beautiful June afternoon. Silesia lying
beautifully azure at their feet; the Zobtenberg, enchanted
Mountain, blue and high on one's eastern horizon;
Prussians noticeable only in weak hussar parties four or five miles
off, which vanish in the hollow grounds again. All intending for
Breslau, they, it is like;--and here, red wine and the excellent
manoeuvre going on. "The Austrian-and-Saxon Army streamed out all
afternoon," says a Country Schoolmaster of those parts, whose
Day-book has been preserved, [In Lutzow, pp. 123-132.] "each
regiment or division taking the place appointed it; all afternoon,
till late in the night, submerging the Country as in a deluge,"
five miles long of them; taking post at the foot of the Hills
there, from Hohenfriedberg round upon Striegau, looking towards the
morrow's sunrise. To us poor country-folk not a beautiful sight;
their light troops flying ahead, and doing theft and other mischief
at a sad rate.

On the other hand, the Austrian and Saxon gentlemen, from their
Gallows-Hill at Hohenfriedberg, notice, four or five miles in the
distance, opposite them, or a little to the left of opposite, a
Body of Prussian horse and foot, visibly wending northward; like a
long glittering serpent, the glitter of their muskets flashing back
yonder on the afternoon sun and us, as they mount from hollow to
height. Ten or twelve thousand of them; making for Striegau, to
appearance. Intending to bivouac or billet there, and keep some
kind of watch over us; belike with an eye to being rear-guard, on
the retreat towards Breslau to-morrow? Or will they retreat without
attempting mischief? Serenity of Weissenfels engages to seize the
heights and proper posts, over yonder, this night yet; and will
take Striegau itself, the first thing, to-morrow morning.

Yes, your Serenities, those are Prussians in movement: Vanguard
Corps of Dumoulin, Winterfeld;--Rittmeister Seydlitz rides yonder:
--and it is not their notion to retreat without mischief. For there
stands, not so far off, on the Stanowitz Fuchsberg, a brisk little
Gentleman, if you could notice him; with his eyes fixed on you, and
plans in the head of him now getting nearly mature. For certain, he
is pushing out that column of men; and all manner of other columns
are getting order to push out, and take their ground; and to-morrow
morning--you will not find him in retreat! Such are the phenomena
in that Striegau-Hohenfriedberg region, while the sun is bending
westward, on Thursday, 3d June, 1745.

"From Hohenfriedberg, which leans against the higher Mountains,
there may be, across to Striegau northeast, which stands well apart
from them, among lower Hills of its own, a distance of about five
English miles. The intervening country is of flat, though upland
nature: the first broad stage, or STAIR-STEP, so to speak, leading
down into the general interior levels of Silesia in those parts.
A tract which is now tolerably dried by draining, but was then
marshy as well as bushy:--flat to the eye, yet must be
imperceptibly convexed a little, for the line of watershed is
hereabouts: walk from Hohenfriedberg to Striegau, the water on your
left hand flows, though mainly in ditches or imperceptible oozings,
to the north and west,--there to fall into an eastern fork of the
Roaring Neisse [one of our three new Neisses, which is a very quiet
stream here; runs close by the Mountain base, fed by many torrents,
and must get its name, WUTHENDE or Roaring, from the suddenness of
its floods]: into this, bound northward and westward, run or ooze
all waters on your left hand, as you go to Striegau. Right hand,
again, or to eastward, you will find all sauntering, or running in
visible brooks into Striegau Water [little River notable to us],
which comes circling from the Mountains, past Hohenfriedberg,
farther south; and has got to some force as a stream before it
reaches Striegau, and turns abruptly eastward;--eastward, to join
Schweidnitz Water, and form with it the SECOND stair-step downwards
to the Plain Country. Has its Fuchsbergs, Kuhbergs and little
knolls and heights interspersed, on both sides of it, in the
conceivable way.

"So that, looking eastward from the heights of Hohenfriedberg, our
broad stage or stair-step has nothing of the nature of a valley,
but rather is a kind of insensibly swelling plain between two
valleys, or hollows, of small depth; and slopes both ways.
Both ways; but MORE towards the Striegau-Water valley or hollow;
and thence, in a lazily undulating manner, to other hollows and
waters farther down. Friedrich's Camp lies in the next, the
Schweidnitz-Water hollow; and is five, or even nine miles long,
from Schweidnitz northward;--much hidden from the Austrian-Saxon
gentlemen at present. No hills farther, mere flat country, to
eastward of that. But to the north, again, about Striegau, the
hollow deepens, narrows; and certain Hills," much notable at
present, "rise to west of Striegau, definite peaked Hills, with
granite quarries in them and basalt blocks atop:--Striegau, it
appears, is, in old Czech dialect, TRZIZA, which means TRIPLE HILL,
the 'Town of the Three Hills.' [Lutzow, p. 28.] An ancient quaint
little Town, of perhaps 2,000 souls: brown-gray, the stones of it
venerably weathered; has its wide big market-place, piazza, plain-
stones, silent enough except on market-days: nestles itself
compactly in the shelter of its Three Hills, which screen it from
the northwest; and has a picturesque appearance, its Hills and it,
projected against the big Mountain range beyond, as you approach it
from the Plain Country.

"Hohenfriedberg, at the other corner of our battle-stage, on the
road to Landshut, is a Village of no great compass; but sticks
pleasantly together, does not straggle in the usual way;
climbs steep against its Gallows-Hill (now called 'SIEGESBERG,
Victory Hill,' with some tower or steeple-monument on it, built by
subscription); and would look better, if trimmed a little and
habitually well swept. The higher Mountain summits, Landshut way,
or still more if you look southeastward, Glatz-ward, rise blue and
huge, remote on your right; to left, the Roaring Neisse range close
at hand, is also picturesque, though less Alpine in type."
[Tourist's Note (1858).] ... And of all Hills, the notablest, just
now to us, are those "Three" at Striegau.

Those Three Hills of Striegau his Serenity of Weissenfels is to lay
hold of, this night, with his extreme left, were it once got
deployed and bivouacked. Those Hills, if he can: but Prussian
Dumoulin is already on march thither; and privately has his eye
upon them, on Friedrich's part!--For the rest, this upland
platform, insensibly sloping two ways, and as yet undrained, is of
scraggy boggy nature in many places; much of it damp ground, or
sheer morass; better parts of it covered, at this season, with rank
June grass, or greener luxuriance of oats and barley. A humble
peaceable scene; peaceable till this afternoon; dotted, too, with
six or seven poor Hamlets, with scraggy woods, where they have
their fuel; most sleepy littery ploughman Hamlets, sometimes with a
SCHLOSS or Mansion for the owner of the soil (who has absconded in
the present crisis of things), their evening smoke rising rather
fainter than usual; much cookery is not advisable with Uhlans and
Tolpatchcs flying about. Northward between Striegau and the higher
Mountains there is an extensive TEICHWIRTHSCHAFT, or "Pond-
Husbandry" (gleaming visible from Hohenfriedberg Gallows-Hill just
now); a combination of stagnant pools and carp-ponds, the ground
much occupied hereabouts with what they name Carp-Husbandry.
Which is all drained away in our time, yet traceable by the
studious:--quaggy congeries of sluices and fish-ponds, no road
through them except on intricate dams; have scrubby thickets about
the border;--this also is very strong ground, if Weissenfels
thought of defence there.

Which Weissenfels does not, but only of attack. He occupies the
ground nevertheless, rearward of this Carp-Husbandry, as becomes a
strategic man; gradually bivouacking all round there, to end on the
Three Hills, were his last regiments got up. The Carp-Husbandry is
mainly about Eisdorf Hamlet:--in Pilgramshayn, where Weissenfels
once thought of lodging, lives our Writing Schoolmaster.
The Mountains lie to westward; flinging longer shadows, as the
invasive troops continually deploy, in that beautiful manner;
and coil themselves strategically on the ground, a bent rope,
cordon, or line (THREE lines in depth), reaching from the front
skirts of Hohenfriedberg to the Hills at Striegau again,--terrible
to behold.

In front of Hohenfriedberg, we say, is the extremity or right wing
of the Austrian-Saxon bivouac, or will be when the process is
complete; five miles to northeast, sweeping round upon Striegau
region, will be their left, where mainly are the Saxons,--to nestle
upon those Three Hills of Striegau: whitherward however, Dumoulin,
on Friedrich's behalf, is already on march. Austrian-Saxon bivouac,
as is the way in regulated hosts, can at once become Austrian-Saxon
order-of-battle: and then, probably, on the Chord of that Arc of
five miles, the big Fight will roll to-morrow; Striegau one end of
it, Hohenfriedbcrg the other. Flattish, somewhat elliptic upland,
stair-step from the Mountains, as we called it; tract considerably
cut with ditches, carp-husbandries, and their tufts of wood;
line from Striegau to Hohenfriedberg being axis or main diameter of
it, and in general the line of watershed: there, probably, will the
tug of war be. Friedrich, on his Fuchsberg, knows this;
the Austrian-Saxon gentlemen, over their wine on the Gallows-Hill,
do not yet know it, but will know.

It was about four in the afternoon, when Valori, with a companion,
waiting a good while in the King's Tent at Jauernik, at last saw
his Majesty return from the Fuchsberg observatory. Valori and
friend have great news: "Tournay fallen; siege done, your Majesty!"
Valori's friend is one De Latour; who had brought word of Fontenoy
("important victory on the Scamander," as Friedrich indignantly
defined it to himself); and was bid wait here till this Siege-of-
Tournay consummation ("as helpful to me as the Siege of Pekin!")
should supervene. They hasten to salute his Majesty with the
glorious tidings, Hmph! thinks Friedrich: and we are at death-grips
here, little to be helped by your taking Pekin! However, he lets
wit of nothing. "I make my compliments; mean to fight to-morrow."
[Valori, i. 228.] Valori, as old soldier and friend, volunteers to
be there and assist:--Good.

Friedrich, I presume, at this late hour of four, may bc snatching a
morsel of dinner; his orderlies are silently speeding, plans taken,
orders given: To start all, at eight in the evening, for the Bridge
of Striegau; there to cross, and spread to the right and to the
left. Silent, not a word spoken, not a pipe lighted: silently
across the Striegau Water there. A march of three miles for the
nearest, who are here at Jauernik; of nine miles for the farthest
about Schweidnitz; at Schweidnitz leave all your baggage, safe
under the guns there. To the Bridge of Striegau, diligently,
silently march along; Bridge of Striegau, there cross Striegau
Water, and deploy to right and to left, in the way each of you
knows. These are Friedrich's orders.

Late in the dusk, Dumoulin and Winterfeld, whom we saw silently on
march some hours ago, have silently glided past Striegau, and got
into the Three-Hill region, which is some furlong or so farther
north:--to his surprise, Dumoulin finds Saxon parties posting
themselves thereabouts. He attacks said Saxon parties; and after
some slight tussle, drives them mostly from their Three Hills;
mostly, not altogether; one Saxon Hill is precipitous on our hither
side of it, and we must leave that till the dawn break. Of the
other Heights Dumoulin takes good possession, with cannon too, to
be ready against dawn;--and ranks himself out to leftward withal,
along the plain ground; for he is to be right wing, had the other
troops come up. These are now all under way; astir from Jauernik
and Schweidnitz, silently streaming along; and Dumoulin bivouacs
here,--very silent he: not so silent the Saxons; who are still
marching in, over yonder, to westward of Dumoulin, their rear-guard
groping out its posts as it best can in the dark. Elsewhere, miles
and miles along the foot of the Mountains, Austrian-Saxon watch-
fires flame through the ambrosial night; and it is an impressive
sight for Dumoulin,--still more for the poor Schoolmaster at
Pilgramshayn and others, less concerned than Dumoulin. "It was
beautiful," says Stille, who was there, "to see how the plain about
Rohnstock, and all over that way, was ablaze with thousands of
watch-fires (TAUSEND UND ABER TAUSEND); by the light of these, we
could clearly perceive the enemy's troops continually defile from
the Hills the whole night through." [Cited in Seyfarth, i. 630.]

Serenity of Weissenfels, after all, does not lodge at Pilgramshayn; far in the night, he goes to sleep at Rohnstock, a Schloss and
Hamlet on that fork of Roaring Neisse, by the foot of the
Mountains; three or four miles off, yet handy enough for picking up
Striegau the first thing to-morrow. His Highness Prince Karl lies
in Hausdorf, tolerable quarters, pretty much in the centre of his
long bivouac; day's business well done, and bottle (as one's wont
rather is) well enjoyed. Nadasti has been out scouting; but was
pricked into by hussar parties, fired into from the growing corn;
and could make out little, but the image of his own ideas.
Nadasti's ultimate report is, That the Prussians are perfectly
quiet in their camp; from Jauernik to Schweidnitz, watch-fires all
alight, sentries going their rounds. And so they are, in fact;
sentries and watch-fires,--but now nothing else there, a mere shell
of a camp; the men of it streaming steadily along, without speech,
without tobacco; and many of them are across Striegau Bridge by
this time!--

It was past eleven, so close and continuous went this march, before
Valori and his Latour, with their carriages and furnitures, could
find an interval, and get well into it. Never will Valori forget
the discipline of these Prussians, and how they marched.
Difficult ways; the hard road is for their artillery; the men march
on each side, sometimes to mid-leg in water,--never mind. Wholly in
order, wholly silent; Valori followed them three leagues close, and
there was not one straggler. Every private man, much more every
officer, knows well what grim errand they are on; and they make no
remarks. Steady as Time; and, except that their shoes are not of
felt, silent as he. The Austrian watch-fires glow silent manifold
to leftward yonder; silent overhead are the stars:--the path of all
duty, too, is silent (not about Striegau alone) for every well-
drilled man. To-morrow;--well, to-morrow?

A grimmish feeling against the Saxons is understood to be prevalent
among these men. Bruhl, Weissenfels himself, have been reported
talking high,--"Reduce our King to the size of an Elector again,"
and other foolish things;--indeed, grudges have been accumulating
for some time. "KEIN PARDON (No quarter)!" we hear has been a word
among the Saxons, as they came along; the Prussians growl to one
another, "Very well then, None!" Nay Friedrich's general order is,
"No prisoners, you cavalry, in the heat of fight; cavalry, strike
at the faces of them: you infantry, keep your fire till within
fifty steps; bayonet withal is to be relied on." These were
Friedrich's last general orders, given in the hollow of the night,
near the foot of that Fuchsberg where he had been so busy all day;
a widish plain space hereabouts, Striegau Bridge now near: he had
lain snme time in his cloak, waiting till the chief generals, with
the heads of their columns, could rendezvous here. He then sprang
on horseback; spoke briefly the essential things (one of them the
above);--"Had meant to be more minute, in regard to positions and
the like; but all is so in darkness, embroiled by the flare of the
Austrian watch-fires, we can make nothing farther of localities at
present: Striegau for right wing, left wing opposite to
Hohenfriedberg,--so, and Striegau Water well to rear of us.
Be diligent, exact, all faculties awake: your own sense, and the
Order of Battle which you know, must do the rest. Forward; steady:
can I doubt but you will acquit yourselves like Prussian men?"
And so they march, across the Bridge at Striegau, south outskirt of
the Town,--plank Bridge, I am afraid;--and pour themselves, to
right and to left, continually the livelong night.

To describe the Battle which ensued, Battle named of Striegau or
Hohenfriedberg, excels the power of human talent,--if human talent
had leisure for such employment. It is the huge shock and clash of
70,000 against 70,000, placed in the way we said. An enormous
furious SIMALTAS (or "both-at-once," as the Latins phrase it),
spreading over ten square miles. Rather say, a wide congeries of
electric simultaneities; all ELECTRIC, playing madly into one
another; most loud, most mad: the aspect of which is smoky,
thunderous, abstruse; the true SEQUENCES of which, who shall
unravel? There are five accounts of it, all modestly written, each
true-looking from its own place: and a thrice-diligent Prussian
Officer, stationed on the spot in late years, has striven well to
harmonize them all. [Five Accounts: 1. The Prussian Official
Account, in <italic> Helden-Geschichte,<end italic>  i. 1098-1102.
2. The Saxon, ib. 1103-1108. 3. The Austrian, ib. 1109-1115.
4. Stille's (ii. 125-133, of English Translation). 5. Friedrich's
own, <italic> OEuvres, <end italic> iii. 108-118. Lutzow, above
cited, is the harmonizer. Besides which, two of value, in <italic>
Feldzuge, <end italic> i. 310-323, 328-336; not to mention
Cogniazzo, <italic> Confessions of an Austrian Veeran <end italic>
(Breslau, 1788-1791: strictly Anonymous at that time, and candid,
or almost more, to Prussian merit;--still worth reading, here and
throughout), ii. 123-135; &c. &c.] Well worth the study of military
men;--who might make tours towards this and the other great battle-
field, and read such things, were they wise. For us, a feature or
two, in the huge general explosion, to assist the reader's fancy in
conceiving it a little, is all that can be pretended to.

                           Chapter X.

                    BATTLE OF HOHENFRIEDBERG.

With the first streak of dawn, the dispute renewed itself between
those Prussians and Saxons who are on the Heights of Striegau.
The two Armies are in contact here; they lie wide apart as yet at
the other end. Cannonading rises here, on both sides, in the dim
gray of the morning, for the possession of these Heights.
The Saxons are out-cannonaded and dislodged, other Saxons start to
arms in support: the cry "To arms!" spreads everywhere, rouses
Weissenfels to horseback; and by sunrise a furious storm of battle
has begun, in this part. Hot and fierce on both sides; charges of
horse, shock after shock, bayonet-charges of foot; the great guns
going like Jove's thunder, and the continuous tearing storm of
small guns, very loud indeed: such a noise, as our poor
Schoolmaster, who lives on this spot, thinks he will hear only once
again, when the Last Trumpet sounds! It did indeed, he informs us,
resemble the dissolution of Nature: "For all fell dark too;"
a general element of sulphurous powder-smoke, streaked with dull
blazes; and death and destruction very nigh. What will become of
poor pacific mortals hereabouts? Rittmeister Seydlitz, Winterfeld
his patron ride, with knit brows, in these horse-charges;
fiery Rothenburg too; Truchsess von Waldburg, at the head of his
Division,--poor Truchsess known in London society, a cannon-ball
smites the life out of him, and he ended here.

At the first clash of horse and foot, the Saxons fancied they
rather had it; at the second, their horse became distressed; at the
third, they rolled into disorderly heaps. The foot also, stubborn
as they were, could not stand that swift firing, followed by the
bayonet and the sabre; and were forced to give ground. The morning
sun shone into their eyes, too, they say; and there had risen a
breath of easterly wind, which hurled the smoke upon them, so that
they could not see. Decidedly staggering backwards; getting to be
taken in flank and ruined, though poor Weissenfels does his best.
About five in the morning, Friedrich came galloping hitherward;
Valori with him: "MON AMI, this is looking well! This will do,
won't it?" The Saxons are fast sinking in the scale; and did
nothing thenceforth but sink ever faster; though they made a stiff
defence, fierce exasperation on both sides; and disputed every
inch. Their position, in these scraggy Woods and Villages, in these
Morasses and Carp-Husbandries, is very strong.

It had proved to be farther north, too, than was expected; so that
the Prussians had to wheel round a little (right wing as a centre,
fighting army as radius) before they could come parallel, and get
to work: a delicate manoeuvre, which they executed to Valori's
admiration, here in the storm of battle; tramp, tramp, velocity
increasing from your centre outwards, till at the end of the
radius, the troops are at treble-quick, fairly running forward, and
the line straight all the while. Admirable to Valori, in the hot
whirlwind of battle here. For the great guns go, in horrid salvos,
unabated, and the crackling thunder of the small guns; "terrible
tussling about those Carp-ponds, that quaggy Carp-husbandry," says
the Schoolmaster, "and the Heavens blotted out in sulphurous fire-
streaked smoke. What had become of us pacific? Some had run in
time, and they were the wisest; others had squatted, who could find
a nook suitable. Most of us had gathered into the Nursery-garden at
the foot of our Village; we sat quaking there,--our prayers grown
tremulously vocal;--in tears and wail, at least the women part.
Enemies made reconcilement with each other," says he, "and dear
friends took farewell." [His Narrative, in Lutzow, UBI SUPRA.]
One general Alleleu; the Last Day, to all appearance, having come.
Friedrich, seeing things in this good posture, gallops to the left
again, where much urgently requires attention from him.

On the Austrian side, Prince Karl, through his morning sleep at
Hausdorf, had heard the cannonading: "Saxons taking Striegau!"
thinks he; a pleasant lullaby enough; and continues to sleep and
dream. Agitated messengers rush in, at last; draw his curtains:
"Prussians all in rank, this side Striegau Water; Saxons beaten, or
nearly so, at Striegau: we must stand to arms, your Highness!"--
"To arms, of course," answers Karl; and hurries now, what he can,
to get everything in motion. The bivouac itself had been in order
of battle; but naturally there is much to adjust, to put in trim;
and the Austrians are not distinguished for celerity of movement.
All the worse for them just now.

On Friedrich's side, so far as I can gather, there have happened
two cross accidents. First, by that wheeling movement, done to
Valori's admiration in the Striegau quarter, the Prussian line has
hitched itself up towards Striegau, has got curved inward, and
covers less ground than was counted on; so that there is like to be
some gap in the central part of;--as in fact there was, in spite of
Friedrich's efforts, and hitchings of battalions and squadrons:
an indisputable gap, though it turned to rich profit for Friedrich;
Prince Karl paying no attention to it. Upon such indisputable gap a
wakeful enemy might have done Friedrich some perilous freak;
but Karl was in his bed, as we say;--in a terrible flurry, too,
when out of bed. Nothing was done upon the gap; and Friedrich had
his unexpected profit by it before long.

The second accident is almost worse. Striegau Bridge (of planks, as
I feared), creaking under such a heavy stream of feet aud wheels
all night, did at last break, in some degree, and needed to be
mended; so that the rearward regiments, who are to form Friedrich's
left wing, are in painful retard;--and are becoming frightfully
necessary, the Austrians as yet far outflanking us, capable of
taking us in flank with that right wing of theirs! The moment was
agitating to a General-in-chief: Valori will own this young King's
bearing was perfect; not the least flurry, though under such a
strain. He has aides-de-camp, dashing out every-whither with
orders, with expedients; Prince Henri, his younger Brother:
galloping the fastest; nay, at last, he begs Valori himself to
gallop, with orders to a certain General Gessler, in whose Brigade
are Dragoons. Which Valori does,--happily without effect on
Gessler; who knows no Valori for an aide-de-camp, and keeps the
ground appointed him; rearward of that gap we talked of.

Happily the Austrian right wing is in no haste to charge.
Happily Ziethen, blocked by that incumbrance of the Bridge mending,
"finds a ford higher up," the assiduous Ziethen; splashes across,
other regiments following; forms in line well leftward; and instead
of waiting for the Austrian charge, charges home upon them,
fiercely through the difficult grounds, No danger of the Austrians
outflanking us now; they are themselves likely to get hard measure
on their flank. By the ford and by the Bridge, all regiments, some
of them at treble-quick, get to their posts still in time.
Accident second has passed without damage. Forward, then;
rapid, steady; and reserve your fire till within fifty paces!--
Prinoe Ferdinand of Brunswick (Friedrich's Brother-in-law, a
bright-eyed steady young man, of great heart for fight) tramps
forth with his Division:--steady!--all manner of Divisions tramp
forth; and the hot storm, Ziethen and cavalry dashing upon that
right wing of theirs, kindles here also far and wide.

The Austrian cavalry on this wing and elsewhere, it is clear, were
ill off. "We could not charge the Prussian left wing, say they,
partly because of the morasses that lay between us; and partly
[which is remarkable] because they rushed across and charged us."
[Austrian report, <italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end italic>
i. 1113.] Prince Karl is sorry to report such things of his
cavalry; but their behavior was bad and not good. The first shock
threw them wavering; the second,--nothing would persuade them to
dash forth and meet it. High officers commanded, obtested, drew out
pistols, Prince Karl himself shot a fugitive or two,--it was to no
purpose; they wavered worse at every new shock; and at length a
shock came (sixth it was, as the reporter counts) which shook them
all into the wind. Decidedly shy of the Prussians with their new
manoeuvres, and terrible way of coming on, as if sure of beating.
In the Saxon quarter, certain Austrian regiments of horse would not
charge at all; merely kept firing from their carbines, and when the
time came ran.

As for the Saxons, they have been beaten these two hours; that is
to say, hopeless these two hours, and getting beaten worse and
worse. The Saxons cannot stand, but neither generally will they
run; they dispute every ditch, morass and tuft of wood, especially
every village. Wrecks of the muddy desperate business last, hour
after hour. "I gave my men a little rest under the garden walls,"
says one Saxon Gentleman, "or they would have died, in the heat and
thirst and extreme fatigue: I would have given 100 gulden
[10 pounds Sterling] for a glass of water." [<italic> Helden-
Geschichte, <end italic> ubi supra.] The Prussians push them on,
bayonet in back; inexorable, not to be resisted; slit off whole
battalions of them (prisoners now, and quarter given); take all
their guns, or all that are not sunk in the quagmires;--in fine,
drive them, part into the Mountains direct, part by circuit
thither, down upon the rear of the Austrian fight: through
Hausdorf, Seifersdorf and other Mountain gorges, where we hear no
more of them, and shall say no more of them. A sore stroke for poor
old Weissenfels; the last public one he has to take, in this world,
for the poor man died before long. Nobody's blame, he says;
every Saxon man did well; only some Austrian horse-regiments, that
we had among us, were too shy. Adieu to poor old Weissenfels.
Luck of war, what else,--thereby is he in this pass.

And now new Prussian force, its Saxons being well abolished, is
pressing down upon Prince Karl's naked left flank. Yes;--Prince
Karl too will have to go. His cavalry is, for most part, shaken
into ragged clouds; infantry, steady enough men, cannot stand
everything. "I have observed," says Friedrich, "if you step sharply
up to an Austrian battalion [within fifty paces or so], and pour in
your fire well, in about a quarter of an hour you see the ranks
beginning to shake, and jumble towards indistinctness;"
[<italic> Military Instructions. <end italic>] a very hopeful
symptom to you!

It was at this moment that Lieutenant-General Gessler, under whom
is the Dragoon regiment Baireuth, who had kept his place in spite
of Valori's message, determined on a thing,--advised to it by
General Schmettau (younger Schmettau), who was near. Gessler, as we
saw, stood in the rear line, behind that gap (most likely one of
several gaps, or wide spaces, left too wide, as we explained);
Gessler, noticing the jumbly condition of those Austrian
battalions, heaped now one upon another in this part,--motions to
the Prussian Infantry to make what farther room is needful;
then dashes through, in two columns (self and the Dragoon-Colonel
heading the one, French Chasot, who is Lieutenant-Colonel, heading
the other), sabre in hand, with extraordinary impetus and fire,
into the belly of these jumbly Austrians; and slashes them to rags,
"twenty battalions of them," in an altogether unexampled manner.
Takes "several thousand prisoners," and such a haul of standards,
kettle-drums and insignia of honor, as was never got before at one
charge. Sixty-seven standards by the tale, for the regiment (by
most All-Gracious Permission) wears, ever after, "67" upon its
cartridge-box, and is allowed to beat the grenadier march;
[Orlich, ii. 179 (173 n., 179 n., slightly wrong); <italic>
Militair-Lexikon, <end italic> ii. 9, iv. 465, 468. See Preuss,
i. 212; <italic> OEuvres de Frederic; <end italic> &c. &c.]--how
many kettle-drums memory does not say.

Prince Karl beats retreat, about 8 in the morning; is through
Hohenfriedberg about 10 (cannon covering there, and Nadasti as
rear-guard): back into the Mountains; a thoroughly well-beaten man.
Towards Bolkenhayn, the Saxons and he; their heavy artillery and
baggage had been left safe there. Not much pursued, and gradually
rearranging himself; with thoughts,--no want of thoughts!
Came pouring down, triumphantly invasive, yesterday; returns, on
these terms, in about fifteen hours. Not marching with displayed
banners and field-music, this time; this is a far other march.
The mouse-trap had been left open, and we rashly went in!--Prince
Karl's loss, including that of the Saxons (which is almost equal,
though their number in the field was but HALF), is 9,000 dead and
wounded, 7,000 prisoners, 66 cannon, 73 flags and standards;
the Prussian is about 5,000 dead and wounded. [In Orlich (ii. 182)
all the details.] Friedrich, at sight of Valori, embraces his GROS
VALORI; says, with a pious emotion in voice and look, "My friend,
God has helped me wonderfully this day!" Actually there was a kind
of devout feeling visible in him, thinks Valori: "A singular
mixture, this Prince, of good qualities and of bad; I never know
which preponderates." [Valori, SOEPIUS.] As is the way with fat
Valoris, when they come into such company.

Friedrich is blamed by some military men, and perhaps himself
thought it questionable, that he did not pursue Prince Karl more
sharply. He says his troops could not; they were worn out with the
night's marching and the day's fighting. He himself may well be
worn out. I suppose, for the last four-and-twenty hours he, of all
the contemporary sons of Adam, has probably been the busiest.
Let us rest this day; rest till to-morrow morning, and be thankful.
"So decisive a defeat," writes he to his Mother (hastily, misdating
"6th" June for 4th), "has not been since Blenheim" [Letter in
<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xxvi. 71.] (which is
tolerably true); and "I have made the Princes sign their names," to
give the good Mother assurance of her children in these perils of
war. Seldom has such a deliverance come to a man.

                           Chapter XI.


Friedrich marched, on the morrow, likewise to Bolkenhayn; which the
enemy have just left; our hussars hanging on their rear, and
bickering with Nadasti. Then again on the morrow, Sunday,--"twelve
hours of continuous rain," writes Valori; but there is no down-
pour, or distress, or disturbance that will shake these men from
their ranks, writes Valori. And so it goes on, march after march,
the Austrians ahead, Dumoulin and our hussars infesting their rear,
which skilfully defended itself: through Landshut down into
Bohemia; where are new successive marches, the Prussian
quarterstaff stuck into the back of defeated Austria, "Home with
you; farther home!"--and shogging it on,--without pause, for about
a fortnight to come. And then only with temporary pause; that is to
say, with intricate manoeuvrings of a month long, which shove it to
Konigsgratz, its ultimatum, beyond which there is no getting it.
The stages and successive campings, to be found punctually in the
old Books and new, can interest only military readers. Here is a
small theological thing at Landshut, from first hand:--

JUNE 8th, 1745. "The Army followed Dumoulin's Corps, and marched
upon Landshut. On arriving in that neighborhood, the King was
surrounded by a troop of 2,000 Peasants,"--of Protestant persuasion
very evidently! (which is much the prevailing thereabouts),--"who
begged permission of him 'to massacre the Catholics of these parts,
and clear the country of them altogether.' This animosity arose
from the persecutions which the Protestants had suffered during the
Austrian domination, when their churches used to be taken from them
and given to the Popish priests,"--churches and almost their
children, such was the anxiety to make them orthodox. The patience
of these peasants had run over; and now, in the hour of hope, they
proposed the above sweeping measure. "The King was very far from
granting them so barbarous a permission. He told them, 'They ought
rather to conform to the Scripture precept, to bless those that
cursed them, and pray for those that despitefully used them;
such was the way to gain the Kingdom of Heaven.' The peasants,"
rolling dubious eyes for a moment, "answered, His Majesty was
right; and desisted from their cruel pretension." [<italic> OEuvres
de Frederic, <end italic> ii.218.] ...--"On Hohenfriedberg Day,"
says another Witness, "as far as the sound of the cannon was heard,
all round, the Protestants fell on their knees, praying for victory
to the Prussians;" [In Ranke, iii. 259.] and at Breslau that
evening, when the "Thirteen trumpeting Postilions" came tearing in
with the news, what an enthusiasm without limit!

Prince Karl has skill in choosing camps and positions:
his Austrians are much cowed; that is the grievous loss in his late
fight. So, from June 8th, when they quit Silesia,--by two roads to
go more readily,--all through that month and the next, Friedrich
spread to the due width, duly pricking into the rear of them,
drives the beaten hosts onward and onward. They do not think of
fighting; their one thought is to get into positions where they can
have living conveyed to them, and cannot be attacked; for the
former of which objects, the farther homewards they go, it is the
better. The main pursuit, as I gather, goes leftward from Landshut,
by Friedland,--the Silesian Friedland, once Wallenstein's.
Through rough wild country, the southern slope of the Giant
Mountains, goes that slow pursuit, or the main stream of it, where
Friedrich in person is; intricate savage regions, cut by
precipitous rocks and soaking quagmires, shaggy with woods:
watershed between the Upper Elbe and Middle Oder; Glatz on our
left,--with the rain of its mountains gathering to a Neisse River,
eastward, which we know; and on their west or hither side, to a
Mietau, Adler, Aupa and other many-branched feeders of the Elbe.
Most complex military ground, the manoeuvrings on it endless,--
which must be left to the reader's fancy here.

About the end of June, Karl and his Austrians find a place suitable
to their objects: Konigsgratz, a compact little Town, in the nook
between the Elbe and Adler; covered to west and to south by these
two streams; strong enough to east withal; and sure and convenient
to the southern roads and victual. Against which Friedrich's
manoeuvres avail nothing; so that he at last (20th July) crosses
Elbe River; takes, he likewise, an inexpugnable Camp on the
opposite shore, at a Village called Chlum; and lies there, making a
mutual dead-lock of it, for six weeks or more. Of the prior Camps,
with their abundance of strategic shufflings, wheelings, pushings,
all issuing in this of Chlum, we say nothing: none of them,--
except the immediately preceding one, called of Nahorzan, called
also of Drewitz (for it was in parts a shifting entity, and flung
the LIMBS of it about, strategically clutching at Konigsgratz),--
had any permanency: let us take Chlum (the longest, and essentially
the last in those parts) as the general summary of them, and alone
rememberable by us. ["Camp of Gross-Parzitz [across the Mietau, to
dislodge Prince Karl from his shelter behind that stream], June
14th:" "Camp of Nahorzan, June 18th [and abstruse manoeuvrings, of
a month, for Konigsgratz]: 20th July," cross Elbe for Chlum;
and lie, yourself also inexpugnable, there. See <italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> (iii. 120 et seq.); especially see Orlich
(ii. pp. 193, 194, 203, &c. &c.),--with an amplitude of inorganic
details, sufficient to astonish the robustest memory!]

Friedrich's purposes, at Chlum or previously, are not towards
conquests in Bohemia, nor of fighting farther, if he can help it.
But, in the mean while, he is eating out these Bohemian vicinages;
no invasion of Silesia possible from that quarter soon again.
That is one benefit: and he hopes always his enemies, under screw
of military pressure with the one hand, and offer of the olive-
branch with the other, will be induced to grant him Peace.
Britannic Majesty, after Fontenoy and Hohenfriedberg, not to
mention the first rumors of a Jacobite Rebellion, with France to
rear of it, is getting eager to have Friedrich settled with, and
withdrawn from the game again;--the rather, as Friedrich, knowing
his man, has ceased latterly to urge him on the subject. Peace with
George the Purseholder, does not that mean Peace with all the
others? Friedrich knows the high Queen's indignation; but he little
guesses, at this time, the humor of Bruhl and the Polish Majesty.
He has never yet sent the Old Dessauer in upon them; always only
keeps him on the slip, at Magdeburg; still hoping actualities may
not be needed. He hopes too, in spite of her indignation, the
Hungarian Majesty, with an Election on hand, with the Netherlands
at such a pass, not to speak of Italy and the Middle Rhine, will
come to moderate views again. On which latter points, his reckoning
was far from correct! Within three months, Britannic Majesty and he
did get to explicit Agreement (CONVENTION OF HANOVER, 26th August):
but in regard to the Polish Majesty and the Hungarian there proved
to be no such result attainable, and quite other methods
necessary first!

"Of military transactions in this Camp of Chlum, or in all these
Bohemian-Silesian Camps, for near four months, there is nothing, or
as good as nothing: Chlum has no events; Chlum vigilantly guards
itself; and expects, as the really decisive to it, events that will
happen far away. We are to conceive this military business as a
dead-lock; attended with hussar skirmishes; attacks, defences, of
outposts, of provision-wagons from Moravia or Silesia:--Friedrich
has his food from Silesia chiefly, by several routes, 'convoys come
once in the five days.' His horse-provender he forages;
with Tolpatches watching him, and continual scufflings of fight:
'for hay and glory,' writes one Prussian Officer, 'I assure you we
fight well!' Endless enterprising, manoeuvring, counter-
manoeuvring there at first was; and still is, if either party stir:
but here, in their mutually fixed camps, tacit mutual observances
establish themselves; and amid the rigorous armed vigilantes, there
are traits of human neighborship. As usual in such cases.
The guard-parties do not fire on one another, within certain
limits: a signal that there are dead to bury, or the like, is
strictly respected. On one such occasion it was (June 30th, Camp-
of-Nahorzan time) that Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick--Prince
Ferdinand, with a young Brother Albert volunteering and learning
his business here, who are both Prussian--had a snatch of interview
with a third much-loved Brother, Ludwig, who is in the Austrian
service. A Prussian officer, venturing beyond the limits, had been
shot; Ferdinand's message, 'Grant us burial of him!' found, by
chance, Brother Ludwig in command of that Austrian outpost;
who answers: 'Surely;--and beg that I may embrace my Brothers!'
And they rode out, those three, to the space intermediate;
talked there for half an hour, till the burial was done.
[Mauvillon, <italic> Geschichte Ferdinands von Braunschweig-
Luneburg, i. 118.] Fancy such an interview between the poor young
fellows, the soul of honor each, and tied in that manner!

"Trenck of the Life-guard was not quite the soul of honor. It was
in the Nahorzan time too that Trenck, who had, in spite of express
order to the contrary, been writing to his Cousin the indigo
Pandour, was put under arrest when found out. 'Wrote merely about
horses: purchase of horses, so help me God!' protests the
blusterous Life-guardsman, loud as lungs will,--whether with truth
in them, nobody can say. 'Arrest for breaking orders!' answers
Friedrich, doubting or disbelieving the horses; and loud Trenck is
packed over the Hills to Glatz; to Governor Fouquet, or Substitute;
--where, by not submitting and repenting, by resisting and
rebelling, and ever again doing it, he makes out for himself, with
Fouquet and his other Governors, what kind of life we know!
DE SON ONCLE (Keep a tight hold of this fine fellow; he wanted to
become Pandour beside his Uncle)!' writes Friedrich:--'Uncle'
instead of 'Cousin,' all one to Friedrich. This he writes with his
own hand, on the margin: 28th June, 1745; the inexorable Records
fix that date. [Rodenbeck. iii. 381. Copy of the Warrant, once
PENES ME.] Which I should not mention, except for another
inexorable date (30th September), that is coming; and the
perceptible slight comfort there will be in fixing down a loud-
blustering, extensively fabulous blockhead, still fit for the
Nurseries, to one undeniable premeditated lie, and tar-marking him
therewith, for benefit of more serious readers." As shall be done,
were the 30th of September come!

Here is still something,--if it be not rather nothing, by a great
hand! Date uncertain; Camp-of-Chlum time, pretty far on: ...
"There are continual foragings, on both sides; with parties
mutually dashing out to hinder the same. The Prussians have a
detached post at Smirzitz; which is much harassed by Hungarians
lurking about, shooting our sentry and the like. An inventive head
contrives this expedient. Stuff a Prussian uniform with straw;
fix it up, by aid of ropes and check-strings, to stand with musket
shouldered, and even to glide about to right and left, on judicious
pulling. So it is done: straw man is made; set upon his ropes, when
the Tolpatches approach; and pensively saunters to and fro,--his
living comrades crouching in the bushes near by. Tolpatches fire on
the walking straw sentry; straw sentry falls flat; Tolpatches rush
in, esurient, triumphant; are exploded in a sharp blast of musketry
from the bushes all round, every wounded man made prisoner;--and
come no more back to that post." Friedrich himself records this
little fact: "slight pleasantry to relieve the reader's mind," says
he, in narrating it. [<italic> OEuvres, <end italic> iii. 123.]
--Enough of those small matters, while so many large are waiting.

June 26th, a month before Chlum, General Nassau had been detached,
with some 8 or 10,000, across Glatz Country, into Upper Silesia, to
sweep that clear again. Hautcharmoi, quitting the Frontier Towns,
has joined, raising him to 15,000; and Nassau is giving excellent
account of the multitudinous Pandour doggeries there; and will
retake Kosel, and have Upper Silesia swept before very long.
[Kosel, "September 5th:" Excellent, lucid and even entertaining
Account of Nassau's Expedition, in the form of DIARY (a model, of
its kind), in <italic> Feldzuge, <end italic> iv. 257, 371, 532.]
On the other hand, the Election matter (KAISERWAHL, a most
important point) is obviously in threatening, or even in desperate
state! That famed Middle-Rhine Army has gone to the--what shall
we say?

JULY 5th-19th, MIDDLE-RHINE COUNTRY. "The first Election-news that
reaches Friedrich is from the Middle-Rhine Country, and of very bad
complexion. Readers remember Traun, and his Bathyanis, and his
intentions upon Conti there. In the end of May, old Traun, things
being all completed in Bavaria, had got on march with his Bavarian
Army, say 40,000, to look into Prince Conti down in those parts;
a fact very interesting to the Prince. Traun held leftward,
westward, as if for the Neckar Valley,--'Perhaps intending to be
through upon Elsass, in those southern undefended portions of the
Rhine?' Conti, and his Segur, and Middle-Rhine Army stood
diligently on their guard; got their forces, defences, apparatuses,
hurried southward, from Frankfurt quarter where they lay on watch,
into those Neckar regions. Which seen to be done, Traun whirled
rapidly to rightward, to northward; crossed the Mayn at Wertheim,
wholly leaving the Neckar and its Conti; having weighty business
quite in the other direction,--on the north side of the Mayn,
namely; on the Kinzig River, where Bathyani (who has taken
D'Ahremberg's command below Frankfurt, and means to bestir himself
in another than the D'Ahremberg fashion) is to meet him on a set
day. Traun having thus, by strategic suction, pulled the Middle-
Rhine Army out of his and Bathyani's way, hopes they two will
manage a junction on the Kinzig; after junction they will be a
little stronger than Conti, though decidedly weaker taken one by
one. Traun, in the long June days, had such a march, through the
Spessart Forest (Mayn River to his left, with our old friends
Dettingen, Aschaffenburg, far down in the plain), as was hardly
ever known before: pathless wildernesses, rocky steeps and chasms;
the sweltering June sun sending down the upper snows upon him in
the form of muddy slush; so that 'the infantry had to wade haunch-
deep in many of the hollow parts, and nearly all the cavalry lost
its horse-shoes.' A strenuous march; and a well-schemed. For at the
Kinzig River (Conti still far off in the Neckar country), Bathyani
punctually appeared, on the opposite shore; and Traun and he took
camp together; July 5th, at Langen-Selbord (few miles north of
Hanau, which we know);--and rest there; calculating that Conti is
now a manageable quantity;--and comfortably wait till the Grand-
Duke arrives. [Adelung, iv. 421; v. 36.] For this is,
theoretically, HIS Army; Grand-Duke Franz being the Commander's
Cloak, this season; as Karl was last,--a right lucky Cloak he,
while Traun lurked under him, not so lucky since! July 13th, Franz
arrived; and Traun, under Franz, instantly went into Conti (now
again in those Frankfurt parts); clutched at Conti, Briareus-like,
in a multiform alarming manner: so that Conti lost head; took to
mere retreating, rushing about, burning bridges;--and in fine, July
19th, had flung himself bodily across the Rhine (clouds of
Tolpatches sticking to him), and left old Traun and his Grand-Duke
supreme lord in those parts. Who did NOT invade Elsass, as was now
expected; but lay at Heidelberg, intending to play pacifically a
surer card. All French are out of Teutschland again; and the
game given up. In what a premature and shameful manner!
thinks Friedrich.

"Nominally it was the Grand-Duke that flung Conti over the Rhine;
and delivered Teutschland from its plagues. After which fine feat,
salvatory to the Cause of Liberty, and destructive to French
influence, what is to prevent his election to the Kaisership?
Friedrich complains aloud: 'Conti has given it up; you drafted
15,000 from him (for imaginary uses in the Netherlands),--you have
given it up, then! Was that our bargain?' 'We have given it up,'
answers D'Argenson the War-minister, writing to Valori; 'but,'--
And supplies, instead of performance according to the laws of fact,
eloquent logic; very superfluous to Friedrich and the said laws!--
Valori, and the French Minister at Dresden, had again been trying
to stir up the Polish Majesty to stand for Kaiser; but of course
that enterprise, eager as the Polish Majesty might be for such a
dignity, had now to collapse, and become totally hopeless. A new
offer of Friedrich's to co-operate had been refused by Bruhl, with
a brevity, a decisiveness--'Thinks me finished (AUX ABOIS),' says
Friedrich; 'and not worth giving terms to, on surrendering!'
The foolish little creature; insolent in the wrong quarter!"
[<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 128.]

'The German Burden, then,--which surely was mutual, at lowest, and
lately was French altogether,--the French have thrown it off;
the French have dropped their end of the BEARING-POLES (so to
speak), and left Friedrich by himself, to stand or stagger, under
the beweltered broken harness-gear and intolerable weight! That is
one's payment for cutting the rope from their neck last year!--
Long since, while the present Campaign was being prepared for,
under such financial pressures, Friedrich had bethought him,
"The French might, at least give me money, if they can nothing
else?"--and he had one day penned a Letter with that object;
but had thrown it into his desk again, "No; not till the very last
extremity, that!" Friedrich did at last despatch the unpleasant
missive: "Service done you in Elsass, let us say little of it;
but the repayment has been zero hitherto: your Bavarian expenses
(poor Kaiser gone, and Peace of Fussen come!) are now ended:--
A round sum, say of 600,000 pounds, is becoming indispensable here,
if we are to keep on our feet at all!" Herr Ranke, who has seen the
Most Christian King's response (though in a capricious way), finds
"three or four successive redactions" of the difficult passage;
all painfully meaning, "Impossible, alas!"--painfully adding, "We
will try, however!" And, after due cunctations, Friedrich waiting
silent the while,--Louis, Most Christian King, who had failed in so
many things towards Friedrich, does empower Valori To offer him a
subsidy of 600,000 livres a month, till we see farther.
Twenty thousand pounds a month; he hopes this will suffice, being
himself run terribly low. Friedrich's feeling is to be guessed:
"Such a dole might answer to a Landgraf of Hessen-Darmstadt; but to
me is not in the least suitable;"--and flatly refuses it;
FIEREMENT, says Valori. [Ranke, iii. 235, 299 n. (not the least of
DATE allowed us in either case); Valori. i. 240.]

MON GROS VALORI, who could not himself help all this, poor soul,
"falls now into complete disgrace;" waits daily upon Friedrich at
the giving out of the parole, "but frequently his Majesty does not
speak to me at all." Hardly looks at me, or only looks as if I had
suddenly become Zero Incarnate. It is now in these days, I suppose,
that Friedrich writes about the "Scamander Battle" (of Fontenoy),
and "Capture of Pekin," by way of helping one to fight the
Austrians according to Treaty. And has a touch of bitter sarcasm in
uttering his complaints against, such treatment,--the heart of him,
I suppose, bitter enough. Most Christian King has felt this of the
Scamander, Friedrich perceives; Louis's next letter testifies
pique;--and of course we are farther from help, on that side, than
ever. "From the STANDE of the Kur-Mark [Brandenburg] Friedrich was
offered a considerable subsidy instead; and joyfully accepted the
same, 'as a loan:'"--paid it punctually back, too; and never, all
his days, forgot it of those STANDE. [Stenzel, iv. 255; Ranke, &c.]


About the middle of August, there are certain Saxon phenomena which
awaken dread expectation in the world. Friedrich, watching, Argus-
like, near and far, in his Chlum observatory, has noticed that
Prince Karl is getting reinforced in Konigsgratz; 10,000 lately,
7,000 more coming;--and contrariwise that the Saxons seem to be
straggling off from him; ebbing away, corps after corps,--towards
Saxony, can it be? There are whispers of "Bavarian auxiliaries"
being hired for them, too. And little Bruhl's late insolence;
Bruhl's evident belief that "we are finished (AUX ABOIS)"?
Putting all this together, Friedrich judges--with an indignation
very natural--that there is again some insidious Saxon mischief,
most likely an attack on Brandenburg, in the wind. Friedrich orders
the Old Dessauer, "March into them, delay no longer!" and publishes
a clangorously indignant Manifesto (evidently his own writing, and
coming from the heart): [In Adelung, v. 64-71 (no date; "middle of
August," say the Books).] "How they have, not bound by their
Austrian Treaty, wantonly invaded our Silesia; have, since and
before, in spite of our forbearance, done so many things:--and, in
fact, have finally exhausted our patience; and are forcing us to
seek redress and safety by the natural methods," which they will
see how they like!--

Old Leopold advances straightway, as bidden, direct for the Saxon
frontier. To whom Friedrich shoots off detachments,--Prince
Dietrich, with so many thousands, to reinforce Papa; then General
Gessler with so many,--till Papa is 30,000 odd; and could eat
Saxony at a mouthful; nothing whatever being yet ready there on
Bruhl's part, though he has such immense things in the wind!--
Nevertheless Friedrich again paused; did not yet strike. The Saxon
question has Russian bug-bears, no end of complications.
His Britannic Majesty, now at Hanover, and his prudent Harrington
with him, are in the act of laboring, with all earnestness, for a
general Agreement with Friedrich. Without farther bitterness,
embroilment and bloodshed: how much preferable for Friedrich!
Old Dessauer, therefore, pauses: "Camp of Dieskau," which we have
often heard of, close on the Saxon Border; stands there, looking
over, as with sword drawn, 30,000 good swords,--but no stroke, not
for almost three months more. In three months, wretched Bruhl had
not repented; but, on the contrary, had completed his preparations,
and gone to work;--and the stroke did fall, as will be seen.
That is Bruhl's posture in the matter. [Ranke, iii. 231, 314.]

To Britannic George, for a good while past, it has been manifest
that the Pragmatic Sanction, in its original form, is an extinct
object; that reconquest of Silesia, and such like, is melancholy
moonshine; and that, in fact, towards fighting the French with
effect, it is highly necessary to make peace with Friedrich of
Prussia again. This once more is George's and his Harrington's
fixed view. Friedrich's own wishes are known, or used to be, ever
since the late Kaiser's death,--though latterly he has fallen
silent, and even avoids the topic when offered (knowing his man)!
Herrington has to apply formally to Friedrich's Minister at
Hanover. "Very well, if they are in earnest this time," so
Friedrich instructs his Minister: "My terms are known to you;
no change admissible in the terms;--do not speak with me on it
farther: and, observe, within four weeks, the thing finished, or
else broken off!" [Ranke, iii. 277-281.] And in this sense they are
laboring incessantly, with Austria, with Saxony,--without the least
success;--and Excellency Robinson has again a panting uncomfortable
time. Here is a scene Robinson transacts at Vienna, which gives us
a curious face-to-face glimpse of her Hungarian Majesty, while
Friedrich is in his Camp at Chlum.

                      HER HUNGARIAN MAJESTY.

Robinson, in a copious sonorous speech (rather apt to be copious,
and to fall into the Parliamentary CANTO-FERMO), sets forth how
extremely ill we Allies are faring on the French hand; nothing done
upon Silesia either; a hopeless matter that,--is it not, your
Majesty? And your Majesty's forces all lying there, in mere dead-
lock; and we in such need of bhem! "Peace with Prussia is
indispensable."--To which her Majesty listened, in statuesque
silence mostly; "never saw her so reserved before, my Lord." ...

ROBINSON. ... "'Madam, the Dutch will be obliged to accept
Neutrality' [and plump down again, after such hoisting]!

QUEEN. "'Well, and if they did, they? "It would be easier to
accommodate with France itself, and so finish the whole matter,
than with Prussia." My Army could not get to the Netherlands this
season. No General of mine would undertake conducting it at this
day of the year. Peace with Prussia, what good could it do
at present?'

ROBINSON. "'England has already found, for subsidies, this year,
1,178,753 pounds. Cannot go on at that rate. Peace with Prussia is
one of the returns the English Nation expects for all it has done.'

QUEEN. "'I must have Silesia again: without Silesia the Kaiserhood
were an empty title. "Or would you have us administer it under the
guardiancy of Prussia!"' ...

ROBINSON. "'In Bohemia itself things don't look well; nothing done
on Friedrich: your Saxons seem to be qnarrelling with you, and
going home.'

QUEEN. "'Prince Karl is himself capable of fighting the Prussians
again. Till that, do not speak to me of Peace! Grant me only
till October!'

ROBINSON. "'Prussia will help the Grand-Duke to Kaisership.'

QUEEN. "'The Grand-Duke is not so ambitions of an empty honor as to
engage in it under the tutelage of Prussia. Consider farther:
the Imperial dignity, is it compatible with the fatal deprivation
of Silesia? "One other battle, I say! Good God, give me only till
the month of October!"'

ROBINSON. "'A battle, Madam, if won, won't reconquer Silesia;
if lost, your Majesty is ruined at home.'

BATAILLE CE SOIR (Had I to agree with him to-morrow, I would try
him in a battle this evening)!'" [Robinson's Despatch, 4th August,
1745. Ranke, iii. 287; Raumer, pp. 161, 162.]

Her Majesty is not to be hindered; deaf to Robinson, to her
Britannic George who pays the money. "Cruel man, is that what you
call keeping the Pragmatic Sanction; dismembering me of Province
after Province, now in Germany, then in Italy, on pretext of
necessity? Has not England money, then? Does not England love the
Cause of Liberty? Give me till October!" Her Majesty did take till
October, and later, as we shall see; poor George not able to
hinder, by power of the purse or otherwise: who can hinder high
females, or low, when they get into their humors? Much of this
Austrian obstinacy, think impartial persons, was of female nature.
We shall see what profit her Majesty made by taking till October.

As for George, the time being run, and her Majesty and Saxony
unpersuadable, he determined to accept Friedrich's terms himself,
in hope of gradually bringing the others to do it. August 26th, at
Hanover, there is signed a CONVENTION OF HANOVER between Friedrich
and him: "Peace on the old Breslau-Berlin terms,--precisely the
same terms, but Britannic Majesty to have them guaranteed by All
the Powers, on the General Peace coming,--so that there be no
snake-procedure henceforth." Silesia Friedrich's without fail, dear
Hanover unmolested even by a thought of Friedrich's;--and her
Hungarian Majesty to be invited, nay urged by every feasible
method, to accede. [Adelung, v. 75; is "in Rousset, xix. 441;"
in &c. &c.] Which done, Britannic Majesty--for there has hung
itself out, in the Scotch Highlands, the other day ("Glenfinlas,
August 12th"), a certain Standard "TANDEM TRIUMPHANS," and
unpleasant things are imminent!--hurries home at his best pace, and
has his hands full there, for some time. On Austria, on Saxony, he
could not prevail: "By no manner of means!" answered they; and went
their own road,--jingling his Britannic subsidies in their pocket;
regardless of the once Supreme Jove, who is sunk now to a very
different figure on the German boards.

Friedrich's outlook is very bad: such a War to go on, and not even
finance to do it with. His intimates, his Rothenburg one time, have
"found him sunk in gloomy thought." But he wears a bright face
usually. No wavering or doubting in him, his mind made up; which is
a great help that way. Friedrich indicates, and has indicated
everywhere, for many months, that Peace, precisely on the old
footing, is all he wants: "The Kaiser being dead, whom I took up
arms to defend, what farther object is there?" says he.
"Renounce Silesia, more honestly than last time; engage to have it
guaranteed by everybody at the General Peace (or perhaps
Hohenfriedberg will help to guarantee it),--and I march home!"
My money is running down, privately thinks he; guarantee Silesia,
and I shall be glad to go. If not, I must raise money somehow; melt
the big silver balustrades at Berlin, borrow from the STANDE, or do
something; and, in fact, must stand here, unless Silesia is
guaranteed, and struggle till I die.

That latter withal is still privately Friedrich's thought. Under
his light air, he carries unspoken that grimly clear determination,
at all times, now and henceforth; and it is an immense help to the
guidance of him. An indispensable, indeed. No king or man,
attempting anything considerable in this world, need expect to
achieve it except, tacitly, on those same terms, "I will achieve it
or die!" For the world, in spite of rumors to the contrary, is
always much of a bedlam to the sanity (so far as he may have any)
of every individual man. A strict place, moreover; its very
bedlamisms flowing by law, as do alike the sudden mud- deluges, and
the steady Atlantic tides, and all things whatsoever: a world
inexorable, truly, as gravitation itself;--and it will behoove you
to front it in a similar humor, as the tacit basis for whatever
wise plans you lay. In Friedrich, from the first entrance of him on
the stage of things, we have had to recognize this prime quality,
in a fine tacit form, to a complete degree; and till his last exit,
we shall never find it wanting. Tacit enough, unconscious almost,
not given to articulate itself at all;--and if there be less of
piety than we could wish in the silence of it, there is at least no
play-actor mendacity, or cant of devoutness, to poison the high
worth of it. No braver little figure stands on the Earth at that
epoch. Ready, at the due season, with his mind silently made
up;--able to answer diplomatic Robinsons, Bartensteins and the very
Destinies when they apply. If you will withdraw your snakish
notions, will guarantee Silesia, will give him back his old Treaty
of Berlin in an irrefragable shape, he will march home; if not, he
will never march home, but be carried thither dead rather. That is
his intention, if the gods permit.

                           FOR SILESIA.

There occurred at Frankfurt--the clear majority, seven of the nine
Electors, Bavaria itself (nay Bohemia this time, "distaff" or not),
and all the others but Friedrich and Kur-Pfalz, being so disposed
or so disposable, Traun being master of the ground--no difficulty
about electing Grand-Duke Franz Stephan of Tuscany? Joint-King of
Bohemia, to be Kaiser of the Holy Romish Reich. Friedrich's envoy
protested;--as did Kur-Pfalz's, with still more vehemence, and then
withdrew to Hanau: the other Seven voted September 13th 1745: and
it was done. A new Kaiser, Franz Stephan, or Franz I.,--with our
blessing on him, if that can avail much. But I fear it cannot. Upon
such mendacious Empty-Case of Kaiserhood, without even money to
feed itself, not to speak of governing, of defending and coercing;
upon such entities the blessings of man avail little; the gods,
having warned them to go, do not bless them for staying! --However,
tar-barrels burn, the fountains play (wine in some of them, I
hope); Franz is to be crowned in a fortnight hence, with
extraordinary magnificence. At this last part of it Maria Theresa
will, in her own high person, attend; and proceeds accordingly
towards Frankfurt, in the end of September (say the old Books), so
soon as the Election is over.

Hungarian Majesty's bearing was not popular there, according to
Friedrich,--who always admires her after a sort, and always speaks
of her like a king and gentleman:--but the High Lady, it is
intimated, felt somewhat too well that she was high. Not sorry to
have it known, under the due veils, that her Kaiser-Husband is but
of a mimetic nature; that it is she who has the real power; and
that indeed she is in a victorious posture at present. Very high in
her carriage towards the Princes of the Reich, and their
privileges:--poor Kur-Pfalz's notary, or herald, coming to protest
(I think, it was the second time) about something, she quite
disregarded his tabards, pasteboards, or whatever they were, and
clapt him in prison. The thing was commented upon; but Kur-Pfalz
got no redress. Need we repeat,--lazy readers having so often met
him, and forgotten him again,--this is a new younger Kur-Pfalz:
Karl Theodor, this one; not Friedrich Wilhelm's old Friend, but his
Successor, of the Sulzbach line; of whom, after thirty years or so,
we may again hear. He can complain about his violated tabard; will
get his notary out of jail again, but no redress.

Highish even towards her friends, this "Empress-Queen"
(KAISERIN-KONIGIN, such her new title), and has a kind of
Nothing" air towards them. Prussian Majesty, she said, had
unquestionable talents; but, oh, what a character! Too much levity,
she said, by far; heterodox too, in the extreme; a BOSER MANN;--and
what a neighbor has he been! As to Silesia, she was heard to say,
she would as soon part with her petticoat as part with it.
[<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 126, 128.]--
So that there is not the least prospect of peace here? "None,"
answer Friedrich's emissaries, whom he had empowered to hint the
thing. Which is heavy news to Friedrich.

Early in August, not long after that Audience of Robinson's, her
Majesty, after repeated written messages to Prince Karl, urging him
to go into fight again or attempt something, had sent two high
messengers: Prince Lobkowitz, Duke d'Ahremberg, high dignitaries
from Court, have come to Konigsgratz with the latest urgencies, the
newest ideas; and would fain help Prince Karl to attempt something.
Daily they used to come out upon a little height, in view of
Friedrich's tent, and gaze in upon him, and round all Nature, "with
big tubes," he says, "as if they had been astronomers;" but never
attempted anything. We remember D'Ahremberg, and what part he has
played, from the Dettingen times and onward. "A debauched old
fellow," says Friedrich; "gone all to hebetude by his labors in
that line; agrees always with the last speaker." Prince Karl seems
to have little stomach himself; and does not see his way into (or
across) another Battle. Lobkowitz, again, is always saying:
"Try something! We are now stronger than they, by their detachings,
by our reinforcings" (indeed, about twice their number, regular and
irregular), though most of the Saxons are gone home. After much
gazing through their tubes, the Austrians (August 23d) do make a
small shift of place, insignificant otherwise; the Prussians, next
day, do the like, in consequence; quit Chlum, burning their huts;
post themselves a little farther up the Elbe,--their left at a
place called Jaromirz, embouchure of the Aupa into Elbe,
[<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 129.]--and are
again unattackable.

The worst fact is the multitude of Pandours, more and more
infesting our provision-roads; and that horse-forage itself is, at
last, running low. Detachments lie all duly round to right and
left, to secure our communications with Silesia, especially to
left, out of Glatz, where runs one of the chief roads we have.
But the service is becoming daily more difficult. For example:--

"NEUSTADT, 8th SEPTEMBER. In that left-hand quarter, coming out of
Glatz at a little Bohemian Town called Neustadt, the Prussian
Commander, Tauenzien by name, was repeatedly assaulted; and from
September 8th, had to stand actual siege, gallantly repulsing a
full 10,000 with their big artillery, though his walls were all
breached, for about a week, till Friedrich sent him relief.
Prince Lobkowitz, our old anti-Belleisle friend, who is always of
forward fiery humor, had set them on this enterprise; which has
turned out fruitless. The King is much satisfied with Tauenzien;
[Ib. 132.] of whom we shall hear again. Who indeed becomes notable
to us, were it only for getting one Lessing as secretary, by and
by: Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, whose fame has since gone into all
countries; the man having been appointed a 'Secretary' to the very
Destinies, in some sort; that is to say, a Writer of Books which
have turned out to have truth in them! Tauenzien, a grimmish
aquiline kind of man, of no superfluous words, has distinguished
himself for the present by defending Neustadt, which the Austrians
fully counted to get hold of."

Let us give another little scene; preparatory to quitting this
Country, as it is evident the King and we will soon have to do;
Country being quite eaten out, Pandours getting ever rifer, and the
Season done:--

JAROMIRZ, "EARLY IN SEPTEMBER," 1745. "Jaromirz is a little
Bohemian Town on the Aupa, or between the Aupa and Metau branches
of the Upper Elbe; four or five miles north of Semonitz, where
Friedrich's quarter now is. Valori, so seldom spoken to, is lodged
in a suburb there: 'Had not you better go into the town itself?'
his Majesty did once say; but Valori, dreading nothing, lodged on,
--'Landlord a Burgher whom I thought respectable.' Respectable, yes
he; but his son had been dealing with Franquini the Pandour, and
had sold Valori,--night appointed, measures all taken; a miracle if
Valori escape. Franquini, chief of 30,000 Pandours, has come in
person to superintend this important capture; and lies hidden, with
a strong party, in the woods to rearward. Prussians about 200,
scattered in posts, occupy the hedges in front, for guard of the
ovens; to rear, Jaromirz being wholly ours, there is no suspicion.

"In the dead of the night, Franquini emerges from the woods;
sends forward a party of sixty, under the young Judas; who, by
methods suitable, gets them stealthily conducted into Papa's Barn,
which looks across a courtyard into Valori's very windows. From the
Barn it is easy, on paws of velvet, to get into the House, if you
have a Judas to open it. Which you have:--bolts all drawn for you,
and even beams ready for barricading if you be meddled with.
'Upstairs is his Excellency asleep; Excellency's room is--to right,
do you remember; or to left'--'Pshaw, we shall find it!'
The Pandours mount; find a bedroom, break it open,--some fifteen or
sixteen of them, and one who knows a little French;--come crowding
forward: to the horror and terror of the poor inhabitant.'
'QUE VOULEZ-VOUS DONC?' 'His Excellency Valori!' 'Well, no
violence; I am your prisoner: let me dress!' answers the supposed
Excellency,--and contrives to secrete portfolios, and tear or make
away with papers. And is marched off, under a select guard, who
leave the rest to do the pillage. And was not Valori at all;
was Valori's Secretary, one D'Arget, who had called himself Valori
on this dangerous occasion! Valori sat quaking behind his
partition; not till the Pandours began plundering the stables did
the Prussian sentry catch sound of them, and plunge in."

Friedrich had his amusement out of this adventure; liked D'Arget,
the clever Secretary; got D'Arget to himself before long, as will
be seen;--and, in quieter times, dashed off a considerable
Explosion of Rhyme, called LE PALLADION (Valori as Prussia's
"Palladium," with Devils attempting to steal him, and the like),
which was once thought an exquisite Burlesque,--Kings coveting a
sight of it, in vain,--but is now wearisome enough to every reader.
[Valori, i. 242; <italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic>
iii. 130: for the Fact. Exquisite Burlesque, PALLADION itself, is
in <italic> OEuvres, <end italic> xi. 192-271 (see IB. 139): a bad
copy of that very bad Original, JEANNE D'ARC,--the only thing now
good in it, Friedrich's polite yet positive refusal to gratify King
Louis and his Pompdour with a sight of it (see IB. PREFACE, x-xiv,
Friedrich's Letter to Louis; date of request and of refusal, March,
1750).]--Let us attend his Majesty's exit from Bohemia.

                         Chapter XII.

                        BATTLE OF SOHR.

The famed beautiful Elbe River rises in romantic chasms, terrible
to the picturesque beholder, at the roots of the Riesengebirge;
overlooked by the Hohe-Kamms, and highest summits of that chain.
"Out of eleven wells," says gentle Dulness, "EILF or ELF QUELLEN,
whence its name, Elbe for ELF." Sure enough, it starts out of
various wells; [Description, in Zollner, <italic> Briefe uber
Schlesien, <end italic> ii. 305; in &c. &c.] rushes out, like a
great peacock's or pasha's tail, from the roots of the Giant
Mountains thereabouts; and hurries southward,--or even rather
eastward, at first; for (except the Iser to westward, which does
not fall in for a great while) its chief branches come from the
eastern side: Aupa, Metau, Adler, the drainings of Glatz, and of
that rugged Country where Friedrich has been camping and
manoeuvring all summer. On the whole, its course is southward for
the first seventy or eighty miles, washing Jaromirz, Konigshof,
Konigsgratz, down to Pardubitz: at Pardubitz it turns abruptly
westward, and holds on so, bending even northward, by hill and
plain, through the rest of its five or six hundred miles.

Its first considerable branch, on that eastern or left bank, is the
Aupa, which rises in the Pass of Schatzlar (great struggling there,
for convoys, just now); goes next by Trautenau, which has lately
been burnt; and joins the Elbe at Jaromirz, where Valori was
stolen, or nearly so, from under the Prussian left wing. The Aupa
runs nearly straight south; the Elbe, till meeting it, has run
rather southeast; but after joining they go south together,
augmented by the Metau, by the Adler, down to Pardubitz, where the
final turn to west occurs. Jaromirz, which lies in the very angle
of Elbe and Aupa, is the left wing of Friedrich's Camp; main body
of the Camp lies on the other side of the Elbe, but of course has
bridges (as at Smirzitz, where that straw sentry did his pranks
lately); bridges are indispensable, part of our provision coming
always by that BOHEMIAN Neustadt, from the northeast quarter out of
Silesia; though the main course of our meal (and much fighting for
it) is direct from the north, by the Pass of Schatzlar,--
"Chaslard," as poor Valori calls it.

Thus Friedrich lay, when Valori escaped being stolen;
when Tauenzien was assailed by the 10,000 Pandours with siege
artillery, and stood inexpugnable in the breach till Friedrich
relieved him. Those Pandours "had cut away his water, for the last
two days;" so that, except for speedy relief, all valor had been in
vain. Water being gone, not recoverable without difficulties,
Neustadt was abandoned (September 16th, as I guess);--one of our
main Silesian roads for meal has ceased. We have now only Schatzlar
to depend on; where Franquini--lying westward among the glens of
the Upper Elbe, and possessed of abundant talent in the Tolpatch
way (witness Valori's narrow miss lately)--gives us trouble enough.
Friedrich determines to move towards Schatzlar. Homewards, in fact;
eating the Country well as he goes.

Saturday, 18th September, Friedrich crosses the Elbe at Jaromirz.
Entirely unopposed; the Austrians were all busy firing FEU-DE-JOIE
for the Election of their Grand-Duke: Election done five days ago
at Frankfurt, and the news just come. So they crackle about, and
deliver rolling fire, at a great rate; proud to be "IMPERIAL Army"
henceforth, as if that could do much for them. There was also vast
dining, for three days, among the high heads, and a great deal of
wine spent. That probably would have been the chance to undertake
something upon them, better than crossing the Elbe, says Friedrich
looking back. But he did not think of it in time; took second-best
in place of best.

He is now, therefore, over into that Triangular piece of Country
between Elbe and Aupa (if readers will consult their Map); in that
triangle, his subsequent notable operations all lie. He here
proposes to move northward, by degrees,--through Trautenau,
Schatzlar, and home; well eating this bit of Country too, the last
uneaten bit, as he goes. This well eaten, there will be no harbor
anywhere for Invasion, through the Winter coming. One of my old
Notes says of it, in the topographic point of view:--

"It is a triangular patch of Country, which has lain asleep since
the Creation of the World; traversed only by Boii (BOI-HEIM-ERS,
Bohemians), Czechs and other such populations, in Human History;
but which Friedrich has been fated to make rather notable to the
Moderns henceforth. Let me recommend it to the picturesque tourist,
especially to the military one. Lovers of rocky precipices,
quagmires, brawling torrents and the unadulterated ruggedness of
Nature, will find scope there; and it was the scene of a
distinguished passage of arms, with notable display of human
dexterity and swift presence of mind. For the rest, one of the
wildest, and perhaps (except to the picturesque tourist) most
unpleasant regions in the world. Wild stony upland; topmost Upland,
we may say, of Europe in general, or portion of such Upland;
for the rainstorms hereabouts run several roads,--into the German
Ocean and Atlantic by the Elbe, into the Baltic by the Oder, into
the Black Sea by the Donau;--and it is the waste Outfield whither
you rise, by long weeks-journeys, from many sides.

"Much of it, towards the angle of Elbe and Aupa, is occupied by a
huge waste Wood, called 'Kingdom Forest' (KONIGREICH SYLVA or WALD,
peculium of Old Czech Majesties, I fancy); may be sixty square
miles in area, the longer side of which lies along the Elbe.
A Country of rocky defiles; lowish hills chaotically shoved
together, not wanting their brooks and quagmires, straight
labyrinthic passages; shaggy with wild wood. Some poor Hamlets here
and there, probably the sleepiest in Nature, are scattered about;
there may be patches ploughable for rye [modern Tourist says
snappishly, There are many such; whole region now drained;
reminded me of Yorkshire Highlands, with the Western Sun gilding
it, that fine afternoon!]--ploughable for rye, buckwheat;
boggy grass to be gathered in summer; charcoaling to do; pigs at
least are presumable, among these straggling outposts of humanity
in their obscure Hamlets: poor ploughing, moiling creatures, they
little thought of becoming notable so soon! None of the Books (all
intent on mere soldiering) take the least notice of them; not at
the pains to spell their Hamlets right: no more notice than if they
also had been stocks and moss-grown stones. Nevertheless, there
they did evidently live, for thousands of years past, in a dim
manner;--and are much terrified to have become the seat of war, all
on a sudden. Their poor Hamlets, Sohr, Staudentz, Prausnitz,
Burgersdorf and others still send up a faint smoke; and have in
them, languidly, the live-coal of mysterious human existence, in
those woods,--to judge by the last maps that have come out. A thing
worth considering by the passing tourist, military or other."

It is in this Kingdom Forest (which he calls ROYAUME DE SILVA,
instead of SYLVA DE ROYAUME) that Friedrich now nmrches;
keeping the body of the Forest well on his left, and skirting the
southern and eastern sides of it. Rough marching for his Majesty;
painfully infested by Nadastian Tolpatches; who run out on him from
ambushes, and need to be scourged; one ambush in particular, at a
place called Liebenthal (second day's march, and near the end of
it),-- where our Prussian Hussars, winding like fiery dragons on
the dangerous precipices, gave them better than they brought, and
completely quenched their appetite for that day. After Liebenthal,
the march soon ends; three miles farther on, at the dim wold-hamlet
of Staudentz: here a camp is pitched; here, till the Country is
well eaten out, or till something else occur, we propose to tarry
for a time.

Horse-forage abounds here; but there is no getting of it without
disturbance from those dogs; you must fight for every truss of
grass: if a meal-train is coming, as there does every five days,
you have to detach 8,000 foot and 3,000 horse to help it safe in.
A fretting fatiguing time for regular troops. Our bakery is at
Trautenau,--where Valori is now lodging. The Tolpatchery, unable to
take Trautenau, set fire to it, though it is their own town, their
own Queen's town; thatchy Trautenau, wooden too in the upper
stories of it, takes greedily to the fire; goes all aloft in flame,
and then lies black. A scandalous transaction, thinks Friedrich.
The Prussian corn lay nearly all in cellars; little got, even of
the Prussians, by such an atrocity: and your own poor fellow-
subjects, where are they? Valori was burnt out here; again exploded
from his quarters, poor man;--seems to have thought it a mere fire
in his own lodging, and that he was an unfortunate diplomatist.
Happily he got notice (PRIVATISSIME, for no officer dare whisper in
such cases) that there is an armed party setting out for Silesia,
to guard meal that is coming: Valori yokes himself to this armed
party, and gets safe over the Hills with it,--then swift, by extra
post, to Breslau and to civilized (partially civilized)
accommodation, for a little rest after these hustlings
and tossings.

Friedrich had lain at Staudentz, in this manner, bickering
continually for his forage, and eating the Country, for about ten
days: and now, as the latter process is well on, and the season
drawing to a close: he determines on a shift northward.
Thursday, 30th September next, let there be one other grand forage,
the final one in this eaten tract, then northward to fresh grounds.
That, it appears, was the design. But, on Wednesday, there came in 
an Austrian deserter; who informs us that Prince Karl is not now in
Konigsgratz, but in motion up the Elbe; already some fifty miles
up; past Jaromirz: his rear at Konigshof, his van at Arnau,--on a
level with burnt Trautenau, and farther north than we ourselves
are. This is important news. "Intending to block us out from
Schatzlar? Hmh!" Single scouts, or small parties, cannot live in
this Kingdom Wood, swarming with Pandours: Friedrich sends out a
Colonel Katzler, with 500 light horse, to investigate a little.
Katzler pushes forward, on such lane or forest road-track as there
is, towards Konigshof; beats back small hussar parties;--comes, in
about an hour's space, not upon hussars merely, but upon dense
masses of heavy horse winding through the forest lanes; and, with
that imperfect intelligence, is obliged to return. The deserter
spake truth, apparently; and that is all we can know. Forage scheme
is given up; the order is, "Baggage packed, and MARCH to-morrow
morning at ten." Long before ten, there had great things befallen
on the morrow!--Try to understand this Note a little:--

"The Camp of Staudentz- which two persons (the King, and General
Stille, a more careful reporter, who also was an eye-witness) have
done their best to describe--will, after all efforts, and an
Ordnance Map to help, remain considerably unintelligible to the
reader; as is too usual in such cases. A block of high-lying
ground; Friedrich's Camp on it, perhaps two miles long, looks to
the south; small Village of Staudentz in front; hollow beyond that,
and second small Village, Deutsch Prausnitz, hanging on the
opposite slope, with shaggy heights beyond, and the Kingdom Forest
there beginning: on the left, defiles, brooks and strait country,
leading towards the small town of Eypel: that is our left and front
aspect, a hollow well isolating us on those sides. Hollow continues
all along the front; hollow definite on our side of it, and forming
a tolerable defence:--though again, I perceive, to rightward at no
great distance, there rise High Grounds which considerably overhang
us." A thing to be marked! "These we could not occupy, for want of
men; but only maintain vedettes upon them. Over these Heights, a
mile or two westward of this hollow of ours, runs the big winding
hollow called Georgengrund (GEORGE'S BOTTOM), which winds up and
down in that Kingdom Forest, and offers a road from Konigshof to
Trautenau, among other courses it takes.

"From the crown of those Heights on our right flank here, looking
to the west, you might discern (perhaps three miles off, from one
of the sheltering nooks in the hither side of that Georgengrund),
rising faintly visible over knolls and dingles, the smoke of a
little Forest Village. That Village is Sohr; notable ever since,
beyond others, in the Kingdom Wood. Sohr, like the other Villages,
has its lane-roads; its road to Trautenau, to Konigshof, no doubt;
but much nearer you, on our eastern slope of the Heights, and far
hitherward of Sohr, which is on the western, goes the great road
[what is now the great road], from Konigshof to Trautenau, well
visible from Friedrich's Camp, though still at some distance from
it. Could these Heights between us and Sohr, which lie beyond the
great road, be occupied, we were well secured; isolated on the
right too, as on the other sides, from Kingdom Forest and its
ambushes. 'Should have been done,' admits Friedrich; 'but then,
as it is, there are not troops enough:' with 18,000 men you cannot
do everything!"

Here, however, is the important point. In Sohr, this night, 29th
September, in a most private manner, the Austrians, 30,000 of them
and more, have come gliding through the woods, without even their
pipe lit, and with thick veil of hussars ahead! Outposts of theirs
lie squatted in the bushes behind Deutsch Prausnitz, hardly 500
yards from Friedrich's Camp. And eastward, leftward of him, in the
defiles about Eypel, lie Nadasti and Ruffian Trenck, with ten or
twelve thousand, who are to take him in rear. His "Camp of
Staudentz" will be at a fine pass to-morrow morning. The Austrian
Gentlemen had found, last week, a certain bare Height in the Forest
(Height still known), from which they could use their astronomer
tubes day after day; [Orlich, ii. 225.] and now they are about
attempting something!

Thursday morning, very early, 30th September, 1745, Friedrich was
in his tent, busy with generals and march-routes,--when a rapid
orderly comes in, from that Vedette, or strong Piquet, on the
Heights to our right: "Austrians visibly moving, in quantity, near
by!" and before he has done answering, the officer himself arrives:
"Regular Cavalry in great force; long dust-cloud in Kingdom Forest,
in the gray dawn; and, so far as we can judge, it is their Army
coming on." Here is news for a poor man, in the raw of a September
morning, by way of breakfast to him! "To arms!" is, of course,
Friedrich's instant order; and he himself gallops to the Piquet on
the Heights, glass in hand. "Austrian Army sure enough, thirty to
thirty-five thousand of them, we only eighteen. [<italic> OEuvres
de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 139.] Coming to take us on the right
flank here; to attack our Camp by surprise: will crush us northward
through the defiles, and trample us down in detail? Hmh! To run for
it, will never do. We must fight for it, and even attack THEM, as
our way is, though on such terms. Quick, a plan!" The head of
Friedrich is a bank you cannot easily break by coming on it for
plans: such a creature for impromptu plans, and unexpected dashes
swift as the panther's, I have hardly known,--especially when you
squeeze him into a corner, and fancy he is over with it!
Friedrich gallops down, with his plan clear enough; and already the
Austrians, horse and foot, are deploying upon those Heights he has
quitted; Fifty Squadrons of Horse for left wing to them, and a
battery of Twenty-eight big Guns is establishing itself where
Friedrich's Piquet lately stood.

Friedrich's right flank has to become his front, and face those
formidable Austrian Heights and Batteries; and this with more than
Prussian velocity, and under the play of those twenty-eight big
guns, throwing case-shot (GRENADES ROYALES) and so forth, all the
while. To Valori, when he heard of the thing, it is inconceivable
how mortal troops could accomplish such a movement;
Friedrich himself praises it, as a thing honorably well done.
Took about half an hour; case-shot raining all the while;
soldier honorably never-minding: no flurry, though a speed like
that of spinning-tops. And here we at length are, Staudentz now to
rear of us, behind our centre a good space; Burgersdorf in front of
us to right, our left reaching to Prausnitz: Austrian lines, three
deep of them, on the opposite Height; we one line only, which
matches them in length.

They, that left wing of horse, should have thundered down on us,
attacking us, not waiting our attack, thinks Friedrich; but they
have not done it. They stand on their height there, will perhaps
fire carbines, as their wont is. "You, Buddenbrock, go into them
with your Cuirassiers!" Buddenbrock and the Cuirassiers, though it
is uphill, go into them at a furious rate; meet no countercharge,
mere sputter of carbines;--tumble them to mad wreck, back upon
their second line, back upon their third: absurdly crowded there on
their narrow height, no room to manoeuvre; so that they plunge,
fifty squadrons of them, wholly into the Georgengrund rearward,
into the Kingdom Wood, and never come on again at all.
Buddenbrock has done his job right well.

Seeing which, our Infantry of the right wing, which stood next to
Buddenbrock, made impetuous charge uphill, emulous to capture that
Battery of Twenty-eight; but found it, for some time, a terrible
attempt. These Heights are not to be called "hills," still less
"mountains" (as in some careless Books); but it is a stiff climb at
double-quick, with twenty-eight big guns playing in the face of
you. Storms of case-shot shear away this Infantry, are quenching
its noble fury in despair; Infantry visibly recoiling, when our
sole Three Regiments of Reserve hurry up to support. Round these
all rallies; rushes desperately on, and takes the Battery,--of
course, sending the Austrian left wing rapidly adrift, on loss of
the same.

This, I consider, is the crisis of the Fight; the back of the
Austrian enterprise is already broken, by this sad winging of it on
the left. But it resists still; comes down again,--the reserve of
their left wing seen rapidly making for Burgersdorf, intending an
attack there; which we oppose with vigor, setting Burgersdorf on
fire for temporary screen; and drive the Austrian reserve rapidly
to rearward again. But there is rally after rally of them.
They rank again on every new height, and dispute there; loath to be
driven into Kingdom Wood, after such a flourish of arms.
One height, "bushy steep height," the light-limbed valiant Prince,
little Ferdinand of Brunswick, had the charge of attacking; and he
did it with his usual impetus and irresistibility:--and, strangely
enough, the defender of it chanced to be that Brother of his,
Prince Ludwig, with whom he had the little Interview lately.
Prince Ludwig got a wound, as well as lost his height. The third
Brother, poor Prince Albrecht, who is also here, as volunteer
apprentice, on the Prussian side, gets killed. There will never be
another Interview, for all three, between the Camps! Strange times
for those poor Princes, who have to seek soldiering for
their existence.

Meanwhile the Cavalry of Buddenbrock, that is to say of the right
wing, having now no work in that quarter, is despatched to
reinforce the left wing, which has stood hitherto apart on its own
ground; not attacked or attacking,--a left wing REFUSED, as the
soldiers style it. Reinforced by Buddenbrock, this left wing of
horse does now also storm forward;--"near the Village of Prausnitz"
(Prausnitz a little way to rear of it), thereabouts, is the scene
of its feat. Feat done in such fashion that the Austrians opposite
will not stand the charge at all; but gurgle about in a chaotic
manner; then gallop fairly into Kingdom Wood, without stroke
struck; and disappear, as their fellows had done. Whereupon the
Prussian horse breaks in upon the adjoining Infantry of that flank
(Austrian right flank, left bare in this manner); champs it also
into chaotic whirlpools; cuts away an outskirt of near 2,000
prisoners, and sets the rest running. This seems to have been
pretty much the COUP-DE-GRACE of the Fight; and to have brought the
Austrian dispute to finis. From the first, they had rallied on the
heights; had struggled and disputed. Two general rallies they made,
and various partial, but none had any success. They were driven on,
bayonet in back, as the phrase is: with this sad slap on their
right, added to that old one on their left, what can they now do
but ebb rapidly; pour in cataracts into Kingdom Wood, and disappear
there? [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 135-143;
Stille, pp. 144-163; Orlich, ii. 227-243; <italic> Feldzuge, <end
italic>  i. 357, 363, 374.]

Prince Karl's scheme was good, says Friedrich; but it was ill
executed. He never should have let us form; his first grand fault
was that he waited to be attacked, instead of attacking. Parts of
his scheme were never executed at all. Duke d'Ahremberg, for
instance, it is said, had so dim a notion of the ground, that he
drew up some miles off, with his back to the Prussians. Such is the
rumor,--perhaps only a rumor, in mockery of the hebetated old
gentleman fallen unlucky? On the other hand, that Nadasti made a
failure which proved important, is indubitable. Nadasti, with some
thousands of Tolpatchery, was at Liebenthal, four miles to
southeast of the action; Ruffian Trenck lay behind Eypel, perhaps
as far to east, of it: Trenck and Nadasti were to rendezvous, to
unite, and attack the Prussian Camp on its rear,--"Camp," so ran
the order, for it was understood the Prussians would all be there,
we others attacking it in front and both flanks;--which turned out
otherwise, not for Nadasti alone!

Nadasti came to his rendezvous in time; Ruffian Trenck did not:
Nadasti grew tired of waiting for Trenck, and attacked the Camp by
himself:--Camp, but not any men; Camp being now empty, and the men
all fighting, ranked at right angles to it, furlongs and miles
away. Nadasti made a rare hand of the Camp; plundered everything,
took all the King's Camp-furniture, ready money, favorite dog
Biche,--likewise poor Eichel his Secretary, who, however, tore the
papers first. Tolpatchery exultingly gutted the Camp; and at last
set fire to it,--burnt even some eight or ten poor Prussian sick,
and also "some women whom they caught. We found the limbs of these
poor men and women lying about," reports old General Lehwald;
who knew about it. A doggery well worthy of the gallows, think
Lehwald and I. "Could n't help it; ferocity of wild men," says
Nadasti. "Well; but why not attack, then, with your ferocity?"
Confused Court-martial put these questions, at Vienna subsequently;
and Ruffian Trenck, some say, got injustice, Nadasti shuffling
things upon him; for which one cares almost nothing. Lehwald, lying
at Trautenau, had heard the firing at sunrise; and instantly
marched to help: he only arrived to give Nadasti a slash or two,
and was too late for the Fight. Oue Schlichtling, on guard with a
weak party, saved what was in the right wing of the Camp,--small
thanks to him, the Main Fight being so near: Friedrich's opinion
is, an Officer, in Schlichtling's place, ought to have done more,
and not have been so helpless.

This was the Battle of Sohr; so called because the Austrians had
begun there, and the Prussians ended there. The Prussian pursuit
drew bridle at that Village; unsafe to prosecute Austrians farther,
now in the deeps of Kingdom Forest. The Battle has lasted five
hours. It must be now getting towards noon; and time for breakfast,
if indeed any were to be had; but that is next to impossible,
Nadasti having been so busy. Not without extreme difficulty is a
manchet of bread, with or without a drop of wine, procured for the
King's Majesty this day. Many a tired hero will have nothing but
tobacco, with spring-water, to fall back upon. Never mind! says the
King, says everybody. After all, it is a cheap price to pay for
missing an attack from Pandours in the rear, while such crisis went
on ahead.

Lying COUSIN Trenck, of the Life-guard, who is now in Glatz, gives
vivid eye-witness particulars of these things, time of the morning
and so on; says expressly he was there, and what he did there,
[Frederic Baron de Trenck, <italic> Memoires, traduits par lui-meme
<end italic> (Strasbnrg and Paris, 1789), i. 74-78, 79.]--though in
Glatz under lock and key, three good months before. "How could I
help mistakes," said he afterwards, when people objected to this
and that in his blusterous mendacity of a Book: "I had nothing but
my poor agitated memory to trust to!" A man's memory, when it gets
the length of remembering that he was in the Battle of Sohr while
bodily absent, ought it not to--in fact, to strike work; to still
its agitations altogether, and call halt? Trenck, some months
after, got clambered out of Glatz, by sewers, or I forget how;
and leaped, or dropped, from some parapet into the River Neisse,--
sinking to the loins in tough mud, so that he could not stir

MAP TO GO HERE----BOOK 15-- page 499----

farther. "Fouquet let me stand there half a day, before he would
pick me out again." Rigorous Bouquet, human mercy forbidding, could
not let him stand there in permanence,--as we, better
circumstanced, may with advantage try to do, in time coming!

Friedrich lay at Sohr five days; partly for the honor of the thing,
partly to eat out the Country to perfection. Prince Karl, from
Konigshof, soon fell back to Konigsgratz; and lay motionless there,
nothing but his Tolpatcheries astir, Sohr Country all eaten,
Friedrich, in the due Divisions, marched northward.
Through Trautenau, Schatzlar, his own Division, which was the main
one;--and, fencing off the Tolpatches successfully with trouble,
brings all his men into Silesia again. A good job of work behind
them, surely! Cantons them to right and left of Landshut, about
Rohnstock and Hohenfriedberg, hamlets known so well; and leaving
the Young Dessauer to command, drives for Berlin (30th October),--
rapidly, as his wont is. Prince Karl has split up his force at
Konigsgratz; means, one cannot doubt, to go into winter-quarters.
If he think of invading, across that eaten Country and those bad
Mountains,--well, our troops can all be got together in six
hours' time.

At Trautenau, a week after Sohr, Friedrich had at last received the
English ratification of that Convention of Hanover, signed 26th
August, almost a month ago; not ratified till September 22d.
About which there had latterly been some anxiety, lest his
Britannic Majesty himself might have broken off from it.
With Austria, with Saxony, Britannic Majesty has been entirely
unsuccessful:--"May not Sohr, perhaps, be a fresh persuasive?"
hopes Friedrich;--but as to Britannic Majesty's breaking off, his
thoughts are far from that, if we knew! Poor Majesty: not long
since, Supreme Jove of Germany; and now--is like to be swallowed in
ragamuffin street-riots; not a thunder-bolt within clutch of him
(thunder-bolts all sticking in the mud of the Netherlands, far
off), and not a constable's staff of the least efficacy!
Consider these dates in combination. Battle of Sohr was on

"SUNDAY preceding, SEPTEMBER 26th, was such a Lord's-Day in the
City of Edinburgh, as had not been seen there,--not since Jenny
Geddes's stool went flying at the Bishop's head, above a hundred
years before. Big alarm-bell bursting out in the middle of divine
service; emptying all the Churches ('Highland rebels just at
hand!')--into General Meeting of the Inhabitants, into Chaos come
again, for the next forty hours. Till, in the gaunt midnight,
Tuesday, 2 A.M., Lochiel with about 1,000 Camerons, waiting slight
opportunity, crushed in through the Netherbow Port; and"--And,
about noon of that day, a poor friend of ours, loitering expectant
in the road that leads by St. Anthony's Well, saw making entry into
paternal Holyrood,--the Young Pretender, in person, who is just
being proclaimed Prince of Wales, up in the High-street yonder!
"A tall slender young man, about five feet ten inches high; of a
ruddy complexion, high-nosed, large rolling brown eyes; long-
visaged, red-haired, but at that time wore a pale periwig. He was
in a Highland habit [coat]; over the shoulder a blue sash wrought
with gold; red velvet breeches; a green velvet bonnet, with white
cockade on it and a gold lace. His speech seemed very like that of
an Irishman; very sly [how did you know, my poor friend?];--spoke
often to O'Sullivan [thought to be a person of some counsel; had
been Tutor to Maillebois's Boys, had even tried some irregular
fighting under Maillebois]--to O'Sullivan and" [Henderson, <italic>
Highland Rebellion, <end italic> p. 14.] ... And on Saturday, in
short, came PRESTONPANS. Enough of such a Supreme Jove; good for us
here as a timetable chiefly, or marker of dates!

Sunday, 3d October, King's Adjutant, Captain Mollendorf, a young
Officer deservedly in favor, arrives at Berlin with the joyful
tidings of this Sohr business ("Prausnitz" we then called it):
to the joy of all Prussians, especially of a Queen Mother, for whom
there is a Letter in pencil. After brief congratulation, Mollendorf
rushes on; having next to give the Old Dessauer notice of it in his
Camp at Dieskau, in the Halle neighborhood. Mollendorf appears in
Halle suddenly next morning, Monday, about ten o'clock, sixteen
postilions trumpeting, and at their swiftest trot, in front of
him;--shooting, like a melodious morning-star, across the rusty old
city, in this manner,--to Dieskau Camp, where he gives the Old
Dessauer his good news. Excellent Victory indeed; sharp striking,
swift self-help on our part. Halle and the Camp have enough to
think of, for this day and the next. Whither Mollendorf went next,
we will not ask: perhaps to Brunswick and other consanguineous
places?--Certain it is,

"On Wednesday, the 6th, about two in the afternoon, the Old
Dessauer has his whole Army drawn out there, with green sprigs in
their hats, at Dieskau, close upon the Saxon Frontier; and, after
swashing and manoeuvring about in the highest military style of
art, ranks them all in line, or two suitable lines, 30,000 of them;
and then, with clangorous outburst of trumpet, kettle-drum and all
manner of field-music, fires off his united artillery a first time;
almost shaking the very hills by such a thunderous peal, in the
still afternoon. And mark, close fitted into the artillery peal,
commences a rolling fire, like a peal spread out in threads,
sparkling strangely to eye and ear; from right to left, long spears
of fire and sharp strokes of sound, darting aloft, successive
simultaneous, winding for the space of miles, then back by the rear
line, and home to the starting-point: very grand indeed. Again, and
also again, the artillery peal, and rolling small-arms fitted into
it, is repeated; a second and a third time, kettle-drums and
trumpets doing what they can. That was the Old Dessauer's bonfiring
(what is called FEU-DE-JOIE), for the Victory of Sohr; audible
almost at Leipzig, if the wind were westerly. Overpowering to the
human mind; at least, to the old Newspaper reporter of that day.
But what was strangest in the business," continues he "(DAS
CURIEUSESTE DABEY), was that the Saxon Uhlans, lying about in the
villages across the Border, were out in the fields, watching the
sight, hardly 300 yards off, from beginning to end; and little
dreamed that his High Princely Serenity," blue of face and dreadful
in war, "was quite close to them, on the Height called Bornhock;
condescending to 'take all this into High-Serene Eye-shine there;
and, by having a white flag waved, deigning to give signal for the
discharges of the artillery.'" [<italic> Helden-Geschichte, <end
italic> i. 1124.]

By this the reader may know that the Old Dessauer is alive, ready
for action if called on; and Bruhl ought to comprehend better how
riskish his game with edge-tools is. Bruhl is not now in an
unprepared state:--here are Uhlans at one's elbow looking on.
Rutowski's Uhlans; who lies encamped, not far off, in good force,
posted among morasses; strongly entrenched, and with schemes in his
head, and in Bruhl's, of an aggressive, thrice-secret and very
surprising nature! I remark only that, in Heidelberg Country,
victorious old Traun is putting his people into winter-quarters;
himself about to vanish from this History, [Went to SIEBENBURGEN
(Transylvania) as Governor; died there February, 1748, age
seventy-one (<italic> Maria Theresiens Leben, <end italic> p. 56
n.).]--and has detached General Grune with 10,000 men; who left
Heidelberg October 9th, on a mysterious errand, heeded by nobody;
and will turn up in the next Chapter.

                         Chapter XIII.


After this strenuous and victorious Campaign, which has astonished
all public men, especially all Pragmatic Gazetteers, and with which
all Europe is disharmoniously ringing, Friedrich is hopeful there
will be Peace, through England;--cannot doubt, at least, but the
Austrians have had enough for one year;--and looks forward to
certain months, if not of rest, yet of another kind of activity.
Negotiation, Peace through England, if possible; that is the high
prize: and in the other case, or in any case, readiness for next
Campaign;--which with the treasury exhausted, and no honorable
subsidy from France, is a difficult problem.

That was Friedrich's, and everybody's, program of affairs for the
months coming: but in that Friedrich and everybody found themselves
greatly mistaken. Bruhl and the Austrians had decided otherwise.
"Open mouse-trap," at Striegau; claws of the sleeping cat, at Sohr:
these were sad experiences; ill to bear, with the Sea-Powers
grumbling on you, and the world sniffing its pity on you;--but are
not conclusive, are only provoking and even maddening, to the
sanguine mind. Two sad failures; but let us try another time.
"A tricky man; cunning enough, your King of Prussia!" thinks Bruhl,
with a fellness of humor against Friedrich which is little
conceivable to us now: "Cunning enough. But it is possible cunning
may be surpassed by deeper cunning!"--and decides, Bartenstein and
an indignant Empress-Queen assenting eagerly, That there shall, in
the profoundest secrecy till it break out, be a third, and much
fiercer trial, this Winter yet. The Bruhl-Bartenstein plan (owing
mainly to the Russian Bugbear which hung over it, protective, but
with whims of its own) underwent changes, successive redactions or
editions; which the reader would grudge to hear explained to him.
[Account of them in Orlich, ii. 273-278 (from various RUTOWSKI
Papers; and from the contemporary satirical Pamphlet,
"MONDSCHEINWURFE, Mirror-castings of Moonshine, by ZEBEDAUS Cuckoo,
beaten Captain of a beaten Army."] Of the final or acted edition,
some loose notion, sufficient for our purpose, may be collected
from the following fractions of Notes:--

NOVEMBER 17th (INTERIOR OF GERMANY). ... "Feldmarschall-Lieutenant
von Grune, a General of mark, detached by Traun not long since,
from the Rhine Country, with a force of 10,000 men, why is he
marching about: first to Baireuth Country, 'at Hof, November 9th,'
as if for Bohemia; then north, to Gera ('lies at Gera till the
17th'), as if for Saxony Proper? Prince Karl, you would certainly
say, has gone into winter-quarters; about Konigsgratz, and farther
on? Gone or going, sure enough, is Prince Karl, into the convenient
Bohemian districts,--uncertain which particular districts; at least
the Young Dessauer, watching him from the Silesian side, is
uncertain which. Better be vigilant, Prince Leopold!--Grune, lying
at Gera yonder, is not intending for Prince Karl, then? No, not
thither. Then perhaps towards Saxony, to reinforce the Saxons?
Or some-whither to find fat winter-quarters: who knows? Indeed, who
cares particularly, for such inconsiderable Grune and his 10,000!--

"The Saxons quitted their inexpugnable Camp towards Halle, some
time ago; went into cantonments farther inland;--the Old Dessauer
(middle of October) having done the like, and gone home: his force
lies rather scattered, for convenience of food and forage. From the
Silesian side, again, Prince Leopold, whose head-quarters are about
Striegau, intimates, That he cannot yet say, with certainty, what
districts Prince Karl will occupy for winter-quarters in Bohemia.
Prince Karl is vaguely roving about; detaching Pandours to the
Silesian Mountains, as if for checking our victorious Nassau
there;--always rather creeping northward; skirting Western Silesia
with his main force; 30,000 or better, with Lobkowitz and Nadasti
ahead. Meaning what? Be vigilant, my young friend.

"The private fact is, Prince Karl does not mean to go into winter-
quarters at all. In private fact, Prince Karl is one of Three
mysterious Elements or Currents, sent on a far errand: Grune is
another: Rutowski's Saxon Camp (now become Cantonment) is a third.
Three Currents instinct with fire and destruction, but as yet quite
opaque; which have been launched,--whitherward thinks the reader?
On Berlin itself, and the Mark of Brandenburg; there to collide,
and ignite in a marvellous manner. There is their meeting-point:
there shall they, on a sudden, smite one another into flame;
and the destruction blaze, fiery enough, round Friedrich and his
own Brandenburg homesteads there!--

"It is a grand scheme; scheme at least on a grand scale. For the
LEGS of it, Grune's march and Prince Karl's, are about 600 miles
long! Plan due chiefly, they say, to the yellow rage of Bruhl;
aided by the contrivance of Rutowski, and the counsel of Austrian
military men. For there is much consulting about it, and redacting
of it; Polish Majesty himself very busy. To Bruhl's yellow rage it
is highly solacing and hopeful. 'Rutowski, lying close in his
Cantonments, and then suddenly springing out, will overwhelm the
Old Dessauer, who lies wide;--can do it, surely; and Grune is there
to help if necessary. Dessauer blown to pieces, Grune, with
Rutowski combined, push in upon Brandenburg,--Grune himself upon
Berlin,--from the west and south, nobody expecting him. Prince
Karl, not taking into winter-quarters in Bohemia, as they idly
think; but falling down the Valley of the Bober, or Bober and
Queiss, into the Lausitz (to Gorlitz, Guben, where we have
Magazines for him), comes upon it from the southeast,--nobody
expecting any of them. Three simultaneous Armies hurled on the head
of your Friedrich; combustible deluges flowing towards him, as from
the ends of Germany; so opaque, silent, yet of fire wholly:
will not that surprise him!' thinks Bruhl. These are the schemes of
the little man."

Bruhl, having constituted himself rival to Friedrich, and fallen
into pale or yellow rage by the course things took, this Plan is
naturally his chief joy, or crown of joys; a bubbling well of
solace to him in his parched condition. He should, obviously, have
kept it secret; thrice-secret, the little fool;--but a poor parched
man is not always master of his private bubbling wells in that
kind! Wolfstierna is Swedish Envoy at Dresden; Rudenskjold, Swedish
Envoy at Berlin, has run over to see him in the dim November days.
Swedes, since Ulrique's marriage, are friendly to Prussia.
Bruhl has these two men to dinner; talks with them, over his wine,
about Friedrich's insulting usage of him, among other topics.
"Insulting; how, your Excellency?" asks Rudenskjold, privately a
friend of Friedrich. Bruhl explains, with voice quivering, those
cuts in the Friedrich manifesto of August last, and other griefs
suffered; the two Swedes soothing him with what oil they have
ready. "No matter!" hints Bruhl; and proceeds from hint to hint,
till the two Swedes are fully aware of the grand scheme:
Grune, Prince Karl; and how Destruction, with legs 500 miles long,
is steadily advancing to assuage one with just revenge.
"Right, your Excellency!"--only that Rudenskjold proceeds to
Berlin; and there straightway ("8th November") punctually makes
Friedrich also aware. [Stenzel, iv. 262; Ranke, iii. 317-323;
Friedrich's own narrative of it, <italic> OEuvres, <end italic>
iii. 148.] Foolish Bruhl: a man that has a secret should not only
hide it, but hide that he has it to hide.

               CUTS ONE LEG OF IT IN TWO (Fight of
                Hennersdorf, 23d November, 1745).

Friedrich, having heard the secret, gazes into it with horror and
astonishment: "What a time I have! This is not living; this is
being killed a thousand times a day!" [Ranke (iii. 321 n.): TO whom
said, we are not told.]--with horror and astonishment; but also
with what most luminous flash of eyesight is in him; compares it
with Prince Karl's enigmatic motions, Grune's open ones and the
other phenomena;--perceives that it is an indisputable fact, and a
thrice-formidable; requiring to be instantly dealt with by the
party interested! Whereupon, after hearty thanks to Rudenskjold,
there occur these rapidly successive phases of activity, which we
study to take up in a curt form.

FIRST (probably 9th or 10th November), there is Council held with
Minister Podewils and the Old Dessauer; Council from which comes
little benefit, or none. Podewils and Old Leopold stare
incredulous; cannot be made to believe such a thing.
"Impossible any Saxon minister or man would voluntarily bring the
theatre of war into his own Country, in this manner!" thinks the
Old Dessauer, and persists to think,--on what obstinate ground
Friedrich never knew. To which Podewils, "who has properties in the
Lausitz, and would so fain think them safe," obstinately, though
more covertly, adheres. "Impossible!" urge both these Councillors;
and Friedrich cannot even make them believe it. Believe it;
and, alas, believing it is not the whole problem!

Happily Friedrich has the privilege of ordering, with or without
their belief. "You, Podewils, announce the matter to foreign
Courts. You, Serene Highness of Anhalt, at your swiftest, collect
yonder, and encamp again. Your eye well on Grune and Rutowski;
and the instant I give you signal--! I am for Silesia, to look
after Prince Karl, the other long leg of this Business."
Old Leopold, according to Friedrich's account, is visibly glad of
such opportunity to fight again before he die: and yet, for no
reason except some senile jealousy, is not content with these
arrangements; perversely objects to this and that. At length the
King says,--think of this hard word, and of the eyes that accompany
it!--"When your Highness gets Armies of your own, you will order
them accordiug to your mind; at present, it must be according to
mine." On, then; and not a moment lost: for of all things we must
be swift!

Old Leopold goes accordingly. Friedrich himself goes in a week
hence. Orders, correspondences from Podewils and the rest, are
flying right and left;--to Young Leopold in Silesia, first of all.
Young Leopold draws out his forces towards the Silesian-Lausitz
border, where Prince Karl's intentions are now becoming visible.
And,--here is the second phase notable,--

"On Monday, 15th, ["18th," <italic> Feldzuge, <end italic> i. 402
(see Rodenbeck, i. 122).] at 7 A.M.," Friedrich rushes off, by
Crossen, full speed for Liegnitz; "with Rothenburg, with the Prince
of Prussia and Ferdinand of Brunswick accompanying." With what
thoughts,--though, in his face, you can read nothing; all Berlin
being already in such tremor! Friedrich is in Liegnitz next day;
and after needful preliminaries there, does, on the Thursday
following, "at Nieder-Adelsdorf," not far off, take actual command
of Prince Leopold's Army, which had lain encamped for some days,
waiting him. And now with such force in hand,--35,000, soldiers
every man of them, and freshened by a month's rest,--one will
endeavor to do some good upon Prince Karl. Probably sooner than
Prince Karl supposes. For there is great velocity in this young
King; a panther-like suddenness of spring in him: cunning, too, as
any Felis of them; and with claws like the Felis Leo on occasion.
Here follows the brief Campaign that ensued, which I strive greatly
to abridge.

Prince Karl's intentions towards Frankfurt-on-Oder Country, through
the Lausitz, are now becoming practically manifest. There is a
Magazine for him at Guben, within thirty miles of Frankfurt;
arrangements getting ready all the way. A winter march of 150
miles;--but what, say the spies, is to hinder? Prince Karl dreams
not that Friedrich is on the ground, or that anybody is aware.
Which notion Friedrich finds that it will be extremely suitable to
maintain in Prince Karl. Friedrich is now at Adelsdorf, some thirty
miles eastward of the Lausitz Border, perhaps forty or more from
the route Prince Karl will follow through that Province.

"It is a high-lying irregularly hilly Country; hilly, not
mountainous. Various streams rise out of it that have a long
course,--among others, the Spree, which washes Berlin;--especially
three Valleys cross it, three Rivers with their Valleys:
Bober, Queiss, Neisse (the THIRD Neisse we have come upon);
all running northward, pretty much parallel, though all are
branches of the Oder. This is Neisse THIRD, we say; not the Neisse
of Neisse City, which we used to know at the north base of the
Giant Mountains, nor the Roaring Neisse, which we have seen at
Hohenfriedberg; but a third [and the FOURTH and last, "Black
Neisse," thank Heaven, is an upper branch of this, and we have, and
shall have, nothing to do with it!]--third Neisse, which we may
call the Lausitz Neisse. On which, near the head of it, there is a
fine old spinning, linen-weaving Town called Zittau,--where, to
make it memorable, one Tourist has read, on the Town-house, an
Inscription worth repeating: 'BENE FACERE ET MALE AUDIRE REGIUM
EST, To do good and have evil said of you, is a kingly thing.'
Other Towns, as Gorlitz, and seventy miles farther the above-said
Guben, lie on this same Neisse,--shall we add that Herrnhuth stands
near the head of it? The wondrous Town of Herrnhuth (LORD'S-
KEEPING), founded by Count Zinzendorf, twenty years before those
dates; ["In 1722, the first tree felled" (LIVES of Zinzendorf).] 
where are a kind of German Methodist-Quakers to this day, who have
become very celebrated in the interim. An opulent enough, most
silent, strictly regular, strange little Town. The women are in
uniform; wives, maids, widows, each their form of dress.
Missionaries, speaking flabby English, who have been in the West
Indies or are going thither, seem to abound in the place;
male population otherwise, I should think, must be mainly doing
trade elsewhere; nothing but prayers, preachings, charitable
boarding-schooling and the like, appeared to be going on.
Herrnhuth is 'a Sabbath Petrified; Calvinistic Sabbath done into
Stone,' as one of my companions called it." [Tourist's Note
(Autumn, 1852).]

Herrnhuth, of which all Englishmen have heard, stands near the head
of this our third Neisse; as does Zittau, a few miles higher up.
I can do nothing more to give it mark for them. Bober Valley, then
Queiss Valley, which run parallel though they join at last, and
become Bober wholly before getting into the Oder,--these two
Valleys and Rivers lie in Friedrich's own Territory; and are
between him and the Lausitz, Queiss River being the boundary of
Silesia and the Lausitz here. It is down the Neisse that Prince
Karl means to march. There are Saxons already gathering about
Zittau; and down as far as Guben they are making Magazines and
arrangements,--for it is all their own Country in those years,
though most of it is Prussia's now. Prince Karl's march will go
parallel to the Bober and the Queiss; separated from the Queiss in
this part by an undulating Hill-tract of twenty miles or more.

Friedrich has had somewhat to settle for the Southern Frontier of
Silesia withal, which new doggeries of Pandours are invading,--to
lie ready for Prince Karl on his return thither, whose grand
meaning all this while (as Friedrich well knows), is "Silesia in
the lump" again, had he once cut us off from Brandenburg and our
supplies! General Nassau, far eastward, who is doing exploits in
Moravia itself,--him Friedrich has ordered homeward, westward to
his own side of the Mountains, to attend these new Pandour
gentlemen; Winterfeld he has called home, out of those Southern
mountains, as likely to be usefuler here on this Western frontier.
Winterfeld arrived in Camp the same day with Friedrich; and is sent
forward with a body of 3,000 light troops, to keep watch about the
Lausitz Frontier and the River Queiss; "careful not to quit our own
side of that stream,"--as we mean to hoodwink Prince Karl, if
we can!

Friedrich lies strictly within his own borders, for a day or two;
till Prince Karl march, till his own arrangements are complete.
Friedrich himself keeps the Bober, Winterfeld the Queiss; "all pass
freely out of the Lausitz; none are allowed to cross into it:
thereby we hear notice of Prince Karl, he none of us."
Perfectly quiescent, we, poor creatures, and aware of nothing!
Thus, too, Friedrich--in spite of his warlike Manifesto, which the
Saxons are on the eve of answering with a formal Declaration of
War--affects great rigor in considering the Saxons as not yet at
war with him: respects their frontier, Winterfeld even punishes
hussars "for trespassing on Lausitz ground." Friedrich also affects
to have roads repaired, which he by no means intends to travel:--
the whole with a view of lulling Prince Karl; of keeping the mouse-
trap open, as he had done in the Striegau case. It succeeded again,
quite as conspicuously, and at less expense.

Prince Karl--whose Tolpatch doggery Winterfeld will not allow to
pass the Queiss, and to whom no traveller or tidings can come from
beyond that River--discerns only, on the farther shore of it,
Winterfeld with his 3,000 light troops. Behind these, he discerns
either nothing, or nothing immediately momentous; but contentedly
supposes that this, the superficies of things, is all the solid-
content they have. Prince Karl gets under way, therefore, nothing
doubting; with his Saxons as vanguard. Down the Neisse Valley, on
the right or Queiss-ward side of it: Saturday, 20th November, is
his first march in Lusatian territory. He lies that night spread
out in three Villages, Schonberg, Schonbrunn, Kieslingswalde;
[<italic> Feldzuge, <end italic> i. 407 (Bericht von der Action bey
Katholisch-Hennersdorf, &c.).] some ten miles long; parallel to the
Neisse River, and about four miles from it, east or Queiss-ward of
it. Karl himself is rear, at Schonberg; fierce Lobkowitz is centre;
the Saxons are vanguard, 6,000 in all, posted in Villages, which
again are some ten or twelve miles ahead of Prince Karl's forces;
the Queiss on their right hand, and the Naumburg Bridge of Queiss,
where Winterfeld now is, about fifteen miles to east. Their Uhlans
circulate through the intervening space (were much patrolling
needed, in such quiet circumstances), and maintain the due
communication. There lies Prince Karl, on Saturday night, 20th
November, 1745; an Army of perhaps 40,000, dnngerously straggling
out above twenty miles long; and appears to see no difficulty
ahead. The Saxons, I think, are to continue where they are;
guarding the flank, while the Prince and Lobkowitz push forward,
closer by Neisse River. In four marches more, they can be in
Brandenburg, with Guben and their Magazines at hand.

Seeing which state of matters, Winterfeld gives Friedrich notice of
it; and that he, Winterfeld, thinks the moment is come.
"Pontoons to Naumburg, then!" orders Friedrich. Winterfeld, at the
proper moment, is to form a Bridge there. One permanent Bridge
there already is; and two fords, one above it, one below: with a
second Bridge, there will be roadway for four columns, and a swift
transit when needful. Sunday, 21st, Friedrich quits the Bober,
diligently towards Naumburg; marches Sunday, Monday; Tuesday, 23d,
about eleven A.M., begins to arrive there; Winterfeld and passages
all ready. Forward, then, and let us drive in upon Prince Karl;
and either cut him in two, or force him to fight us; he little
thinks where or on what terms. Sure enough, in the worst place we
can choose for him! Friedrich begins crossing in four columns at
one P.M.; crosses continuously for four hours; unopposed, except
some skirmishing of Uhlans, while his Cavalry is riding the Fords
to right and left; Uhlans were driven back swiftly, so soon as the
Cavalry got over. At five in the evening, he has got entirely
across, 35,000 horse and foot: Ziethen is chasing the Uhlans at
full speed; who at least will show us the way,--for by this time a
mist has begun falling, and the brief daylight is done.

Friedrich himself, without waiting for the rear of his force, and
some while before this mist fell (as I judge), is pushing forward,
"a miller lad for his guide," across to Hennersdorf,--Katholisch-
Hennersdorf, a long straggling Village, eight or ten miles off, and
itself two miles long,--where he understands the Saxons are.
Miller lad guides us, over height and hollow, with his best skill,
at a brisk pace;--through one hollow, where he has known the cattle
pasture in summer time; but which proves impassable, and mere
quagmire, at this season. No getting through it, you unfortunate
miller lad (GARCON DE MEUNIER). Nevertheless, we did find passage
through the skirts of it: nay this quagmire proved the luck of us;
for the enemy, trustiug to it, had no outguard there, never
expecting us on that side. So that the vanguard, Ziethen and rapid
Hussars, made an excellent thing of it. Ziethen sends us word, That
he has got into the body of Hennersdorf,--"found the Saxon
Quartermaster quietly paying his men;"--that he, Ziethen, is
tolerably master of Hennersdorf, and will amuse the enemy till the
other force come up.

Of course Friedrich now pushes on, double speed; detaches other
force, horse and foot: which was lucky, says my informant; for the
Ziethen Hussars, getting good plunder, had by no means demolished
the Saxons; but had left them time to draw up in firm order, with a
hedge in front, a little west of the Village;--from which post,
unassailable by Ziethen, they would have got safe off to the main
body, with little but an affront and some loss of goods. The new
force--a rapid Katzler with light horse in the van, cuirassiers and
foot rapidly following him--sweeps past the long Village, "through
a thin wood and a defile;" finds the enemy firmly ranked as above
said; cavalry their left, infantry on right, flanked by an
impenetrable hedge; and at once strikes in. At once, Katzler does,
on order given; but is far too weak. Charges, he; but is counter-
charged, tumbled back; the Saxons, horse and foot, showing
excellent fight. At length, more Prussian force coming up,
cuirassiers charge them in front, dragoons in flank, hussars in
rear; all attacking at once, and with a will; and the poor Saxon
Cavalry is entirely cut to shreds.

And now there remains only the Infantry, perhaps about 1,000 men
(if one must guess); who form a square; ply vigorously their field-
pieces and their fire-arms; and cannot be broken by horse-charges.
In fact, these Saxons made a fierce resistance;--till, before long,
Prussian Infantry came up; and, with counter field-pieces and
musketries, blasted gaps in them; upon which the Cavalry got
admittance, and reduced the gallant fellows nearly wholly to
annihilation either by death or capture. There are 914 Prisoners in
this Action, 4 big guns, and I know not how many kettle-drums,
standards and the like,--all that were there, I suppose. The number
of dead not given. [Orlich, ii. 291; <italic> Feldzuge, <end
italic> i. 400-413.] But, in brief, this Saxon Force is utterly cut
to pieces; and only scattered twos and threes of it rush through
the dark mist; scattering terror to this hand and that.
The Prussians take their post at and round Hennersdorf that night;
--bivouacking, though only in sack trousers, a blanket each man:--
"We work hard, my men, and suffer all things for a day or two, that
it may save much work afterwards," said the King to them; and they
cheerfully bivouacked.

This was the Action of Katholisch-Hennersdorf, fought on Tuesday,
23d November, 1745; and still celebrated in the Prussian Annals,
and reckoned a brilliant passage of war. KATHOLISCH-Hennersdorf,
some ten miles southwest of Naumburg ON THE QUEISS (for there are,
to my knowledge, Twenty-five other Villages called Hennersdorf, and
Three several Towns of Naumburg, and many Castles and Hamlets so
named in dear Germany of the Nomenclatures):--Katholisch-
Hennersdorf is the place, and Tuesday about dusk the time. A sharp
brush of fighting; not great in quantity, but laid in at the right
moment, in the right place. Like the prick of a needle, duly sharp,
into the spinal marrow of a gigantic object; totally ruinous to
such object. Never, or rarely, in the Annals of War, was as much
good got of so little fighting. You may, with labor and peril,
plunge a hundred dirks into your boaconstrictor; hack him with
axes, bray him with sledge-hammers; that is not uncommon: but the
one true prick in the spinal marrow, and the Artist that can
guide you well to that, he and it are the notable and
beneficent phenomena.


Next morning, Wednesday, 24th, the Prussians are early astir again;
groping, on all manner of roads, to find what Prince Karl is doing,
in a world all covered in thick mist. They can find nothing of him,
but broken tumbrils, left baggage-wagons, rumor of universal
marching hither and marching thither;--evidences of an Army fallen
into universal St. Vitus's-Dance; distractedly hurrying to and fro,
not knowing whitherward for the moment, except that it must be
homewards, homewards with velocity.

Prince Karl's farther movements are not worth particularizing.
Ordering and cross-ordering; march this way; no, back again: such a
scene in that mist. Prince Karl is flowing homeward; confusedly
deluging and gurgling southward, the best he can. Next afternoon,
near Gorlitz, and again one other time, he appears drawn up, as if
for fighting; but has himself no such thought; flies again, without
a shot; leaves Gorlitz to capitulate, that afternoon; all places to
capitulate, or be evacuated. We hear he is for Zittau;
Winterfeld with light horse hastens after him, gets sight of him on
the Heights at Zittau yonder, [<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end
italic> iii. 157; Orlich, ii. 296.] "about two in the morning:"
but the Prince has not the least notion to fight. Prince leaves
Zittau to capitulate,--quits silently the Heights of Zittau at two
A.M. (Winterfeld, very lively in the rear of him, cutting off his
baggage);--and so tumbles, pell-mell, through the Passes of Gabel,
home to Bohemia again. Let us save this poor Note from the fire:

"On Saturday night, November 27th, the Prussians, pursuing Prince
Karl, were cantoned in the Herrnhuth neighborhood,--my informant's
regiment in the Town of Herrnhuth itself. [<italic> Feldzuge, <end
italic> i. ubi supra.] Yes, there lay the Prussians over Sunday;
and might hear some weighty expounder, if they liked.
Considerably theological, many of these poor Prussian soldiers;
carrying a Bible in their knapsack, and devout Psalms in the heart
of them. Two-thirds of every regiment are LANDESKINDER, native
Prussians; each regiment from a special canton,--generally rather
religious men. The other third are recruits, gathered in the Free
Towns of the Reich, or where they can be got; not distinguished by
devotion these, we may fancy, only trained to the uttermost by
Spartan drill."

Before the week is done, that "first leg" of the grand Enterprise
(the Prince-Karl leg) is such a leg as we see. "Silesia in the
lump,"--fond dream again, what a dream! Old Dessauer getting
signal, where now, too probably, is Saxony itself?--Ranking again
at Aussig in Bohemia, Prince Karl--5,000 of his men lost, and all
impetus and fire gone--falls gently down the Elbe, to join Rutowski
at least; and will reappear within four weeks, out of Saxon
Switzerland, still rather in dismal humor.

The Prussian Troops, in four great Divisions, are cantoned in that
Lausitz Country, now so quiet; in and about Bautzen and three other
Towns of the neighborhood; to rest and be ready for the old
Dessauer, when we hear of him. The "Magazine at Guben in 138
wagons," the Gorlitz and other Magazines of Prince Karl in the due
number of wagons, supply them with comfortabIe unexpected
provender. Thus they lie cantoned; and have with despatch
effectually settled their part of the problem. Question now is, How
will it stand with the Old Dessauer and his part? Or, better still,
Would not perhaps the Saxons, in this humiliated state, accept
Peace, and finish the matter?

                         Chapter XIV.

                    BATTLE OF KESSELSDORF.

A "Correspondence" of a certain Excellency Villiers, English
Minister at Dresden,--Sir Thomas Villiers, Grandfather of the
present Earl of Clarendon,--was very famous in those weeks; and is
still worth mention, as a trait of Friedrich's procedure in this
crisis. Friedrich, not intoxicated with his swift triumph over
Prince Karl, but calculating the perils and the chances still
ahead,--miserably off for money too,--admits to himself that not
revenge or triumph, that Peace is the one thing needful to him.
November 29th, Old Leopold is entering Saxony; and in the same
hours, Podewils at Berlin, by order of Friedrich, writes to
Villiers who is in Dresden, about Peace, about mediating for Peace:
"My King ready and desirous, now as at all times, for Peace; the
terms of it known; terms not altered, not alterable, no bargaining
or higgling needed or allowable. CONVENTION OF HANOVER, let his
Polish Majesty accede honestly to that, and all these miseries are
commences, on Podewils's part, 28th November; on Friedrich's, 4th
December; ends, on Villier's, 18th December; fourteen Pieces in
all, four of them Friedrich's: Given in <italic> OEuvres de
Frederic, <end italic> iii. 183-216 (see IB, 158), and in many
other Books.]

Villiers starts instantly on this beneficent business; "goes to
Court, on it, that very night;" Villiers shows himself really
diligent, reasonable, loyal; doing his very best now and
afterwards; but has no success at all. Polish Majesty is obstinate,
--I always think, in the way sheep are, when they feel themselves
too much put upon;--and is deaf to everybody but Bruhl.
Bruhl answers: "Let his Prussian Majesty retire from our
Territory;--what is he doing in the Lausitz just now! Retire from
our Territory; THEN we will treat!" Bruhl still refuses to be
desperate of his bad game;--at any rate, Bruhl's rage is yellower
than ever. That, very evening, while talking to Villiers, he has
had preparations going on;--and next morning takes his Master,
Polish Majesty August III., with some comfortable minimum of
apparatus (cigar-boxes not forgotten), off to Prag, where they can
be out of danger till the thing decide itself. Villiers follows to
Prag; desists not from his eloquent Letters, and earnest
persuasions at Prag; but begins to perceive that the means of
persuading Bruhl will be a much heavier kind of artillery.

On the whole, negotiations have yet done little. Britannic George,
though Purseholder, what is his success here? As little is the
Russian Bugbear persuasive on Friedrich himself. The Czarina of the
Russias, a luxurious lady, of far more weight than insight, has
just notified to him, with more emphasis than ever, That he shall
not attack Saxony; that if he do, she with considerable vigor will
attack him! That has always been a formidable puzzle for Friedrich:
however, he reflects that the Russians never could draw sword, or
be ready with their Army, in less than six months, probably not in
twelve; and has answered, translating it into polite official
terms: "Fee-faw-fum, your Czarish Majesty! Question is not now of
attacking, but of being myself attacked!"--and so is now running
his risks with the Czarina.

Still worse was the result he got from Louis XV. Lately, "for
form's sake," as he tells us, "and not expecting anything," he had
(November 15th) made a new appeal to France: "Ruin menacing your
Most Christian Majesty's Ally, in this huge sudden crisis of
invasive Austrian-Saxons; and for your Majesty's sake, may I not in
some measure say?" To which Louis's Answer is also given. A very
sickly, unpleasant Document; testifying to considerable pique
against Friedrich;--Ranke says, it was a joint production, all the
Ministers gradually contributing each his little pinch of irony to
make it spicier, and Louis signing when it was enough;--very
considerable pique against Friedrich; and something of the stupid
sulkiness as of a fat bad boy, almost glad that the house is on
fire, because it will burn his nimble younger brother, whom
everybody calls so clever: "Sorry indeed, Sir my Brother, most
sorry:--and so you have actually signed that HANOVER CONVENTION
with our worst Enemy? France is far from having done so; France has
done, and will do, great things. Our Royal heart grieves much at
your situation; but is not alarmed; no, Your Majesty has such
invention, vigor and ability, superior to any crisis, our clever
younger Brother! And herewith we pray God to have you in his holy
keeping." This is the purport of King Louis's Letter;--which
Friedrich folds together again, looking up from perusal of it, we
may fancy with what a glance of those eyes. [Louis's Original, in
<italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 173, 174 (with a
much more satirical paraphrase than the above), and Friedrich's
Answer adjoined,--after the events had come.]

He is getting instructed, this young King, as to alliances, grand
combinations, French and other. His third Note to Villiers
intimates, "It being evident that his Polish Majesty will have
nothing from us but fighting, we must try to give it him of the
best kind we have." ["Bautzen, 11th December, 1745" (UBI SUPRA).]
Yes truly; it is the ULTIMATE persuasive, that. Here, in condensed
form, are the essential details of the course it went, in this
General Grune, on the road to Berlin, hearing of the rout at
Hennersdorf, halted instantly,--hastened back to Saxony, to join
Rutowski there, and stand on the defensive. Not now in that Halle-
Frontier region (Rutowski has quitted that, and all the
intrenchments and marshy impregnabilities there); not on that
Halle-Frontier, but hovering about in the interior, Rutowski and
Grune are in junction; gravitating towards Dresden;--expecting
Prince Karl's advent; who ought to emerge from the Saxon
Switzerland in few days, were he sharp; and again enable us to make
a formidable figure. Be speedy, Old Dessauer: you must settle the
Grune-Rutowski account before that junction, not after it!

The Old Dessauer has been tolerably successful, and by no means
thinks he has been losing time. November 29th, "at three in the
morning," he stept over into Saxony with its impregnable camps;
drove Rutowski's rear-guard, or remnant, out of the quagmires,
canals and intrenchments, before daylight; drove it, that same
evening, or before dawn of the morrow, out of Leipzig: has seized
that Town,--lays heavy contribution on it, nearly 50,000 pounds
(such our strait for finance), "and be sure you take only
substantial men as sureties!" [Orlich, ii. 308.]--and will, and
does after a two days' rest, advance with decent celerity inwards;
though "One must first know exactly whither; one must have bread,
and preparations and precautions; do all things solidly and in
order," thinks the Old Dessauer. Friedrich well knows the whither;
and that Dresden itself is, or may be made, the place for falling
in with Rutowski. Friedrich is now himself ready to join, from the
Bautzen region; the days and hours precious to him; and spurs the
Old Dessauer with the sharpest remonstrances. "All solidly and in
order, your Majesty!" answers the Old Dessauer: solid strong-boned
old coach-horse, who has his own modes of trotting, having done
many a heavy mile of it in his time; and whose skin, one hopes, is
of the due thickness against undue spurring.

Old Dessauer wishes two things: bread to live upon; and a sure
Bridge over the Elbe whereby Friedrich may join him. Old Dessauer
makes for Torgau, far north, where is both an Elbe Bridge and a
Magazine; which he takes; Torgau and pertinents now his. But it is
far down the Elbe, far off from Bautzen and Friedrich: "A nearer
Bridge and rendezvous, your Highness! Meissen [where they make the
china, only fifty miles from me, and twenty from Dresden], let that
be the Bridge, now that you have got victual. And speedy;
for Heaven's sake, speedy!" Friedrich pushes out General Lehwald
from Bautzen, with 4,000 men, towards Meissen Bridge; Lehwald does
not himself meddle with the Bridge, only fires shot across upon the
Saxon party, till the Old Dessauer, on the other bank, come up;--
and the Old Dessauer, impatience thinks, will never come. "Three
days in Torgau, yes, Your Majesty: I had bread to bake, and the
very ovens had to be built." A solid old roadster, with his own
modes of trotting; needs thickness of skin. [Friedrich's Letters to
Leopold, in Orlich, ii. 431, 435 (6th-10th December, 1745).]

At long last, on Sunday, 12th December, about two P.M., the Old
Dessauer does appear; or General Gessler, his vanguard, does
appear,--Gessler of the sixty-seven standards,--"always about an
hour ahead." Gessler has summoned Meissen; has not got it, is
haggling with it about terms, when, towards sunset of the short
day, Old Dessauer himself arrives. Whereupon the Saxon Commandant
quits the Bridge (not much breaking it); and glides off in the
dark, clear out of Meissen, towards Dresden,--chased, but
successfully defending himself. [See Plan, p. 10.] "Had he but
stood out for two days!" say the Saxons,--"Prince Karl had then
been up, and much might have been different." Well, Friedrich too
would have been up, and it had most likely been the same on a
larger scale. But the Saxon Commandant did not stand out; he glided
off, safe; joined Rutowski and Grune, who are lying about Wilsdruf,
six or seven miles on the hither side of Dresden, and eagerly
waiting for Prince Karl. "Bridge and Town of Meissen are your
Majesty's," reports the Old Dessauer that night: upon which
Friedrich instantly rises, hastening thitherward. Lehwald comes
across Meissen Bridge, effects the desired junction; and all Monday
the Old Dessauer defiles through Meissen town and territory;
continually advances towards Dresden, the Saxons harassing the
flanks of him a little,--nay in one defile, being sharp strenuous
fellows, they threw his rear into some confusion; cut off certain
carts and prisoners, and the life of one brave General, Lieutenant-
General Roel, who had charge there. "Spurring one's trot into a
gallop! This comes of your fast marching, of your spurring beyond
the rules of war!" thinks Old Leopold; and Friedrich, who knows
otherwise, is very angry for a moment.

But indeed the crisis is pressing. Prince Karl is across the Metal
Mountains, nearing Dresden from the east; Friedrich strikes into
march for the same point by Meissen, so soon as the Bridge is his.
Old Leopold is advancing thither from the westward,--steadily hour
by hour; Dresden City the fateful goal. There,--in these middle
days of December, 1745 (Highland Rebellion just whirling back from
Derby again, "the London shops shut for one day"),--it is clear
there will be a big and bloody game played before we are much
older. Very sad indeed: but Count Bruhl is not persuadable
otherwise. By slumbering and sluggarding, over their money-tills
and flesh-pots; trying to take evil for good, and to say, "It will
do," when it will not do, respectable Nations come at last to be
governed by Bruhls; cannot help themselves;--and get their backs
broken in consequence. Why not? Would you have a Nation live
forever that is content to be governed by Bruhls? The gods are
wiser!--It is now the 13th; Old Dessauer tramping forward, hour by
hour, towards Dresden and some field of Fate.

On Tuesday, 14th, by break of day, Old Dessauer gets on march
again; in four columns, in battle order; steady all day,--hard
winter weather, ground crisp, and flecked with snow. The Pass at
Neustadt, "his cavalry went into it at full gallop;" but found
nobody there. That night he encamps at a place called Rohrsdorf;
which may be eight miles west-by-north from Dresden, as the crow
flies; and ten or more, if you follow the highway round by Wilsdruf
on your right. The real direct Highway from Meissen to Dresden is
on the other side of the Elbe, and keeps by the River-bank, a fine
level road; but on this western side, where Leopold now is, the
road is inland, and goes with a bend. Leopold, of course, keeps
command of this road; his columns are on both sides of it, River on
their left at some miles distance; and incessantly expect to find
Rutowski, drawn out on favorable ground somewhere. The country is
of fertile, but very broken character; intersected by many brooks,
making obliquely towards the Elbe (obliquely, with a leaning
Meissen-wards); country always mounting, till here about Rohrsdorf
we seem to have almost reached the watershed, and the brooks make
for the Elbe, leaning Dresden way. Good posts abound in such broken
country, with its villages and brooks, with its thickets, hedges
and patches of swamp. But Rutowski has not appeared anywhere,
during this Tuesday.

Our four columns, therefore, lie all night, under arms, about
Rohrsdorf: and again by morrow's dawn are astir in the old order,
crunching far and wide the frozen ground; and advance, charged to
the muzzle with potential battle. Slightly upwards always, to the
actual watershed of the country; leaving Wilsdruf a little to their
right. Wilsdruf is hardly past, when see, from this broad table-
land, top of the country: "Yonder is Rutowski, at last;--and this
new Wednesday will be a day!" Yonder, sure enough: drawn out three
or four miles long; with his right to the Elbe, his left to that
intricate Village of Kesselsdorf; bristling with cannon;
deep gullet and swampy brook in front of him: the strongest post a
man could have chosen in those parts.

The Village of Kesselsdorf itself lies rather in a hollow; in the
slight beginning, or uppermost extremity, of a little Valley or
Dell, called the Tschonengrund,--which, with its, quaggy brook of a
Tschone, wends northeastward into the Elbe, a course of four or
five miles: a little Valley very deep for its length, and getting
altogether chasmy and precipitous towards the Elbe-ward or lower
end. Kesselsdorf itself, as we said, is mainly in a kind of hollow:
between Old Leopold and Kesselsdorf the ground rather mounts;
and there is perceptibly a flat knoll or rise at the head of it,
where the Village begins. Some trees there, and abundance of cannon
and grenadiers at this moment. It is the southwestern or left-most
point of Rutowski's line; impregnable with its cannon-batteries and
grenadiers. Rightward Rutowski extends in long lines, with the
quaggy-dell of Tschonengrund in front of him, parallel to him;
Dell ever deepening as it goes. Northeastward, at the extreme
right, or Elbe point of it, where Grune and the Austrians stand, it
has grown so chasmy, we judge that Grune can neither advance nor be

MAP/PLAN GOES HERE--book 15 continuation	--page 10--

advanced upon: so we leave him standing there,--which he did all
day, in a purely meditative posture. Rutowski numbers 35,000, now
on this ground, with immensity of cannon; 32,000 we, with only the
usual field-artillery, and such a Tschonengrund, with its half-
frozen quagmires ahead. A ticklish case for the old man, as he
grimly reconnoitres it, in the winter morning.

Grim Old Dessauer having reconnoitred, and rapidly considered,
decides to try it,--what else?--will range himself on the west side
of that Tschonengrund, horse and foot; two lines, wide as Rutowski
opposite him; but means to direct his main and prime effort against
Kesselsdorf, which is clearly the key of the position, if it can.
be taken. For which end the Old Dessauer lengthens himself out to
rightward, so as to outflank Kesselsdorf;--neglecting Grune
(refusing Grune, as the soldiers say):--"our horse of the right
wing reached from the Wood called Lerchenbusoh (LARCH-BUSH)
rightward as far as Freyberg road; foot all between that
Lerchenbusch and the big Birch-tree on the road to Wilsdruf;
horse of the left wing, from there to Roitsch." [Stille (p. 181),
who was present. See Plan.] It was about two P.M. before the old
man got all his deployments completed; what corps of his, deploying
this way or that, came within wind of Kesselsdorf, were saluted
with cannon, thirty pieces or more, which are in battery, in three
batteries, on the knoll there; but otherwise no fighting as yet.
At two, the Old Dessauer is complete; he reverently doffs his hat,
as had always been his wont, in prayer to God, before going in.
A grim fervor of prayer is in his heart, doubtless; though the
words as reported are not very regular or orthodox: "O HERR GOTT,
help me yet this once; let me not be disgraced in my old days!
Or if thou wilt not help me, don't help those HUNDSVOGTE [damned
Scoundrels, so to speak], but leave us to try it ourselves!"
That is the Old Scandinavian of a Dessauer's prayer; a kind of
GODUR he too, Priest as well as Captain: Prayer mythically true as
given; mythically, not otherwise. [Ranke, iii. 334 n.] Which done,
he waves his hat once, "On, in God's name!" and the storm is loose.
Prussian right wing pushing grandly forward, bent in that manner,
to take Kesselsdorf and its fire-throats in flank.

The Prussians tramp on with the usual grim-browed resolution, foot
in front, horse in rear; but they have a terrible problem at that
Kesselsdorf, with its retrenched batteries, and numerous grenadiers
fighting under cover. The very ground is sore against them;
uphill, and the trampled snow wearing into a slide, so that you
sprawl and stagger sadly. Thirty-one big guns, and about 9,000
small, pouring out mere death on you, from that knoll-head.
The Prussians stagger; cannot stand it; bend to rightwards, and get
out of shot-range; cannot manage it this bout. Rally, reinforce;
try it again. Again, with a will; but again there is not a way.
The Prussians are again repulsed; fall back, down this slippery
course, in more disorder than the first time. Had the Saxons stood
still, steadily handling arms, how, on such terms, could the
Prussians ever have managed it?

But at sight of this second repulse, the Saxon grenadiers, and
especially one battalion of Austrians who were there (the only
Austrians who fought this day), gave a shout "Victory!"--and in the
height of their enthusiasm, rushed out, this Austrian battalion
first and the Saxons after them, to charge these Prussians, and
sweep the world clear of them. It was the ruin of their battle;
a fatal hollaing before you are out of the woods. Old Leopold,
quick as thought, noticing the thing, hurls cavalry on these
victorious down-plunging grenadiers; slashes them asunder, into
mere recoiling whirlpools of ruin; so that "few of them got back
unwounded;" and the Prussians storming in along with them,--aided
by ever new Prussians, from beyond the Tschonengrund even,--the
place was at length carried; and the Saxon battle became hopeless.

For, their right being in such hurricane, the Prussians from the
centre, as we hint, storm forward withal; will not be held back by
the Tschonengrund. They find the Tschonengrund quaggy in the
extreme, "brook frozen at the sides, but waist-deep of liquid mud
in the centre;" cross it, nevertheless, towards the upper part of
it,--young Moritz of Dessau leading the way, to help his old Father
in extremity. They climb the opposite side,--quite slippery in
places, but "helping one another up;"--no Saxons there till you get
fairly atop, which was an oversight on the Saxon part. Fairly atop,
Moritz is saluted by the Saxons with diligent musket-volleys;
but Moritz also has musket-volleys in him, bayonet-charges in him;
eager to help his old Papa at this hard pinch. Old Papa has the
Saxons in flank; sends more and ever more other cavalry in on them;
and in fact, the right wing altogether storms violently through
Kesselsdorf, and sweeps it clean. Whole regiments of the Saxons are
made prisoners; Roel's Light Horse we see there, taking standards;
cutting violently in to avenge Roel's death, and the affront they
had at Meissen lately. Furious Moritz on their front, from across
the Tschonengrund; furious Roel (GHOST of Roel) and others in their
flank, through Kesselsdorf: no standing for the Saxons longer.

About nightfall,--their horse having made poorish fight, though the
foot had stood to it like men,--they roll universally away.
The Prussian left wing of horse are summoned through the
Tschonengrund to chase: had there remained another hour of
daylight, the Saxon Army had been one wide ruin. Hidden in
darkness, the Saxon Army ebbed confusedly towards Dresden: with the
loss of 6,000 prisoners and 3,000 killed and wounded: a completely
beaten Army. It is the last battle the Saxons fought as a Nation,--
or probably will fight. Battle called of Kesselsdorf: Wednesday,
15th December, 1745.

Prince Karl had arrived at Dresden the night before; heard all this
volleying and cannonading, from the distance; but did not see good
to interfere at all. Too wide apart, some say; quartered at
unreasonably distant villages, by some irrefragable ignorant War-
clerk of Bruhl's appointing,--fatal Bruhl. Others say, his Highness
had himself no mind; and made excuses that his troops were tired,
disheartened by the two beatings lately,--what will become of us in
case of a third or fourth! It is certain, Prince Karl did nothing.
Nor has Grime's corps, the right wing, done anything except
meditate:--it stood there unattacked, unattacking; till deep in the
dark night, when Rutowski remembered it, and sent it order to come
home. One Austrian battalion, that of grenadiers on the knoll at
Kesselsdorf, did actually fight;--and did begin that fatal
outbreak, and quitting of the post there; "which lost the Battle to
us!" say the Saxons.

Had those grenadiers stood in their place, there is no Prussian but
admits that it would have been a terrible business to take
Kesselsdorf and its batteries. But they did not stand; they rushed
out, shouting "Victory;" and lost us the battle. And that is the
good we have got of the sublime Austrian Alliance; and that is the
pass our grand scheme of Partitioning Prussia has come to?
Fatal little Bruhl of the three hundred and sixty-five clothes-
suits; Valet fatally become divine in Valet-hood,--are not you
costing your Country dear!

Old Dessauer, glorious in the last of his fields, lay on his arms
all night in the posts about; three bullets through his roquelaure,
no scratch of wound upon the old man. Young Moritz too "had a
bullet through his coat-skirt, and three horses shot under him;
but no hurt, the Almighty's grace preserving him."
[<italic> Feldzuge, <end italic> i. 434.] This Moritz is the Third
of the Brothers, age now thirty-three; and we shall hear
considerably about him in times coming. A lean, tall, austere man;
and, "of all the Brothers, most resembled his Father in his ways."
Prince Dietrich is in Leipzig at present; looking to that
contribution of 50,000 pounds; to that, and to other contributions
and necessary matters;--and has done all his fighting (as it
chanced), though he survived his Brothers many years. Old Papa will
now get his discharge before long (quite suddenly, one morning, by
paralytic stroke, 7th April, 1747); and rest honorably with the
Sons of Thor. [Young Leopold, the successor, died 16th December,
1751, age fifty-two; Dietrich (who had thereupon quitted
soldiering, to take charge of his Nephew left minor, and did not
resume it), died 2d December, 1769; Moritz (soldier to the last),
11th April, 1760. See <italic> Militair-Lexikon, <end italic> i.
43, 34, 38,47.]

                          Chapter XV.


Friedrich himself had got to Meissen, Tuesday, l4th; no enemy on his
road, or none to speak of: Friedrich was there, or not yet far
across, all Wednesday; collecting himself, waiting, on the slip,
for a signal from Old Leopold. Sound of cannon, up the Elbe
Dresden-ward, is reported there to Friedrich, that afternoon:
cannon, sure enough, notes Friedrich; and deep dim-rolling peals,
as of volleying small-arms; "the sky all on fire over there," as
the hoar-frosty evening fell. Old Leopold busy at it, seemingly.
That is the glare of the Old Dessauer's countenance; who is giving
voice, in that manner, to the earthly and the heavenly powers;
conquering Peace for us, let us hope!

Friedrich, as may be supposed, made his best speed next morning:
"All well!" say the messengers; all well, says Old Leopold, whom he
meets at Wilsdruf, and welcomes with a joyful embrace; 
"dismounting from his horse, at sight of Leopold, and advancing to
meet him with doffed hat and open arms,"--and such words and
treatments, that day, as made the old man's face visibly shine.
"Your Highness shall conduct me!" And the two made survey together
of the actual Field of Kesselsdorf; strewn with the ghastly wrecks
of battle,--many citizens of Dresden strolling about, or
sorrowfully seeking for their lost ones among the wounded and dead.
No hurt to these poor citizens, who dread none; help to them
rather: such is Friedrich's mind,--concerning which, in the
Anecdote-Books, there are Narratives (not worth giving) of a
vapidly romantic character, credible though inexact. [For the
indisputable part, see Orlich, ii. 343, 344; and <italic> OEuvres
de Frederic, <end italic> iii. 170.] Friedrich, who may well be
profuse of thanks and praises, charms the Old Dessauer while they
walk together; brave old man with his holed roquelaure.
For certain, he has done the work there,--a great deal of work in
his time! Joy looks through his old rough face, of gunpowder color:
the Herr Gott has not delivered him to those damned Scoundrels in
the end of his days.--On the morrow, Friday, Leopold rolled grandly
forward upon Dresden; Rutowski and Prince Karl vanishing into the
Metal Mountains, by Pirna, for Bohemia, at sound of him,--as he had
scarcely hoped they would.

On the Saturday evening, Dresden, capable of not the least defence,
has opened all its gates, and Friedrich and the Prussians are in
Dresden; Austrians and wrecked Saxons falling back diligently
towards the Metal Mountains for Bohemia, diligent to clear the road
for him. Queen and Junior Princes are here; to whom, as to all men,
Friedrich is courtesy itself; making personal visit to the
Royalties, appointing guards of honor, sacred respect to the
Royal Houses; himself will lodge at the Princess Lubomirski's, a
private mansion.

"That ferocious, false, ambitious King of Prussia"--Well, he is not
to be ruined in open fight, on the contrary is ruinous there;
nor by the cunningest ambuscades, and secret combinations, in field
or cabinet: our overwhelming Winter Invasion of him--see where it
has ended! Bruhl and Polish Majesty--the nocturnal sky all on fire
in those parts, and loud general doomsday come--are a much-
illuminated pair of gentlemen.

From the time Meissen Bridge was lost, Prince Karl too showing
himself so languid, even Bruhl had discerned that the case was
desperate. On the very day of Kesselsdorf,--not the day BEFORE,
which would have been such a thrift to Bruhl and others!--Friedrich
had a Note from Villiers, signifying joyfully that his Polish
Majesty would accept Peace. Thanks to his Polish Majesty:--and
after Kesselsdorf, perhaps the Empress-Queen too will!
Friedrich's offers are precisely what they were, what they have
always been: "Convention of Hanover; that, in all its parts;
old treaty of Breslau, to be guaranteed, to be actually kept. To me
Silesia sure;--from you, Polish Majesty, one million crowns as
damages for the trouble and cost this Triple Ambuscade of yours has
given me; one million crowns, 150,000 pounds we will say; and all
other requisitions to cease on the day of signature. These are my
terms: accept these; then wholly, As you were, Empress-Queen and
you, and all surviving creatures: and I march home within a week."
Villiers speeds rapidly from Prag, with the due olive-branch;
with Count Harrach, experienced Austrian, and full powers.
Harrach cannot believe his senses: "Such the terms to be still
granted, after all these beatings and rebeatings!"--then at last
does believe, with stiff thankfulness and Austrian bows.
The Negotiation need not occupy many hours.

"His Majesty of Prussia was far too hasty with this Peace," says
Valori: "he had taken a threap that he would have it finished
before the Year was done:"--in fact, he knows his own mind, MON
GROS VALORI, and that is what few do. You shear through no end of
cobwebs with that fine implement, a wisely fixed resolution of your
own. A Peace slow enough for Valori and the French: where could
that be looked for?--Valori is at Berlin, in complete disgrace;
his Most Christian King having behaved so like a Turk of late.
Valori, horror-struck at such Peace, what shall he do to prevent
it, to retard it? One effort at least. D'Arget his Secretary,
stolen at Jaromirz, is safe back to him; ingenious, ingenuous
D'Arget was always a favorite with Friedrich: despatch D'Arget to
him. D'Arget is despatched; with reasons, with remonstrances, with
considerations. D'Arget's Narrative is given: an ingenuous off-hand
Piece;--poor little crevice, through which there is still to be
had, singularly clear, and credible in every point, a direct
glimpse of Friedrich's own thoughts, in that many-sounding
Dresden,--so loud, that week, with dinner-parties, with operas,
balls, Prussian war-drums, grand-parades and Peace-negotiations.


                     "DRESDEN, 1745" (dateless otherwise, must be
                           December, between 18th and 25th).
"MONSEIGNEUR,--I arrived yesterday at 7 P.M.; as I had the honor of
forewarning you, by the word I wrote to the Abbe [never mind what
Abbe; another Valori-Clerk] from Sonnenwalde [my half-way house
between Berlin and this City]. I went, first of all, to M. de
Vaugrenand," our Envoy here; "who had the goodness to open himself
to me on the Business now on hand. In my opinion, nothing can be
added to the excellent considerations he has been urging on the
King of Prussia and the Count de Podewils.

"At half-past 8, I went to his Prussian Majesty's; I found he was
engaged with his Concert,"--lodges in the Lubomirski Palace, has
his snatch of melody in the evening of such discordant days,--
"and I could not see him till after half-past 9. I announced myself
to M. Eichel; he was too overwhelmed with affairs to give me
audience. I asked for Count Rothenburg; he was at cards with the
Princess Lubomirski. At last, I did get to the King: who received
me in the most agreeable way; but was just going to Supper; said he
must put off answering till to-morrow morning, morning of this day.
M. de Vaugrenand had been so good as prepare me on the rumors of a
Peace with Saxony and the Queen of Hungary. I went to M. Podewils;
who said a great many kind things to me for you. I could only
sketch out the matter, at that time; and represented to Podewils
the brilliant position of his Master, who had become Arbiter of the
Peace of Europe; that the moment was come for making this Peace a
General One, and that perhaps there would be room for repentance
afterwards, if the opportunity were slighted. He said, his Master's
object was that same; and thus closed the conversation by
general questions.

"This morning, I again presented myself at the King of Prussia's.
I had to wait, and wait; in fine, it was not till half-past 5 in
the evening that he returned, or gave me admittance; and I stayed
with him till after 7,"--when Concert-time was at hand again.
Listen to a remarkable Dialogue, of the Conquering Hero with a
humble Friend whom he likes. "His Majesty condescended (A DAIGNE)
to enter with me into all manner of details; and began by
telling me,

"That M. de Valori had done admirably not to come, himself, with
that Letter from the King [Most Christian, OUR King; Letter, the
sickly Document above spoken of]; that there could not have been an
Answer expected,--the Letter being almost of ironical strain;
his Majesty [Most Christian] not giving him the least hope, but
merely talking of his fine genius, and how that would extricate him
from the perilous entanglement, and inspire him with a wise
resolution in the matter! That he had, in effect, taken a
resolution the wisest he could; and was making his Peace with
Saxony and the Queen of Hungary. That he had felt all the dangers
of the difficult situations he had been in,"--sheer destruction
yawning all round him, in huge imminency, more than once, and no
friend heeding;--"that, weary of playing always double-or-quits, he
had determined to end it, and get into a state of tranquillity,
which both himself and his People had such need of. That France
could not, without difficulty, have remedied his mishaps; and that
he saw by the King's Letter, there was not even the wish to do it.
That his, Friedrich's, military career was completed,"--so far as
HE could foresee or decide! "That he would not again expose his
Country to the Caprices of Fortune, whose past constancy to him was
sufficiently astonishing to raise fears of a reverse (HEAR!).
That his ambitions were fulfilled, in having compelled his Enemies
to ask Peace from him in their own Capital, with the Chancellor of
Bohemia [Harrach, typifying fallen Austrian pride] obliged
to co-operate.

"That he would always be attached to our King's interests, and set
all the value in the world on his friendship; but that he had not
been sufficiently assisted to be content. That, observing
henceforth an exact neutrality, he might be enabled to do offices
of mediation; and to carry, to the one side and to the other, words
of peace. That he offered himself for that object, and would be
charmed to help in it; but that he was fixed to stop there. That in
regard to the basis of General Peace, he had Two Ideas [which the
reader can attend to, and see where they differed from the Event,
and where not]:--One was, That France should keep Ypres, Furnes,
Tournay [which France did not], giving up the Netherlands
otherwise, with Ostend, to the English [to the English!] in
exchange for Cape Breton. The other was, To give up more of our
Conquests [we gave them all up, and got only the glory, and our
Cod-fishery, Cape Breton, back, the English being equally
generous], and bargain for liberty to re-establish Dunkirk in its
old condition [not a word of your Dunkirk; there is your Cape
Breton, and we also will go home with what glory there is,--not
difficult to carry!]. But that it was by England we must make the
overtures, without addressing ourselves to the Court of Vienna;
and put it in his, Friedrich's, power to propose a receivable
Project of Peace. That he well conceived the great point was the
Queen of Spain [Termagant and Jenkins's Ear; Termagant's Husband,
still living, is a lappet of Termagant's self]: but that she must
content herself with Parma and Piacenza for the Infant, Don Philip
[which the Termagant did]; and give back her hold of Savoy [partial
hold, of no use to her without the Passes] to the King of
Sardinia." And of the JENKINS'S-EAR question, generous England will
say nothing? Next to nothing; hopes a modicum of putty and
diplomatic varnish may close that troublesome question,--which
springs, meanwhile, in the centre of the world!--

"These kind condescensions of his Majesty emboldened me to
represent to him the brilliant position he now held; and how noble
it would be, after having been the Hero of Germany, to become,
instead of one's own pacificator, the Pacificator of Europe.
'I grant you,' said he, (MON CHER D'Arget; but it is too dangerous
a part for playing. A reverse brings me to the edge of ruin: I know
too well the mood of mind I was in, last time I left Berlin [with
that Three-legged Immensity of Atropos, NOT yet mown down at
Hennersdorf by a lucky cut], ever to expose myself to it again!
If luck had been against me there, I saw myself a Monarch without
throne; and my subjects in the cruelest oppression. A bad game
that: always, mere CHECK TO YOUR KING; no other move;--I refer it
to you, friend D'Arget:--in fine, I wish to be at peace.'

"I represented to him that the House of Austria would never, with a
tranquil eye, see his House in possession of Silesia. 'Those that
come after me,' said he, 'will do as they like; the Future is
beyond man's reach. Those that come after will do as they can.
I have acquired; it is theirs to preserve. I am not in alarm about
the Austrians;--and this is my answer to what you have been saying
about the weakness of my guarantees. They dread my Army; the luck
that I have. I am sure of their sitting quiet for the dozen years
or so which may remain to me of life;--quiet till I have, most
likely, done with it. What! Are we never to have any good of our
life, then (NE DOIS-JE DONC JAMAIS JOUIR)? There is more for me in
the true greatness of laboring for the happiness of my subjects,
than in the repose of Europe. I have put Saxony out of a condition
to do hurt. She owes 14,775,000 crowns of debt [two millions and a
quarter sterling]; and by the Defensive Alliance which I form with
her, I provide myself [but ask Bruhl withal!] a help against
Austria. I would not henceforth attack a cat, except to defend
myself.' ["These are his very words," adds D'Arget;--and well worth
noting.] (Ambition (GLOIRE) and my interests were the occasion of
my first Campaigns. The late Kaiser's situation, and my zeal for
France [not to mention interests again], gave rise to these second:
and I have been fighting always since for my own hearths,--for my
very existence, I might say! Once more, I know the state I had got
into:--if I saw Prince Karl at the gates of Paris, I would not
stir.'--'And us at the gates of Vienna,' answered I promptly, 'with
the same indifference?'--'Yes; and I swear it to you, D'Arget. In a
word, I want to have some good of my life (VEUX JOUIR). What are
we, poor human atoms, to get up projects that cost so much blood?
Let us live, and help to live.'

"The rest of the conversation passed in general talk, about
Literature, Theatres and such objects. My reasonings and
objectings, on the great matter, I need not farther detail: by the
frank discourse his Prussian Majesty was kind enough to go into,
you may gather perhaps that my arguments were various, and not ill-
chosen;--and it is too evident they have all been in vain."--
Your Excellency's (really in a very faithful way)--        D'ARGET.
[Valori, i. 290-294 (no date, except "Dresden, 1745,"--sleepy
Editor feeling no want of any).]

D'Arget, about a month after this, was taken into Friedrich's
service; Valori consenting, whose occupation was now gone;--and we
shall hear of D'Arget again. Take this small Note, as summary of
him: "D'Arget (18th January, 1746) had some title, 'Secretary at
Orders (SECRETAIRE DES COMMANDEMENTS),' bit of pension; and
continued in the character of reader, or miscellaneous literary
attendant and agent, very much liked by his Master, for six years
coming. A man much heard of, during those years of office.
March, 1752, having lost his dear little Prussian Wife, and got
into ill health and spirits, he retired on leave to Paris; and next
year had to give up the thought of returning;--though he still, and
to the end, continued loyally attached to his old Master, and more
or less in correspondence with him. Had got, before long, not
through Friedrich's influence at Paris, some small Appointment in
the ECOLE MILITAIRE there. He is, of all the Frenchmen Friedrich
had about him, with the exception of D'Argens alone, the most
honest-hearted. The above Letter, lucid, innocent, modest,
altogether rational and practical, is a fair specimen of D'Arget:
add to it the prompt self-sacrifice (and in that fine silent way)
at Jaromirz for Valori, and readers may conceive the man. He lived
at Paris, in meagre but contented fashion, RUE DE L'ECOLE
MILITAIRE, till 1778; and seems, of all the Ex-Prussian Frenchmen,
to have known most about Friedrich; and to have never spoken any
falsity against him. Duvernet, the 'M----' Biographer of VOLTAIRE,
frequented him a good deal; and any true notions, or glimmerings of
such, that he has about Prussia, are probably ascribable to
D'Arget." [See <italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xx.
(p. xii of PREFACE to the D'ARGET CORRESPONDENCE there).]

The Treaty of Dresden can be read in Scholl, Flassan, Rousset,
Adelung; but, except on compulsion, no creature will now read it,--
nor did this Editor, even he, find it pay. Peace is made. Peace of
Dresden is signed, Christmas Day, 1745: "To me Silesia, without
farther treachery or trick; you, wholly as you were." Europe at
large, as Friedrich had done, sees "the sky all on fire about
Dresden." The fierce big battles done against this man have, one
and all of them, become big defeats. The strenuous machinations,
high-built plans cunningly devised,--the utmost sum-total of what
the Imperial and Royal Potencies can, for the life of them, do:
behold, it has all tumbled down here, in loud crash; the final peal
of it at Kesselsdorf; and the consummation is flame and smoke,
conspicuous over all the Nations. You will let him keep his own
henceforth, then, will you? Silesia, which was NOT yours nor ever
shall be? Silesia and no afterthought? The Saxons sign, the high
Plenipotentiaries all; in the eyes of Villiers, I am told, were
seen sublimely pious tears. Harrach, bowing with stiff, almost
incredulous, gratitude, swears and signs;--hurries home to his
Sovereign Lady, with Peace, and such a smile on his face; and on
her Imperial Majesty's such a smile!--readers shall conceive it.

There are but Two new points in the Treaty of Dresden,--nay
properly there is but One point, about which posterity can have the
least care or interest; for that other, concerning "The Toll of
Schidlo," and settlement of haggles on the Navigation of the Elbe
there, was not kept by the Saxons, but continued a haggle still:
this One point is the Eleventh Article. Inconceivably small;
but liable to turn up on us again, in a memorable manner. That let
us translate,--for M. de Voltaire's sake, and time coming!
STEUER means Land-Tax; OBER-STEUER-EINNAHME will be something like
Royal Exchequer, therefore; and STEUER-SCHEIN will be approximately
equivalent to Exchequer Bill. Article Eleventh stipulates:

"All subjects and servants of his Majesty the King of Prussia who
hold bonds of the Saxon OBER-STEUER-EINNAHME shall be paid in full,
capital and interest, at the times, and to the amount, specified in
said STEUER-SCHEINE or Bonds." That is Article Eleventh.--
"The Saxon Exchequer," says an old Note on it, "thanks to Bruhl's
extravagance, has been as good as bankrupt, paying with
inconvertible paper, with SCHEINE (Things to be SHOWN), for some
time past; which paper has accordingly sunk, let us say, 25 per
cent below its nominal amount in gold. All Prussian subjects, who
hold these Bonds, are to be paid in gold; Saxons, and others, will
have to be content with paper till things come round again, if
things ever do." Yes;--and, by ill chance, the matter will attract
M. de Voltaire's keen eye in the interim!

Friedrich stayed eight days in Dresden, the loud theme of
Gazetteers and rumors; the admired of two classes, in all
Countries: of the many who admire success, and also of the few who
can understand what it is to deserve success. Among his own
Countrymen, this last Winter has kindled all their admirations to
the flaming pitch. Saved by him from imminent destruction;
their enemies swept home as if by one invincible; nay, sent home in
a kind of noble shame, conquered by generosity. These feelings,
though not encouraged to speak, run very high. The Dresdeners in
private society found him delightful; the high ladies especially:
"Could you have thought it; terrific Mars to become radiant Apollo
in this manner!" From considerable Collections of Anecdotes
illustrating this fact, in a way now fallen vapid to us,--I select
only the Introduction:--

"Do readers recollect Friedrich's first visit to Dresden [in 1728],
seventeen years ago; and a certain charming young Countess
Flemming, at that time only fourteen; who, like a Hebe as she was,
contrived beautiful surprises for him, and among other things
presented him, so gracefully, on the part of August the Strong,
with his first flute?"--No reader of this History can recollect it;
nor indeed, except in a mythic sense, believe it! A young Countess
Flemming (daughter of old Feldmarschall Flemming) doubtless there
might be, who presented him a flute; but as to HIS FIRST flute--?
"That same charming young Countess Flemming is still here, age now
thirty-one; charming, more than ever, though now under a changed
name; having wedded a Von Racknitz (Supreme Gentleman-Usher, or
some such thing) a few years ago, and brought him children and the
usual felicities. How much is changed! August the Strong, where is
he; and his famous Three Hundred and Fifty-four, Enchantress
Orzelska and the others, where are they? Enchantress Orzelska
wedded, quarrelled, and is in a convent: her charming destiny
concluded. Rutowski is not now in the Prussian Army: he got beaten,
Wednesday last, at Kesselsdorf, fighting against that Army. And the
Chevalier de Saxe, he too was beaten there;--clambering now across
the Metal Mountains, ask not of him. And the Marechal de Saxe, he
takes Cities, fights Battles of Fontenoy, 'mumbling a lead bullet
all day;' being dropsical, nearly dead of debaucheries; the most
dissolute (or probably so) of all the Sons of Adam in his day.
August the Physically Strong is dead. August the Spiritually Weak
is fled to Prag with his Bruhl. And we do not come, this time, to
get a flute; but to settle the account of Victories, and give Peace
to Nations. Strange, here as always, to look back,--to look round
or forward,--in the mad huge whirl of that loud-roaring Loom of
Time!--One of Countess Racknitz's Sons happened to leave MANUSCRIPT
DIARIES [rather feeble, not too exact-looking], and gives us, from
Mamma's reminiscences" ... Not a word more. [Rodenbeck, <italic>
Beitrage, <end italic> i. 440, et seq.]

The Peace, we said, was signed on Christmas-day. Next day, Sunday,
Friedrich attended Sermon in the Kreuzkirche (Protestant High-
Church of Dresden), attended Opera withal; and on Monday morning
had vanished out of Dresden, as all his people had done, or were
diligently doing. Tuesday, he dined briefly at Wusterhausen (a
place we once knew well), with the Prince of Prussia, whose it now
is; got into his open carriage again, with the said Prince and his
other Brother Ferdinand; and drove swiftly homeward. Berlin, drunk
with joy, was all out on the streets, waiting. On the Heath of
Britz, four or five miles hitherward of Berlin, a body of young
gentlemen ("Merchants mostly, who had ridden out so far") saluted
him with "VIVAT FRIEDRICH DER GROSSE (Long live Friedrich THE
GREAT)!" thrice over;--as did, in a less articulate manner, Berlin
with one voice, on his arrival there; Burgher Companies lining the
streets; Population vigorously shouting; Pupils of the Koln
Gymnasium, with Clerical and School Functionaries in mass, breaking
out into Latin Song:--
--and what not. [Preuss, i. 220; who cites <italic> Beschreibung
<end italic> ("Description of his Majesty's Triumphant Entry, on
the" &c.) and other Contemporary Pamphlets. Rodenbeck, i. 124.]
On reaching the Portal of the Palace, his Majesty stept down;
and, glancing round the Schloss-Platz and the crowded windows and
simmering multitudes, saluted, taking off his hat; which produced
such a shout,--naturally the loudest of all. And so EXIT King, into
his interior. Tuesday, 2-3 P.M., 28th December, 1745: a King new-
christened in the above manner, so far as people could.

Illuminated Berlin shone like noon, all that night (the beginning
of a GAUDEAMUS which lasted miscellaneously for weeks):--but the
King stole away to see a friend who was dying; that poor Duhan de
Jaudun, his early Schoolmaster, who had suffered much for him, and
whom he always much loved. Duhan died, in a day or two.
Poor Jordan, poor Keyserling (the "Cesarion" of young days):
them also he has lost; and often laments, in this otherwise bright
time. {In <italic> OEuvres, <end italic> xvii. 288; xviii. 141;
IB. 142 (painfully tender Letters to Frau von Camas and others, on
these events).


End of the Project Gutenberg etext of Carlyle's "History of 
Friedrich II of Prussia V" volume 15.


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