FRIEDRICH PURPOSES TO MEND THE KLEIN-SCHNELLENDORF FAILURE: FORTUNES OF
THE BELLEISLE ARMAMENT.
We shall not dwell upon the movements of the French into Germany for the
purpose of overwhelming Austria, and setting up four subordinate little
Sovereignties to take their orders from Louis XV. The plan was of the
mad sort, not recognized by Nature at all; the diplomacy was wide,
expensive, grandiose, but vain and baseless; nor did the soldiering that
followed take permanent hold of men's memory. Human nature cannot afford
to follow out these loud inanities; and, at a certain distance of time,
is bound to forget them, as ephemera of no account in the general
sum. Difficult to say what profit human nature could get out of such
transaction. There was no good soldiering on the part of the French
except by gleams here and there; bad soldiering for the most part, and
the cause was radically bad. Let us be brief with it; try to snatch from
it, huge rotten heap of old exuviae and forgotten noises and deliriums,
what fractions of perennial may turn up for us, carefully forgetting the
rest.
Maillebois with his 40,000, we have seen how they got to Osnabruck, and
effectually stilled the war-fervor of little George II.; sent him home,
in fact, to England a checkmated man, he riding out of Osnabruck by one
gate, the French at the same moment marching in by the other. There
lies Maillebois ever since; and will lie, cantoned over Westphalia, "not
nearer than three leagues to the boundary of Hanover," for a year and
more. There let Maillebois lie, till we see him called away else-wither,
upon which the gallant little George, check-mate being lifted, will
get into notable military activity, and attempt to draw his sword
again,--though without success, owing to the laggard Dutch. Which also,
as British subjects, if not otherwise, the readers of this Book will
wish to see something of. Maillebois did not quite keep his stipulated
distance of "three leagues from the boundary" (being often short of
victual), and was otherwise no good neighbor. Among his Field-Officers,
there is visible (sometimes in trouble about quarters and the like)
a Marquis du Chatelet,--who, I find, is Husband or Ex-Husband to the
divine Emilie, if readers care to think of that! [_Campagnes_ (i. 45,
193); and French Peerage-Books,? DU CHATELAT.] Other known face, or
point of interest for or against, does not turn up in the Maillebois
Operation in those parts.
As for the other still grander Army, Army of the Oriflamme as we have
called it,--which would be Belleisle's, were not he so overwhelmed with
embassying, and persuading the Powers of Germany,--this, since we last
saw it, has struck into a new course, which it is essential to indicate.
The major part of it (Four rear Divisions! if readers recollect) lay at
Ingolstadt, its place of arms; while the Vanward Three Divisions, under
Maurice Comte de Saxe, flowed onward, joining with Bavaria at Passau;
down the Donau Country, to Linz and farther, terrifying Vienna itself;
and driving all the Court to Presburg, with (fabulous) "MORIAMUR PRO
REGE NOSTRO MARIA THERESIA," but with actual armament of Tolpatches,
Pandours, Warasdins, Uscocks and the like unsightly beings of a
predatory centaur nature. Which fine Hungarian Armament, and others
still more ominous, have been diligently going on, while Karl Albert sat
enjoying his Homagings at Linz, his Pisgah-views Vienna-ward; and asking
himself, "Shall we venture forward, and capture Vienna, then?"
The question is intricate, and there are many secret biasings concerned
in the solution of it. Friedrich, before Klein-Schnellendorf time, had
written eagerly, had sent Schmettau with eager message, "Push forward;
it is feasible, even easy: cut the matter by the root!" This, they say,
was Karl Albert's own notion, had not the French overruled him;--not
willing, some guess, he should get Austria, and become too independent
of them all at once. Nay, it appears Karl Albert had inducements of his
own towards Bohemia rather. The French have had Kur-Sachsen to manage
withal; and there are interests in Bohemia of his and theirs,--clippings
of Bohemia promised him as bribes, besides that "Kingdom of Moravia,"
to get his 21,000 set on march. "Clippings of Bohemia? Interests of
Kur-Sachsen's in that Country?" asks Karl Albert with alarm: and thinks
it will be safer, were he himself present there, while Saxony and
France do the clippings in question! Sure enough, he did not push on.
Belleisle, from the distance, strongly opined otherwise; Karl Albert
himself had jealous fears about Bohmen. Friedrich's importunities and
urgencies were useless: and the one chance there ever was for Karl
Albert, for Belleisle and the Ruin of Austria, vanished without return.
Karl Albert has turned off, leftwards, towards his Bohemian Enterprises:
French, Bavarians, Saxons, by their several routes, since the last days
of October, are all on march that way. We will mark an exact date here
and there, as fixed point for the reader's fancy. Poor Karl Albert, he
had sat some six weeks at Linz,--about three weeks since that Homaging
there (October 2d);--imaginary Sovereign of Upper Austria; looking over
to Vienna and the Promised Land in general. And that fine Pisgah-view
was all he ever had of it. Of Austrian or other Conquests earthly
or heavenly, there came none to him in this Adventure;--mere MINUS
quantities they all proved. For a few weeks more, there are, blended
with awful portents, an imaginary gleam or two in other quarters; after
which, nothing but black horror and disgrace, deepening downwards into
utter darkness, for the poor man. Belleisle is an imaginary Sun-god; but
the poor Icarus, tempted aloft in that manner into the earnest elements,
and melting at once into quills and rags, is a tragic reality!--Let us
to our dates:--
"OCTOBER 24th, The Bavarian Troops, who had lain at Mautern on the Donau
some time, forty miles from Vienna and the Promised Land, got under
way again;--not FORWARD, but sharp to left, or northward, towards the
Bohemian parts. Thither all the Belleisle Armaments are now bound; and a
general rallying of them is to be at Prag; for conquest of that Country,
as more inviting than Austria at present. Comte de Saxe, who had lain at
St. Polten, a march to southward of Mautern, he with the Vanward of the
great Belleisle Army, bestirred himself at the same time; and followed
steadily (Karl Albert in person was with Saxe), at a handy distance by
parallel roads. To Prag may be about 200 miles. Across the Mannhartsberg
Country, clear out of Austria, into Bohmen, towards Prag. At Budweis,
or between that and Tabor, Towns of our old friend Zisca's, of which
we shall hear farther in these Wars; Towns important by their
intricate environment of rock and bog, far up among the springs of
the Moldau,--there can these Bavarians, and this French Vanward of
Belleisle, halt a little, till the other parties, who are likewise on
march, get within distance."
For in these same days, as hinted above, the Rearward of the Belleisle
Army (Four Divisions, strength not accurately given) pushes forward from
Donauworth, well rested, through the Bavarian Passes, towards Bohemia
and Prag: these have a longer march (say 250 miles)? to northeast; and
the leader of them is one Polastron, destined unhappily to meet us on a
future occasion. With them go certain other Bavarians; accompanying or
preceding, as in the Vanward case. And then the Saxons (21,000 strong,
a fine little Army, all that Saxony has) are, at the same time, come
across the Metal Mountains (ERZGEBIRGE), in quest of those Bohemian
clippings, of that Kingdom of Moravia: and march from the westward
upon Prag,--Rutowsky leading them. Comte de Rutowsky, Comte de Saxe's
Half-Brother, one of the Three Hundred and Fifty-four:--with whom is
CHEVALIER de Saxe, a second younger ditto; and I think there is still a
third, who shall go unnamed. In this grand Oriflamme Expedition, Four
of the Royal-Saxon Bastards altogether." Who cost us more distinguishing
than they are worth!
Chief General of these Saxons, says an Authentic Author, is Rutowsky;
got from a Polish mother, I should guess: he commands in chief
here;--once had a regiment under Friedrich Wilhelm, for a while; but
has not much head for strategy, it may be feared. But mark that Fourth
individual of the Three Hundred and Fifty-four, who has a great deal.
Fourth individual, called Comte de Saxe, who is now in that French
Vanward a good way to east, was (must I again remind you!) the produce
of the fair Aurora von Konigsmark, Sister of the Konigsmark who vanished
instantaneously from the light of day at Hanover long since, and has
never reappeared more. It was in search of him that Aurora, who was
indeed a shining creature (terribly insolvent all her life, whose charms
even Charles XII. durst not front), came to Dresden; and,--in this
Comte de Saxe, men see the result. Tall enough, restless enough; most
eupeptic, brisk, with a great deal of wild faculty,--running to
waste, nearly all. There, with his black arched eyebrows, black swift
physically smiling eyes, stands Monseigneur le Comte, one of the
strongest-bodied and most dissolute-minded men now living on our Planet.
He is now turned of forty: no man has been in such adventures, has swum
through such seas of transcendent eupepticity determined to have its
fill. In this new Quasi-sacred French Enterprise, under the Banner
of Belleisle and the Chateauroux, he has at last, after many trials,
unconsciously found his culmination: and will do exploits of a wonderful
nature,--very worthy of said Banner and its patrons.
"Here, then, are Three streams or Armaments pouring forward upon Prag;
perhaps some 60,000 men in all:--a good deal uncertain what they are to
do at Prag, except arrive simultaneously so far as possible. Belleisle,
far off, has fallen sick in these critical days. Comte de Saxe cannot
see his way in the matter at all: 'What are we to live upon,' asks Comte
de Saxe, 'were there nothing more!'--For, simultaneously with these
Three Armaments on march, there is an important Austrian one, likewise
on the road for Prag: that of Grand-Duke Franz, who has left Presburg,
with say 30,000 (including the Pandour element); and duly meets the
Neipperg, or late Silesian Army;--well capable, now, to do a stroke
upon the Three Armaments, if he be speedy? 'November 7th' it was when
Grand-Duke Franz picked up Neipperg, 'at Frating' deep in Moravia
(November 7th, the very day while Friedrich was getting homaged in
Breslau), and turned him northwestward again. The Grand-Duke, in such
strength, marches Rag-ward what he can; might be there before the
French, were he swift; and is at any rate in disagreeable proximity to
that Budmeis-Tabor Country, appointed as one's halting-place."
And Belleisle, in these critical days, is--consider it!--"Poor
Belleisle, he has all the Election Votes ready; he has done unspeakable
labors in the diplomatic way; and leaves Europe in ebullition and
conflagration behind him. He has all these Armies in motion, and has got
rid of 'that Moravia,'--given it to Saxony, who adds the title 'King of
Moravia' to his other dignities, and has set on march those 21,000 men.
'Would he were ready with them!' Belleisle had been saying, ever since
the Treaty for them,--Treaty was, September 19th. Belleisle, to expedite
him, came to Dresden [what day is not said, but deep in October];
intending next for the Prag Country, there to commence General, the
diplomacies being satisfactorily done. Valori ran over from Berlin to
wait upon him there. Alas, the Saxons are on march, or nearly so; but
the great man himself, worn down with these Herculean labors, has fallen
into rheumatic fever; is in bed, out at Hubertsburg (serene Country
Palace of his Moravian Polish Majesty); and cannot get the least well,
to march in person with the Three Armaments, with the flood of things he
has set reeling and whirling at such rate.
"The sympathies of Valori go deep at this spectacle. The Alcides, who
was carrying the axis of the world, fallen down in physical rheumatism!
But what can sympathies avail? The great man sees the Saxons march
without him. The great man, getting no alleviation from physicians,
determines, in his patriotic heroism, to surrender glory itself; writes
home to Court, 'That he is lamed, disabled utterly; that they must
nominate another General.' And they nominate another; nominate Broglio,
the fat choleric Marshal, of Italian breed and physiognomy, whom we
saw at Strasburg last year, when Friedrich was there. Broglio will quit
Strasburg too soon, and come. A man fierce in fighting, skilled too in
tactics; totally incompetent in strategy, or the art of LEADING armies,
and managing campaigns;--defective in intelligence indeed, not wise to
discern; dim of vision, violent of temper; subject to sudden cranks, a
headlong, very positive, loud, dull and angry kind of man; with whose
tumultuous imbecilities the great Belleisle will be sore tried by and
by. 'I reckon this,' Valori says, 'the root of all our woes;' this
Letter which the great Belleisle wrote home to Court. Let men mark it,
therefore, as a cardinal point,--and snatch out the date, when they have
opportunity upon the Archives of France. [See Valori, i. 131.]
"Monseigneur the Comte de Saxe, before quitting the Vienna Countries,
had left some 10,000 French and Bavarians, posted chiefly in Linz, under
a Comte de Segur, to maintain those Donau Conquests, which have cost
only the trouble of marching into them. Count Khevenhuller has ceased
working at the ramparts of Vienna, nothing of siege to be apprehended
now, civic terror joyfully vanishing again; and busies himself
collecting an Army at Vienna, with intent of looking into those same
French Segurs, before long. It is probable the so-called Conquests on
the Donau will not be very permanent.
"NOVEMBER 19th-21st, The Three Belleisle Armaments, Karl Albert's first,
have, simultaneously enough for the case, arrived on three sides of
Prag; and lie looking into it,--extremely uncertain what to do when
there. To Comte de Saxe, to Schmettau, who is still here, the outlook
of this grand Belleisle Army, standing shelterless, provisionless, grim
winter at hand, long hundreds of miles from home or help, is in the
highest degree questionable, though the others seem to make little of
it: 'Fight the Grand-Duke when he comes,' say they; 'beat him, and--'
'Or suppose, he won't fight? Or suppose, we are beaten by him?' answer
Saxe and Schmettau, like men of knowledge, in the same boat with men of
none. (We have no strong place, or footing in this Country: what are we
to do? Take Prag!' advises Comte de Saxe, with earnestness, day after
day. [His Letters on it to Karl Albert and others (in Espagnac, i.
94-99).)] 'Take Prag: but how?' answer they. 'By escalade, by surprise,
and sword in hand, answers he: 'Ogilvy their General has but 3,000, and
is perhaps no wizard at his trade: we can do it, thus and thus, and
then farther thus; and I perceive we are a lost Army if we don't!'
So counsels Maurice Comte de Saxe, brilliant, fervent in his military
views;--and, before it is quite too late, Schmettau and he persuade
Karl Albert, persuade Rutowsky chief of the Saxons; and Count Polastron,
Gaisson or whatever subaltern Counts there are, of French type, have to
accede, and be saved in spite of themselves. And so,
"SATURDAY NIGHT, 25th NOVEMBER, 1741, brightest of moonshiny nights, our
dispositions are all made: Several attacks, three if I remember; one of
them false, under some Polastron, Gaisson, from the south side; a couple
of them true, from the northwest and the southeast sides, under Maurice
with his French, and Rutowsky with his Saxons, these two. And there
is great marching 'on the side of the Karl-Thor (Charles-Gate),' where
Rutowsky is; and by Count Maurice 'behind the Wischerad;'--and shortly
after midnight the grand game begins. That French-Polastron attack,
false, though with dreadful cannonade from the south, attracts poor
Ogilvy with almost all his forces to that quarter; while the couple of
Saxon Captains (Rutowsky not at once successful, Maurice with his French
completely so) break in upon Ogilvy from rearward, on the right flank
and on the left; and ruin the poor man. Military readers will find the
whole detail of it well given in Espagnac. Looser account is to be had
in the Book they call Mauvillon's." [_Derniere Guerre de Boheme,_
i. 252-264. Saxe's own Account (Letter to Chevalier de Folard) is in
Espagnac, i. 89 et seqq.]
One thing I remember always: the bright moonlight; steeples of Prag
towering serene in silvery silence, and on a sudden the wreaths of
volcanic fire breaking out all round them. The opposition was but
trifling, null in some places, poor Ogilvy being nothing of a wizard,
and his garrison very small. It fell chiefly on Rutowsky; who met it
with creditable vigor, till relieved by the others. Comte Maurice, too,
did a shifty thing. Circling round by the outside of the Wischerad, by
rural roads in the bright moonshine, he had got to the Wall at
last, hollow slope and sheer wall; and was putting-to his
scaling-ladders,--when, by ill luck, they proved too short! Ten feet or
so; hopelessly too short. Casting his head round, Maurice notices the
Gallows hard by: "There, see you, are a few short ladders: MES ENFANS,
bring me these, and we will splice with rope!" Supplemented by the
gallows, Maurice soon gets in, cuts down the one poor sentry; rushes
to the Market-place, finds all his Brothers rushing, embraces them with
"VICTOIRE!" and "You see I am eldest; bound to be foremost of you!"
"No point in all the War made a finer blaze in the French imagination,
or figured better in the French gazettes, than this of the Scalade of
Prag, 25th November, 1741. And surely it was important to get hold of
Prag; nevertheless, intrinsically it is no great thing, but an opportune
small thing, done by the Comte de Saxe, in spite of such contradiction
as we saw."
It was while news of this exploit was posting towards Berlin, but
not yet arrived there, that Friedrich, passing through the apartment,
intimated to Hyndford, "Milord, all is divulged, our Klein-Schnellendorf
mystery public as the house-tops;" and vanished with a shrug of the
shoulders,--thinking doubtless to himself, "What is OUR next move to be,
in consequence?" Treaty with Kur-Baiern (November 4th) he had already
signed in consequence, expressly declaring for Kur-Baiern, and the
French intentions towards him. This news from Prag--Prag handsomely
captured, if Vienna had been foolishly neglected--put him upon a new
Adventure, of which in following Chapters we shall hear more.
THE FRENCH SAFE IN PRAG; KAISERWAHL JUST COMING ON.
Grand-Duke Franz, with that respectable amount of Army under him, ought
surely to have advanced on Prag, and done some stroke of war for relief
of it, while time yet was. Grand-Duke Franz, his Brother Karl with him
and his old Tutor Neipperg, both of whom are thought to have some skill
in war, did advance accordingly. But then withal there was risk at Prag;
and he always paused again, and waited to consider. From Frating, on the
16th, [Espagnac, i. 87.] he had got to Neuhaus, quite across Mahren into
Bohemian ground, and there joined with Lobkowitz and what Bohemian
force there was; by this time an Army which you would have called much
stronger than the French. Forward, therefore! Yes; but with pauses, with
considerations. Pause of two days at Neuhaus; thence to Tabor (famed
Zisca's Tabor), a safe post, where again pause three days. From Tabor
is broad highway to Prag, only sixty miles off now:--screwing their
resolution to the sticking-point, Grand-Duke and Consorts advance at
length with fixed determination, all Friday, all Saturday (November
24th, 25th), part of Sunday too, not thinking it shall be only PART;
and their light troops are almost within sight of Prag, when--they learn
that Prag is scaladed the night before, and quite settled; that there
is nothing except destruction to be looked for in Prag! Back again,
therefore, to the Tabor-and-Budweis land. They strike into that boggy
broken country about Budweis, some 120 miles south of Prag; and will
there wait the signs of the times.
Grand-Duke Franz had seen war, under Seckendorf, under Wallis and
otherwise, in the disastrous Turk Countries; but, though willing
enough, was never much of a soldier: as to Neipperg, among his own men
especially, the one cry is, He ought to go about his business out of
Austrian Armies, as an imbecile and even a traitor. "Is it conceivable
that Friedrich could have beaten us, in that manner, except by buying
Neipperg in the first place? Neipperg and the generality of them, in
that luckless Silesian Business? Glogau scaladed with the loss of half
a dozen men; Brieg gone within a week; Neisse ditto: and Mollwitz, above
all, where, in spite of Romer and such Horse-charging as was never seen,
we had to melt, dissolve, and roll away in the glitter of the evening
sun!" The common notion is, they are traitors, partial-traitors, one
and all. [_Guerre de Boheme,_ saepius.] Poor Neipperg he has seen hard
service, had ugly work to do: it was he that gave away Belgrade to the
Turks (so interpreting his orders), and the Grand Vizier, calling him
Dog of a Giaour: spat in his face, not far from hanging him; and the
Kaiser and Vienna people, on his coming home, threw him into prison, and
were near cutting off his head. And again, after such sleety marchings
through the Mountains, he has had to dissolve at Mollwitz; float away in
military deluge in the manner we saw. And now, next winter, here is he
lodged among the upland bogs at Budweis, escorted by mere curses. What
a life is the soldier's, like other men's; what a master is the world!
Aulic Cabinet is not all-wise; but may readily be wiser than the vulgar,
and, with a Maria Theresa at his head, it is incapable of truculent
impiety like that. Neipperg, guilty of not being a Eugene, is not hanged
as a traitor; but placed quietly as Commandant in Luxemburg, spends
there the afternoon of his life, in a more commodious manner. Friedrich
had, of late, rather admired his movements on the Neisse River; and
found him a stiff article to deal with.
The French, now with Prag for their place of arms, stretched themselves
as far as Pisek, some seventy miles southwestward; occupied Pisek,
Pilsen and other Towns and posts, on the southwest side, some seventy
miles from Prag; looking towards the Bavarian Passes and homeward
succors that might come: the Saxons, a while after, got as far as
Teutschbrod, eighty miles on the southeastward or Moravian hand. Behind
these outposts, Prag may be considered to hang on Silesia, and have
Friedrich for security. This, in front or as forecourt of Friedrich's
Silesia, this inconsiderable section, was all of Bohemian Country the
French and Confederates ever held, and they did not hold this long. As
for Karl Albert, he had his new pleasant Dream of Sovereignty at Prag;
Titular of Upper Austria, and now of Bohmen as well; and enjoyed his
Feast of the Barmecide, and glorious repose in the captured Metropolis,
after difficulty overcome. December 7th, he was homaged (a good few of
the Nobility attending, for which they smarted afterwards), with much
processioning, blaring and TE-DEUM-ing: on the 19th he rolled off, home
to Munchen; there to await still higher Romish-Imperial glories, which
it is hoped are now at hand.
A day or two after the Capture of Prag, Marechal de Belleisle, partially
cured of his rheumatisms, had hastened to appear in that City; and for
above four weeks he continued there, settling, arranging, ordering all
things, in the most consummate manner, with that fine military head of
his. About Christmas time, arrived Marechal de Broglio, his unfortunate
successor or substitute; to whom he made everything over; and hastened
off for Frankfurt, where the final crisis of KAISERWAHL is now at
hand, and the topstone of his work is to be brought out with shouting.
Marechal de Broglio had an unquiet Winter of it in his new command; and
did not extend his quarters, but the contrary.
BROGLIO HAS A BIVOUAC OF PISEK; KHEVENHULLER LOOKS IN UPON THE DONAU
CONQUESTS.
Grand-Duke Franz edged himself at last a little out of that
Tabor-Budweis region, and began looking Prag-ward again;--hung about,
for some time, with his Hungarian light-troops scouring the country;
but still keeping Prag respectfully to right, at seventy miles distance.
December 28th, to Broglio's alarm, he tried a night-attack on Pisek, the
chief French outpost, which lies France-ward too, and might be vital.
But he found the French (Broglio having got warning) unexpectedly ready
for him at Pisek,--drawn up in the dark streets there, with torrents of
musketry ready for his Pandours and him;--and entirely failed of Pisek.
Upon which he turned eastward to the Budweis-Tabor fastnesses again;
left Brother Karl as Commander in those parts (who soon leaves Lobkowitz
as Substitute, Vienna in the idle winter-time being preferable);--left
Brother Karl, and proceeded in person, south, towards the Donau
Countries, to see how Khevenhuller might be prospering, who is in the
field there, as we shall hear.
Of Pisek and the night-skirmish at Pisek, glorious to France, think
all the Gazettes, I should have said nothing, were it not that
Marechal Broglio, finding what a narrow miss he had made, established a
night-watch there, or bivouac, for six weeks to come; such as never was
before or since: Cavalry and Infantry, in quantity, bivouacking there,
in the environs of Pisek, on the grim Bohemian snow or snow-slush, in
the depth of winter, nightly for six weeks, without whisper of an enemy
at any time; whereby the Marechal did save Pisek (if Pisek was ever
again in danger), but froze horse and man to the edge of destruction
or into it; so that the "Bivouac of Pisek" became proverbial in French
Messrooms, for a generation coming. [_Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 23, &c.]
And one hears in the mind a clangorous nasal eloquence from antique
gesticulative mustachio-figures, witty and indignant,--who are now gone
to silence again, and their fruitless bivouacs, and frosty and fiery
toils, tumbling pell-mell after them. This of Pisek was but one of
the many unwise hysterical things poor Broglio did, in that difficult
position; which, indeed, was too difficult for any mortal, and for
Broglio beyond the average.
One other thing we note: Graf von Khevenhuller, solid Austrian man,
issued from Vienna, December 31st, last day of the Year, with an Army
of only some 15,000, but with an excellent military head of his own, to
look into those Conquests on the Donau. Which he finds, as he expected,
to be mere conquests of stubble, capable of being swept home again at
a very rapid rate. "Khevenhuller, here as always, was consummate in his
choice of posts," says Lloyd; [General Lloyd, _History of Seven-Years
War,_ &c. (incidentally, somewhere).]--discovered where the ARTERIES
of the business lay, and how to handle the same. By choice of posts, by
silent energy and military skill, Khevenhuller very rapidly sweeps Segur
back; and shuts him up in Linz. There Segur, since the first days of
January, is strenuously barricading himself; "wedging beams from house
to house, across the streets;"--and hopes to get provision, the Donau
and the Bavarian streams being still open behind him; and to hold out a
little. It will be better if he do,--especially for poor Karl Albert
and his poor Bavaria! Khevenhuller has also detached through the Tyrol
a General von Barenklau (BEAR'S-CLAW, much heard of henceforth in
these Wars), who has 12,000 regulars; and much Hussar-folk under bloody
Mentzel:-across the Tyrol, we say; to fall in upon Bavaria and Munchen
itself; which they are too like doing with effect. Ought not Karl Albert
to be upon the road again? What a thing, were the Kaiser Elect taken
prisoner by Pandours!
In fine, within a short two weeks or so, Karl Albert quits Munchen, as
no safe place for him; comes across to Mannheim to his Cousin Philip,
old Kur-Pfalz, whom we used to know, now extremely old, but who has
marriages of Grand-daughters, and other gayeties, on hand; which a
Cousin and prospective Kaiser--especially if in peril of his life--might
as well come and witness. This is the excuse Karl Albert makes to an
indulgent Public; and would fain make to himself, but cannot. Barenklau
and Khevenhuller are too indisputable. Nay this rumor of Friedrich's
"Peace with Austria," divulged Bargain of Klein-Schnellendorf, if this
also (horrible to think) were true--! Which Friedrich assures him it is
not. Karl Albert writes to Friedrich, and again writes; conjuring him,
for the love of God, To make some thrust, then, some inroad or other,
on those man-devouring Khevenhullers; and take them from his, Karl
Albert's, throat and his poor Country's. Which Friedrich, on his own
score, is already purposing to do.