The Camp of Muhlberg, called more properly the Camp of Radewitz, towards
which Friedrich Wilhelm, with English Hotham and many dignitaries are
now gone, was one of the sublimest scenic military exhibitions in the
history of the world; leaving all manner of imitation tournaments,
modern "tin-tournaments," out of sight; and perhaps equalling the Field
of the Cloth of Gold, or Barbarossa's Mainz Tournament in ancient times.
It lasted for a month, regardless of expense,--June month of the year
1730;--and from far and wide the idle of mankind ran, by the thousand,
to see it. Shall the thing be abolished utterly,--as perhaps were
proper, had not our Crown-Prince been there, with eyes very open to it,
and yet with thoughts very shut;--or shall some flying trace of the big
Zero be given? Riddling or screening certain cart-loads of heavy
old German printed rubbish, [Chiefly the terrible compilation called
_Helden-Staats und Lebens-Geschichte des, &c. Friedrichs des Andern_
(History Heroical, Political and Biographical of Friedrich the Second),
Frankfurt and Leipzig, 1759-1760, vol, i. first HALF, pp. 171-210. There
are ten thick and thin half-volumes, and perhaps more. One of the most
hideous imbroglios ever published under the name of Book,--without
vestige of Index, and on paper that has no margin and cannot stand
ink,--yet with many curious articles stuffed blindly into the awful
belly of it, like jewels into a rag-sack, or into TEN rag-sacks all in
one; with far more authenticity than you could expect in such case. Let
us call it, for brevity, _Helden-Geschichte,_ in future references.]
to omit the Hotham Despatches, we obtained the following shovelful
of authentic particulars, perhaps not quite insupportable to existing
mankind.
The exact size of the Camp of Radewitz I nowhere find measured; but
to judge on the map, [At p. 214.] it must have covered, with its
appendages, some ten or twelve square miles of ground. All on the Elbe,
right bank of the Elbe; Town of Muhlberg, chief Town of the District,
lying some ten miles northwest; then, not much beyond it, Torgau; and
then famed Wittenberg, all on the northwest, farther down the River: and
on the other side, Meissen with its Potteries not far to the southeast
of you, up the River, on the Dresden hand. Nay perhaps many of
my readers have seen the place, and not known, in their touring
expeditions; which are now blinder than ever, and done by steam, without
even eyesight, not to say intelligence. Precisely where the railway
from Leipzig to Dresden crosses the Elbe,--there, if you happen to
have daylight, is a flat, rather clayey country, dirty-greenish, as if
depastured partly by geese; with a big full River Elbe sweeping through
it, banks barish for a mile or two; River itself swift, sleek and of
flint-color; not unpleasant to behold, thus far on its journey from the
Bohemian Giant-Mountains seaward: precisely there, when you have
crossed the Bridge, is the south-most corner of August the Strong's
Encampment,--vanished now like the last flock of geese that soiled and
nibbled these localities;--and, without knowing it, you are actually
upon memorable ground.
Actually, we may well say; apart from August and his fooleries. For
here also it was, on the ground now under your eye, that Kurfurst Johann
Friedrich the Magnanimous, having been surprised the day before at
public worship in the abovementioned Town of Muhlberg, and completely
beaten by Kaiser Karl the Fifth and his Spaniards and Duke of Alba,
did, on Monday 25th April, 1547, ride forth as Prisoner to meet the said
Kaiser; and had the worst reception from him, poor man. "Take pity on
me, O God! This is what it is come to?" the magnanimous beaten Kurfurst
was heard murmuring as he rode. At sight of the Kaiser, he dismounted,
pulled off his iron-plated gloves, knelt, and was: for humbly taking the
Kaiser's hand, to kiss it. Kaiser would not; Kaiser looked thunderous
tornado on him, with hands rigidly in the vertical direction. The
magnanimous Kurfurst arose therefore; doffed his hat: "Great-mightiest
(GROSSMACHTIGSTER) all-gracious Kaiser, I am your Majesty's prisoner,"
said he, confining himself to the historical. "I AM Kaiser now,
then?" answered the sullen Tornado, with a black brow and hanging
under-jaw.--"I request my imprisonment may be prince-like," said the
poor Prince. "It shall be as your deserts have been!"--"I am in your
power; you will do your pleasure on me," answered the other;--and was
led away, to hard durance and peril of life for five years to come;
his Cousin Moritz, having expertly jockeyed his Electoral dignities
and territories from him in the interim; [De Wette, _Kursgefasste
Lebensgeschichte der Herzoge zu Sachsen_ (Weimar, 1770), pp. I, 33,
73.]--as was told above, long since.
Expert Cousin Moritz: in virtue of which same Moritz, or rather perhaps
in VICE of him, August the Strong is even now Elector of Saxony; Papist,
Pseudo-Papist Apostate King of Poland, and Non-plus-ultra of "gluttonous
Royal Flunkies;" doomed to do these fooleries on God's Earth for a time.
For the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children,--in ways
little dreamt of by the flunky judgment,--to the sixth generation and
farther. Truly enough this is memorable ground, little as King August,
thinks of it; little as the idle tourists think, or the depasturing
geese, who happen to be there.
The ten square miles have been industriously prepared for many months
past; shaved, swept by the best engineer science: every village of
it thoroughly cleaned, at least; the villages all let lodgings at a
Californian rate; in one village, Moritz by name, [Map at page 214.] is
the slaughter-house, killing oxen night and day; and the bakehouee, with
160 mealy bakers who never rest: in another village, Strohme, is the
playhouse of the region; in another, Glaubitz, the post-office: nothing
could excel the arrangements; much superior, I should judge, to those
for the Siege of Troy, and other world-great enterprises. Worthy really
of admiration, had the business not been zero. Foreign Courts: European
Diplomacy at large, wondered much what cunning scheme lay hidden here.
No scheme at all, nor purpose on the part of poor August; only that of
amusing himself, and astonishing the flunkies of Creation,--regardless
of expense. Three temporary Bridges, three besides the regular ferry of
the country, cross the Elbe; for the high officers, dames, damosels and
lordships of degree, and thousandfold spectators, lodge on both sides
of the Elbe: three Bridges, one of pontoons, one of wood-rafts, one of
barrels; immensely long, made for the occasion. The whole Saxon Army,
30,000 horse and foot with their artillery, all in beautiful brand-new
uniforms and equipments, lies beautifully encamped in tents and wooden
huts, near by Zeithayn, its rear to the Elbe; this is the "ARMEE LAGER
(Camp of the Army)" in our old Rubbish Books. Northward of which,--with
the Heath of Gorisch still well beyond, and bluish to you, in
the farther North,--rises, on favorable ground, a high "Pavilion"
elaborately built, elaborately painted and gilded, with balcony stages
round it; from which the whole ground, and everything done in it, is
surveyable to spectators of rank.
Eastward again, or from the Pavilion southeastward, at the right flank
of the Army, where again rises a kind of Height, hard by Radewitz,
favorable for survey,--there, built of sublime silk tents, or solid
well-painted carpentry, the general color of which is bright green,
with gilt knobs and gilt gratings all about, is the: "HAUPT-LAGER,"
Head-quarters, Main LAGER, Heart of all the LAGERS; where his Prussian
Majesty, and his Polish ditto, with their respective suites, are lodged.
Kinglike wholly, in extensive green palaces ready gilt and furnished;
such drawing-rooms, such bedrooms, "with floors of dyed wicker-work;"
the gilt mirrors, pictures, musical clocks; not even the fine
bathing-tubs for his Prussian Majesty have been forgotten. Never did man
or flunky see the like. Such immense successful apparatus, without and
within; no end of military valetaille, chiefly "janizaries," in Turk
costume; improvised flower-gardens even, and walks of yellow sand,--the
whole Hill of Radewitz made into a flower-garden in that way. Nay, in
the Army LAGER too, many of the Captains have made little improvised
flower-gardens in that Camp of theirs, up and down. For other Captains
not of a poetical turn, there are billiards, coffee-houses, and plenty
of excellent beer and other liquor. But the mountains of cavalry hay,
that stand guarded by patrols in the rearward places, and the granaries
of cavalry oats, are not to be told. Eastward, from their open porticos
and precincts, with imitation "janizaries" pacing silent lower down,
the Two Majesties oversee the Army, at discretion; can survey all
things,--even while dining, which they do daily, like very kings! Fritz
is lodged there; has a magnificent bed: poor young fellow, he alone now
makes the business of any meaning to us. He is curious enough to see the
phenomena, military and other; but oppressed with black care: "My Amelia
is not here, and the tyrant Father is--tyrannous with his rattan: ye
gods!"
We could insist much on the notable people that were there; for the
Lists of them are given. Many high Lordships; some of whom will meet
us again. Weissenfels, Wilhelmina's unfavored lover, how busy is he,
commanding gallantly (in the terrific Sham-Battle) against Wackerbarth;
General Wackerbarth, whose house we saw burnt on a Dresden visit, not so
long ago. Old Leopold of Anhalt-Dessau is there, the Old Dessauer;
with four of his Princes; instructed in soldiering, left without other
instruction; without even writing, unless they can pick it up for
themselves. Likely young fellows too, with a good stroke of work in
them, of battle in them, when called for. Young Anspach, lately wedded,
comes, in what state he can, poor youth; lodges with the Prussian
Majesty his Father-in-law; should keep rather quiet, his share of wisdom
being small. Seckendorf with his Grumkow, they also are here, in the
train of Friedrich Wilhelm. Grumkow shoves the bottle with their Polish
and Prussian Majesties: in jolly hours, things go very high there. I
observe they call King August "LE PATRON," the Captain, or "Patroon;"
a fine jollity dwelling in that Man of Sin. Or does the reader notice
Holstein-Beck, Prussian Major-General; Prince of Holstein-Beck; a solid
dull man; capable of liquor, among other things: not wiser than he
should be; sold all his Apanage or Princeship; for example, and bought
plate with it, wherefore they call him ever since "Holstein-VAISSELLE
(Holstein PLATE)" instead of Holstein-Beck. [Busching's _Beitrage,_
iv. 109.] His next Brother, here likewise I should think, being
Major-General in the Saxon service, is still more foolish. He, poor
soul, is just about to marry the Orzelska; incomparable Princess known
to us, who had been her Father's mistress:--marriage, as was natural,
went asunder again (1733) after a couple of years.--But mark especially
that middle-aged heavy gentleman, Prince of Anhalt-Zerbst, Prussian
Commandant of Stettin. Not over rich (would not even be rich if he came
to be reigning Duke, as he will do); attentive at his post in those
parts, ever since the Siege-of-Stralsund time; has done his orders,
fortified Stettin to perfection; solid, heavy taciturn man:--of whom
there is nothing notable but this only, That last year his Wife brought
him a little Daughter, Catharine the name of her. His Wife is a foolish
restless dame, highborn and penniless; let her nurse well this little
Catharine: little Catharine will become abundantly distinguished in a
thirty years hence; Empress of all the Russias that little girl; the
Fates have so appointed it, mocking the prophecies of men! Here too is
our poor unmentionable Duke of Mecklenburg: poor soul, he has left his
quarrels with the Ritterschaft for a week or two, and is here breathing
the air of the Elbe Heaths. His wild Russian Wife, wild Peter's niece
and more, we are relieved to know is dead; for her ways and Peter's have
been very strange! To this unmentionable Duke of Mecklenburg she has
left one Daughter, a Princess Elizabeth-Catherine, who will be called
Princess ANNE, one day: whose fortunes in the world may turn out to be
tragical. Potential heiress of all the Russias, that little Elizabeth or
Anne. Heiress by her wily aunt, Anne of Courland,--Anne with the swollen
cheek, whom Moritz, capable of many things, and of being MARECHAL DE
SAXE by and by, could not manage to fall in love with there; and who
has now just quitted Courland, and become Czarina: [Peter II., her
Cousin-german, died January, 1730 (Mannstein's _Russia_).]--if Aunt Anne
with the big cheek should die childless, as is likely, this little Niece
were Heiress. WAS THUT'S, What matter!--
In the train of King August are likewise splendors of a sort, if we had
time for them. Dukes of Sachsen-Gotha, Dukes of Meiningen, most of the
Dukes that put Sachsen to their name;--Sachsen-Weimar for one; who is
Grandfather of Goethe's Friend, if not otherwise distinguished.
The Lubomirskis, Czartoryskis, and others of Polish breed, shall be
considered as foreign to us, and go unnoticed. Nor are high Dames
wanting, as we see: vast flights of airy bright-hued womankind,
Crown-Princess at the head of them, who lodges in Tiefenau with her
Crown-Prince,--and though plain-looking, and not of the sweetest temper,
is a very high Lady indeed. Niece of the present Kaiser Karl, Daughter
of the late Kaiser, Joseph of blessed memory;--for which reason August
never yet will sign the Pragmatic Sanction, his Crown-Prince having
hereby rights of his own in opposition thereto. She is young; to her
is Tiefenau, northward, on the edge of the Gorisch Heath, probably the
choicest mansion in these circuits, given up: also she is Lady of
"the Bucentaur," frigate equal to Cleopatra's galley in a manner; and
commands, so to speak, by land and water. Supreme Lady, she, of this
sublime world-foolery regardless of expense: so has the gallantry of
August ordered it. Our Friedrich and she will meet again, on occasions
not like this!--What the other Princesses and Countesses, present
on this occasion, were to Crown-Prince Friedrich, except a general
flower-bed of human nature,--ask not; nor even whether the Orzelska was
so much as here! The Orzelska will be married, some two months
hence, [10th August, 1730 (Sir T. Robinson: Despatch from Dresden; in
State-Paper Office).] to a Holstein-Beck; not to Holstein PLATE, but
to his Brother the unfortunate Saxon Major-General: a man surely not of
nice tastes in regard to marriage;--and I would recommend him to keep
his light Wife at home on such occasions. They parted, as we said, in
a year or two, mutually indignant; and the Orzelska went to Avignon,
to Venice and else-whither, and settled into Catholic devotion in
cheap countries of agreeable climate. [See Pollnitz ( _Memoirs,_ &c.),
whoever is curious about her.]
Crown-Prince Friedrich, doubtless, looking at this flower-bed of human
nature, and the reward of happy daring paid by Beauty, has vivid images
of Princess Amelia and her Vice-regency of Hanover; bright Princess and
Vice-regency, divided from him by bottomless gulfs, which need such a
swim as that of Leander across the material Hellespont was but a trifle
to!--In which of the villages Hotham and Dickens lodged, I did not learn
or inquire; nor are their copious Despatches, chronicling these sublime
phenomena from day to day for behoof of St. James's, other than entirely
inane to us at this time. But one thing we do learn from them:
Our Crown-Prince, escaping the paternal vigilance, was secretly in
consultation with Dickens, or with Hotham through Dickens; and this in
the most tragic humor on his side. In such effulgences of luxury and
scenic grandeur, how sad an attendant is Black Care,--nay foul misusage,
not to be borne by human nature! Accurate Professor Ranke has read
somewhere,--does not comfortably say where, nor comfortably give the
least date,--this passage, or what authorizes him to write it. "In that
Pleasure-Camp of Muhlberg, where the eyes of so many strangers were
directed to him, the Crown-Prince was treated like a disobedient boy,
and one time even with strokes (KORPERLICH MISSHANDELT), to make him
feel he was only considered as such. The enraged King, who never weighed
the consequences of his words, added mockery to his manual outrage. He
said, 'Had I been treated so by my Father, I would have blown my brains
out: but this fellow has no honor, he takes all that comes!'" [Ranke,
_Neun Bucher Preussischer Geschichte_ (Berlin, 1847), i. 297.] EINMAL
KORPERLICH MISSHANDELT: why did not the Professor give us time,
occasion, circumstances, and name of some eye-witness? For the fact,
which stands reported in the like fashion in all manner of Histories,
we shall otherwise find to be abundantly certain; and it produced
conspicuous definite results. It is, as it were, the one fact still
worth human remembrance in this expensive Radewitz and its fooleries;
and is itself left in that vague inert state,--irremediable at present.
Beaten like a slave; while lodged, while figuring about, like a royal
highness, in this sumptuous manner! It appears clearly the poor Prince
did hereupon, in spite of his word given to Wilhelmina, make up his
mind to run. Ingenious Ranke, forgetting again to date, knows from the
Archives, that Friedrich went shortly afterwards to call on Graf von
Hoym, one day. Speaking to Graf von Hoym, who is Saxon First-Minister,
and Factotum of the arrangements here, he took occasion cursorily to
ask, Could not a glimpse of Leipzig, among all these fine things, be
had? Order for horses to or at Leipzig, for "a couple of officers"
(Lieutenant Keith and self),--quietly, without fuss of passes and the
like, Herr Graf?--The Herr Graf glances into it with eyes which have a
twinkle in them: SCHWERLICH, Royal Highness. They are very strict about
passes. Do not try it, Royal Highness! [Ranke, ib.; Forster, i. 365, and
more especially iii. 4 (Seckendorf's Narrative there).] And Friedrich
did desist, in that direction, poor youth; but tried it the more in
others. Very busy, in deep secrecy, corresponding with Lieutenant Katte
at Berlin, consulting tragically with Captain Guy Dickens here.--Whether
any hint or whisper came to the Prussian Majesty from Graf von
Hoym? Lieutenant Keith was, shortly after, sent to Wesel to mind his
soldiering there, far down the Rhine Country in the Garrison of Wesel;
[Wilhelmina told us lately (supra, p. 149), Keith HAD been sent to
Wesel; but she has misdated as usual.] better there than colleaguing
with a Fritz, and suggesting to him idle truancies or worse.
With Katte at Berlin the desperate Prince has concocted another scheme
of Flight, this Hoym one being impossible; scheme executable by Katte
and him, were this Radewitz once over. And as for his consultations
with Guy Dickens, the result of them is: Captain Dickens, on the 16th of
June, with eyes brisk enough, and lips well shut, sets out from
Radewitz express for London. This is what I read as abstract of HOTHAM'S
DESPATCH, 16th June, 1730, which Dickens is to deliver with all caution
at St. James's: "Crown-Prince has communicated to Dickens his plan of
escape; 'could no longer bear the outrages of his Father.' Is to attend
his Father to Anspath shortly (JOURNEY TO THE REICH, of which we shall
hear anon), and they are to take a turn to Stuttgard: which latter
is not very far from Strasburg on the French side of the Rhine. To
Strasburg he will make his escape; stay six weeks or a couple of months
(that his Mother be not suspected); and will then proceed to England.
Hopes England will take such measures as to save his Sister from ruin."
These are his fixed resolutions: what will England do in such abstruse
case?--Captain Dickens speeds silently with his Despatch; will find Lord
Harrington, not Townshend any more; [Resigned 15th May, 1730: Despatch
to Hotham, as farewell, of that date.] will copiously open his lips to
Harrington on matters Prussian. A brisk military man, in the prime of
his years; who might do as Prussian Envoy himself, if nothing great were
going on? Harrington's final response will take some deliberating.
Hotham, meanwhile, resumes his report, as we too must do, of the Scenic
Exhibitions;--and, we can well fancy, is getting weary of it; wishing to
be home rather, "as his business here seems ended." [Preceding Despatch
(of 16th June).] One day he mentions a rumor (inane high rumors being
prevalent in such a place); "rumor circulated here, to which I do not
give the slightest credit, that the Prince-Royal of Prussia is to have
one of the Archduchesses," perhaps Maria Theresa herself! Which might
indeed have saved immensities of trouble to the whole world, as well
as to the Pair in question, and have made a very different History for
Germany and the rest of us. Fancy it! But for many reasons, change of
religion, had there been no other, it was an impossible notion. "May
be," thinks Hotham, "that the Court of Vienna throws out this bait to
continue the King's delusion,"--or a snuffle from Seckendorf, without
the Court, may have given it currency in so inane an element as
Radewitz.
Of the terrific Sham-Battles, conducted by Weissenfels on one side and
Wackerbarth on the other; of the charges of cavalry, play of artillery,
threatening to end in a very doomsday, round the Pavilion and the Ladies
and the Royalties assembled on the balconies there (who always go to
dinner safe, when victory has declared itself), I shall say nothing. Nor
of that supreme "attack on the intrenchments:" blowing-up of the very
Bridges; cavalry posted in the woods; host doing its very uttermost
against host, with unheard-of expenditure of gunpowder and learned
manoeuvre; in which "the Fleet" (of shallops on the Elbe, rigged mostly
in silk) took part, and the Bucentaur with all its cannon. Words fail
on such occasions. I will mention only that assiduous King August had
arranged everything like the King of Playhouse-Managers; was seen,
early in the morning, "driving his own curricle" all about, in vigilant
supervision and inspection; crossed the Tub-bridge, or perhaps the
Float-bridge (not yet blown up), "in a WURSTWAGEN;" giving himself (what
proved well founded) the assurance of success for this great day;--and
finally that, on the morrow, there occurred an illumination and display
of fire-works, the like of which is probably still a desideratum.
For the Bucentaur and Fleet were all hung with colored lamplets;
Headquarters (HAUPT-LAGER) and Army-LAGER ditto ditto; gleaming upwards
with their golden light into the silver of the Summer Twilight:--and
all this is still nothing to the scene there is across the Elbe, on our
southeast corner. You behold that Palace of the Genii; wings, turrets,
mainbody, battlements: it is "a gigantic wooden frame, on which two
hundred carpenters have been busy for above six months," ever since
Christmas last. Two hundred carpenters; and how many painters I cannot
say: but they have smeared "six thousand yards of linen canvas;" which
is now nailed up; hung with lamps, begirt with fire-works, no end of
rocket-serpents, catherine-wheels; with cannon and field-music, near and
far, to correspond;--and is now (evening of the 24th June, 1730) shining
to men and gods. Pinnacles, turrets, tablatures, tipt with various fires
and emblems, all is there:
[SMALL MAP IN HERE------missing]
symbolic Painting, six hundred yards of it, glowing with inner light,
and legible to the very owls! Arms now piled useless; Pax, with her
Appurtenances; Mars resting (in that canvas) on trophies of laurel
honorably won: and there is an Inscription, done in lamplets, every
letter taller than a man, were you close upon it, "SIC FULTA MANEBIT
(Thus supported it will stand),"--the it being either PAX (Peace) or
DOMUS (the Genii-Palace itself), as your weak judgment may lead you to
interpret delicate allusions. Every letter bigger than a man: it may be
read almost at Wittenberg, I should think; flaming as PICA written on
the sky, from the steeple-tops there. THUS SUPPORTED IT WILL STAND;
and pious mortals murmur, "Hope so, I am sure!"--and the cannons fire,
almost without ceasing; and the field-music, guided by telegraphs,
bursts over all the scene, at due moments; and the Catherine-wheels fly
hissing; and the Bucentaur and silk Brigantines glide about like living
flambeaus;--and in fact you must fancy such a sight. King August,
tired to the bone, and seeing all successful, retired about midnight.
Friedrich Wilhelm stood till the finale; Saxon Crown-Prince and he,
"in a window of the highest house in Promnitz;" our young Fritz and the
Margraf of Anspach, they also, in a neighboring window, [24th-25th June:
_Helden-Geschichte_ (above spoken of), i. 200] stood till the finale:
two in the morning, when the very Sun was not far from rising.
Or is not the ultimate closing day perhaps still notabler; a day of
universal eating? Debauchee King August had a touch of genuine human
good-humor in him; poor devil, and had the best of stomachs. Eighty
oxen, fat as Christmas, were slain and roasted, subsidiary viands I do
not count; that all the world might have one good dinner. The soldiers,
divided into proper sections, had cut trenches, raised flat mounds, laid
planks; and so, by trenching and planking, had made at once table
and seat, wood well secured on turf. At the end of every table rose
a triglyph, two strong wooden posts with lintel; on the lintel stood
spiked the ox's head, ox's hide hanging beneath it as drapery: and on
the two sides of the two posts hung free the four roasted quarters
of said ox; from which the common man joyfully helped himself. Three
measures of beer he had, and two of wine;--which, unless the measures
were miraculously small, we may take to be abundance. Thus they, in two
long rows, 30,000 of them by the tale, dine joyfully SUB DIO. The two
Majesties and two Crown-Princes rode through the ranks, as dinner went
on: "King of Prussia forever!" and caps into the air;--at length they
retire to their own HAUPT-QUARTIER, where, themselves dining, they can
still see the soldiers dine, or at least drink their three measures and
two. Dine, yea dine abundantly: let all mortals have one good dinner!--
Royal dinner is not yet done when a new miracle appears on the field:
the largest Cake ever baked by the Sons of Adam. Drawn into the
Head-quarter about an hour ago, on a wooden frame with tent over it, by
a team of eight horses; tent curtaining it, guarded by Cadets; now the
tent is struck and off;--saw mortals ever the like? It is fourteen ells
(KLEINE ELLEN) long, by six broad; and at the centre half an ell thick.
Baked by machinery; how otherwise could peel or roller act on such a
Cake? There are five thousand eggs in it; thirty-six bushels (Berlin
measure) of sound flour; one tun of milk, one tun of yeast, one ditto
of butter; crackers, gingerbread-nuts, for fillet or trimming, run all
round. Plainly the Prince of Cakes! A Carpenter with gigantic knife,
handle of it resting on his shoulder,--Head of the Board of Works,
giving word of command,--enters the Cake by incision; cuts it up by
plan, by successive signal from the Board of Works. What high person
would not keep for himself, to say nothing of eating, some fraction
of such a Nonpareil? There is cut and come again for all. Carpenter
advances, by main trench and by side trenches, steadily to word of
command.
I mention, as another trait of the poor devil of an August, full of
good-humor after all, That he and his Royalties and big Lordships having
dined, he gave the still groaning table with all its dishes, to
be scrambled for by "the janizaries." Janizaries, Imitation-Turk
valetaille; who speedily made clearance,--many a bit of precious Meissen
porcelain going far down in society by that means.
Royal dinner done, the Colonel and Officers of every regiment, ranked
in high order, with weapons drawn, preceded by their respective bands of
music, came marching up the Hill to pay their particular respects to
the Majesty of Prussia. Majesty of Prussia promised them his favor,
everlasting, as requested; drank a glass of wine to each party (steady,
your Majesty!), who all responded by glasses of wine, and threw the
glasses aloft with shouts. Sixty pieces of artillery speaking the while,
and the bands of music breathing their sweetest;--till it was done, and
his Majesty still steady on his feet. He could stand a great deal of
wine.
And now--? Well, the Cake is not done, many cubic yards of cake
are still left, and the very corporals can do no more: let the Army
scramble! Army whipt it away in no time. And now, alas now--the time
IS come for parting. It is ended; all things end. Not for about an hour
could the HERRSCHAFTEN (Lordships and minor Sovereignties) fairly tear
themselves away, under wailing music, and with the due emotion.
The Prussian Royalties, and select few, took boat down the River, on the
morrow; towards Lichtenburg Hunting-Palace, for one day's slaughtering
of game. They slaughtered there about one thousand living creatures,
all driven into heaps for them,--"six hundred of red game" (of the stag
species), "four hundred black," or of the boar ditto. They left all
these creatures dead; dined immensely; then did go, sorrowfully sated;
Crown-Prince Friedrich in his own carriage in the rear; Papa in his,
preceding by a few minutes; all the wood horns, or French horns, wailing
sad adieu;--and hurried towards Berlin through the ambrosial night.
[28th June, 1730: _Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 205.]
And so it is all ended. And August the Strong--what shall we say of
August? History must admit that he attains the maximum in several
things. Maximum of physical strength; can break horse-shoes, nay
half-crowns with finger and thumb. Maximum of sumptuosity; really a
polite creature; no man of his means so regardless of expense. Maximum
of Bastards, three hundred and fifty-four of them; probably no mortal
ever exceeded that quantity. Lastly, he has baked the biggest Bannock
on record; Cake with 5,000 eggs in it, and a tun of butter. These things
History must concede to him. Poor devil, he was full of good-humor too,
and had the best of stomachs. His amputated great-toe does not mend:
out upon it, the world itself is all so amputated, and not like mending!
August the Strong, dilapidated at fifty-three, is fast verging towards a
less expensive country: and in three years hence will be lodged gratis,
and need no cook or flunky of either sex.
"This Camp of Radewitz," says Smelfungus, one of my Antecessors,
finishing his long narrative of it, "this Camp is Nothing; and after all
this expense of King August's and mine, it flies away like a dream. But
alas, were the Congresses of Cambrai and Soissons, was the life-long
diplomacy of Kaiser Karl, or the History of torpid moribund Europe in
those days, much of a Something? The Pragmatic Sanction, with all its
protocolling, has fled, like the temporary Playhouse of King August
erected there in the village of Strohme. Much talk, noise and imaginary
interest about both; but both literally have become zero, WERE always
zero. As well talk about the one as the other."---Then why not SILENCE
about both, my Friend Smelfnngus? He answers: "That truly is the thing
to be aimed at;--and if we had once got our own out of both, let both
be consumed with fire, and remain a handful of inarticulate black ashes
forevermore." Heavens, will I, of all men, object!
Smelfungus says elsewhere:--
"The moral to be derived, perhaps the chief moral visible at present,
from all this Section of melancholy History is: Modern Diplomacy is
nothing; mind well your own affairs, leave those of your neighbors well
alone. The Pragmatic Sanction, breaking Fritz's, Friedrich Wilhelm's,
Sophie's, Wilhelmina's, English Amelia's and I know not how many private
hearts, and distracting with vain terrors and hopes the general soul of
Europe for five-and-twenty years, fell at once into dust and vapor,
and went wholly towards limbo on the storm-winds, doing nothing for
or against any mortal. Friedrich Wilhelm's 80,000 well-drilled troops
remained very actual with their firelocks and iron ramrods, and did
a thing or two, there being a Captain over them. Friedrich Wilhelm's
Directorium, well-drilled Prussian Downing Street, every man steady
at his duty, and no wind to be wasted where silence was better, did
likewise very authentically remain,--and still remains. Nothing of
genuine and human that Friedrich Wilhelm did but remained and remains an
inheritance, not the smallest item of IT lost or losable;--and the rude
foolish Boor-King (singular enough!) is found to be the only one that
has gained by the game."--