HOMEWARDS
The travelling Majesty of Prussia went diligently up and down,
investigating ancient Augsburg: saw, I doubt not, the FUGGEREI, or
ancient Hospice of the Fuggers,--who were once Weavers in those parts,
and are now Princes, and were known to entertain Charles V. with
fires of cinnamon, nay with transient flames of Bank-bills on one
old occasion. Saw all the Fuggeries, I doubt not; the ancient
Luther-and-Melanchthon relics, Diet-Halls and notabilities of this
renowned Free Town;--perhaps remembered Margraf George, and loud-voiced
Kurfurst Joachim with the Bottle-nose (our DIRECT Ancestor, though
mistaken in opinion on some points!), who were once so audible there.
One passing phenomenon we expressly know he saw; a human, not a
historically important one. Driving through the streets from place to
place, his Majesty came athwart some questionable quaint procession,
ribbony, perhaps musical; Majesty questioned it: "A wedding procession,
your Majesty!"--"Will the Bride step out, then, and let us see how she
is dressed!" "VOM HERZEN GERN; will have the honor." Bride stept out,
with blushes,--handsome we will hope; Majesty surveyed her, on the
streets of Augsburg, having a human heart in him; and (says Fassmann, as
if with insidious insinuation) "is said to have made her a present." She
went her way; fulfilled her destiny in an anonymous manner: Friedrich
Wilhelm, loudly named in the world, did the like; and their two orbits
never intersected again.--Some forty-five miles south of Augsburg, up
the Wertach River, more properly up the Mindel River, lies Mindelheim,
once a name known in England and in Prussia; once the Duke of
Marlborough's "Principality:" given him by a grateful Kaiser Joseph;
taken from him by a necessitous Kaiser Karl, Joseph's Brother, that now
is. I know not if his Majesty remembers that transaction, now while in
these localities; but know well, if he does, he must think it a shabby
one.
On the same day, 1st August, 1730, we quit Augsburg; set out
fairly homewards again. The route bends westward this time; towards
Frankfurt-on-Mayn; there yachts are to be ready; and mere sailing
thenceforth, gallantly down the Rhine-stream,--such a yacht-voyage, in
the summer weather, with no Tourists yet infesting it,--to end, happily
we will hope, at Wesel, in the review of regiments, and other business.
First stage, first pause, is to be at Ludwigsburg, and the wicked old
Duke of Wurtemberg's; thither first from Augsburg. We cross the Donau at
Dillingen, at Gunzberg, or I know not where; and by to-morrow's sunset,
being rapid travellers, find ourselves at Ludwigsburg,--clear through
Canstatt, Stuttgard, and certainly no Katte waiting there! Safe across
the intermediate uplands, here are we fairly in the Neckar Country, in
the Basin of the Rhine again; and old Duke Eberhard Ludwig of Wurtemberg
bidding us kindly welcome, poor old bewildered creature, who has become
the talk of Germany in those times. Will English readers consent to a
momentary glance into his affairs and him? Strange things are going on
at Lndwigsburg; nay the origin of Ludwigsburg, and that the Duke should
be there and not at Stuttgard, is itself strange. Let us take this
Excerpt, headed LUDWIGSBURG in 1730, and then hasten on:--
LUDWIGSBURG IN 1730.
"Duke Eberhard Ludwig, now an elderly gentleman of fifty-four, has
distinguished himself in his long reign, not by political obliquities
and obstinacies, though those also were not wanting, but by
matrimonial and amatory; which have rendered him conspicuous to his
fellows-creatures, and still keep him mentionable in History, briefly
and for a sad reason. Duke Eberhard Ludwig was duly wedded to an
irreproachable Princess of Baden-Durlach (Johanna Elizabeth) upwards
of thirty years ago; and he duly produced one Son in consequence,
with other good results to himself and her. But in course of time Duke
Eberhard Ludwig took to consorting with bad creatures; took, in fact,
to swashing about at random in the pool of amatory iniquity, as if there
had been no law known, or of the least validity, in that matter.
"Perceiving which, a certain young fellow, Gravenitz by name, who had
come to him from the Mecklenbnrg regions, by way of pushing fortune, and
had got some pageship or the like here in Wurtemberg, recollected that
he had a young Sister at home; pretty and artful, who perhaps might do a
stroke of work here. He sends for the young Sister; very pretty indeed,
and a gentlewoman by birth, though penniless. He borrows clothes for her
(by onerous contract with the haberdashers, it is said, being poor to
a degree); he easily gets her introduced to the Ducal Soirees; bids
her--She knows what to do? Right well she knows what; catches, with her
piquant face, the dull eye of Eberhard Ludwig, kindles Eberhard Ludwig,
and will not for something quench him. Not she at all: How can SHE; your
Serene Highness, ask her not! A virtuous young lady, she, and come of
a stainless Family!--In brief, she hooks, she of all the fishes in the
pool, this lumber of a Duke; enchants him, keeps him hooked; and has
made such a pennyworth of him, for the last twenty years and more, as
Germany cannot match. [Michaelis, iii. 440.] Her brother Gravenitz the
page has become Count Gravenitz the prime minister, or chief of the
Governing Cabal; she Countess Gravenitz and Autocrat of Wurtemberg.
Loaded with wealth, with so-called honors, she and hers, there go they,
flaunting sky-high; none else admitted to more than the liberty of
breathing in silence in this Duchy;--the poor Duke Eberhard Ludwig
making no complaint; obedient as a child to the bidding of his
Gravenitz. He is become a mere enchanted simulacrum of a Duke; bewitched
under worse than Thessalian spells; without faculty of willing, except
as she wills; his People and he the plaything of this Circe or Hecate,
that has got hold of him. So it has lasted for above twenty years.
Gravenitz has become the wonder of Germany; and requires, on these
bad grounds, a slight mention in Human History for some time to
come. Certainly it is by the Gravenitz alone that Eberhard Ludwig is
remembered; and yet, down since Ulrich with the Thumb, [Ulricus POLLEX
(right thumb bigger than left); died A.D. 1265 (Michaelis, iii. 262).]
which of those serene abstruse Beutelsbachers, always an abstruse
obstinate set, has so fixed himself in your memory?--
"Most persons in Wurtemberg, for quiet's sake, have complied with the
Gravenitz; though not without protest, and sometimes spoken protest.
Thus the Right Reverend Osiander (let us name Osiander, Head of the
Church in Wurtemberg) flatly refused to have her name inserted in the
Public Prayers; 'Is not she already prayed for?' said Osiander: 'Do we
not say, DELIVER US FROM EVIL?' said the indignant Protestant man. And
there is one other person that never will comply with her: the lawful
Wife of Eberhard Ludwig. Serene Lady, she has had a sad existence of it;
the voice of her wrongs audible, to little purpose, this long while, in
Heaven and on Earth. But it is not in the power of reward or punishment
to bend her female will in the essential point: 'Divorce, your Highness?
When _I_ am found guilty, yes. Till then, never, your Highness, never,
never,' in steady CRESCENDO tone:--so that his Highness is glad to
escape again, and drop the subject. On which the Serene Lady again falls
silent. Gravenitz, in fact, hopes always to be wedded with the right,
nay were it only with the left hand: and this Serene Lady stands like
a fateful monument irremovably in the way. The Serene Lady steadily
inhabits her own wing of the Ducal House, would not exchange it for
the Palace of Aladdin; looks out there upon the grand equipages, high
doings, impure splendors of her Duke and his Gravenitz with a clear-eyed
silence, which seems to say more eloquently than words, 'MENE, MENE, YOU
are weighed!' In the land of Wurtemberg, or under the Sun, is no reward
or punishment that can abate this silence. Speak of divorce, the
answer is as above: leave divorce lying, there is silence looking forth
clear-eyed from that particular wing of the Palace, on things which the
gods permit for a time.
"Clear-eyed silence, which, as there was no abating of it, grew at last
intolerable to the two sinners. 'Let us remove,' said the Gravenitz,
'since her Serene Highness will not: build a new charming Palace,--say
at our Hunting Seat, among those pleasant Hills in the Waiblingen
region,--and take the Court, out thither.' And they have done so, in
these late bad years; taking out with them by degrees all the Courtier
Gentry, all the RATHS, Government Boards, public businesses; and
building new houses for them, there. ["From 1727 to 1730" was this
latter removal. A hunting-lodge, of Eberhard Ludwig's building,
and named by him LUGWIGSBURG, stood here since 1705; nucleus of the
subsequent palace, with its "Pheasantries," its "Favoritas," &c. &c. The
place had originally been monastic (Busching, _Erdbeschreibung,_ vi.
1519).] Founding, in fact, a second Capital for Wurtemberg, with what
distress, sulky misery and disarrangement, to Stuttgard and the old
Capital, readers can fancy. There it stands, that Ludwigsburg, the
second Capital of Wurtemberg, some ten or twenty miles from Stuttgard
the first: a lasting memorial of Circe Gravenitz and her Ludwig. Has
not she, by her incantations, made the stone houses dance out hither?
It remains to this day a pleasant town, and occasional residence of
sovereignty. WAIBLINGEN, within an hour's ride, has got memorability
on other grounds;--what reader has not heard of GHIBELLINES, meaning
Waiblingens? And in another hour up the River, you will come to
Beutelsbach itself, where Ulrich with the Thumb had his abode (better
luck to him!), and generated this Lover of the Gravenitz, and much other
nonsense loud now and then for the last four centuries in the world!--
"There is something of abstruse in all these Beutelsbachers, from Ulrich
with the Thumb downwards: a mute ennui, an inexorable obstinacy; a
certain streak of natural gloom which no illumination can abolish.
Veracity of all kinds is great in them; sullen passive courage plenty
of it; active courage rarer; articulate intellect defective: hence a
strange stiff perversity of conduct visible among them, often marring
what wisdom they have;--it is the royal stamp of Fate put upon these
men. What are called fateful or fated men; such as are often seen on the
top places of the world, making an indifferent figure there. Something
of this, I doubt not, is concerned in Eberhard Ludwig's fascination; and
we shall see other instances farther down in this History.
"But so, for twenty years, the absurd Duke, transformed into a mere
Porcus by his Circe in that scandalous miraculous manner, has lived; and
so he still lives. And his Serene Wife, equally obstinate, is living at
Stuttgard, happily out of his sight now. One Son, a weakly man, who had
one heir, but has now none, is her only comfort. His Wife is a Prussian
Margravine (Friedrich Wilhelm's HALF-AUNT), and cultivates Calvinism in
the Lutheran Country: this Husband of hers, he too has an abstruse life,
not likely to last. We need not doubt 'the Fates' are busy, and the
evil demons, with those poor fellow-beings! Nay it is said the Circe is
becoming much of a Hecate now; if the bewitched Duke could see it. She
is getting haggard beyond the power of rouge; her mind, any mind she
has, more and more filled with spleen, malice, and the dregs of pride
run sour. A disgusting creature, testifies one Ex-Official gentleman,
once a Hofrath under her, but obliged to run for life, and invoke free
press in his defence: [_Apologie de Monsieur Forstner de Breitembourg,
&c._ (Paris, 1716; or "a Londres, aux depens de la Compagnie, 1745"):
in Spittler, _Geschichte Wurtembergs_ (Spittlers WERKE, Stuttgard und
Tubingen, 1828; vol. v.), 497-539. Michaelis, iii. 428-439, gives (in
abstruse Chancery German) a Sequel to this fine affair of Forstner's.]
no end to the foul things she will say, of an unspeakable nature, about
the very Duke her victim, testifies this Ex-Official: malicious as a
witch, says he, and as ugly as one in spite of paint,--'TOUJOURS UN
LAVEMENT A SES TROUSSES.' Good Heavens!"
But here is the august Prussian Travelling-Party: shove aside your
bewitchments and bewilderments; hang a decent screen over many things!
Poor Eberhard Ludwig, who is infinitely the gentleman, bestirs himself
a good deal to welcome old royal friends; nor do we hear that the
least thing went awry during this transit of the royalties. "Field of
Blenheim, says your Majesty? Ah me!"--For Eberhard Ludwig knows that
ground; stood the World-Battle there, and so much has come and gone
since then: Ah me indeed!
Friedrich Wilhelm and he have met before this, and have much to tell one
another; Treaty of Seville by no means their only topic. Nay the flood
of cordiality went at length so far, that at last Friedrich Wilhelm, the
conscientious King, came upon the most intimate topics: Gravenitz; the
Word of God; scandal to the Protestant Religion: no likely heir to your
Dukedom; clear peril to your own soul. Is not her Serene Highness an
unexceptionable Lady, heroic under sore woes; and your wedded Wife above
all?--'M-NA, and might bring Heirs too: only forty come October:--Ah
Duke, ah Friend! AVISEZ LA FIN, Eberhard Ludwig; consider the end of
it all; we are growing old fellows now! The Duke, I conceive, who was
rather a fat little man, blushed blue, then red, and various colors;
at length settling into steady pale, as it were, indicating anthracitic
white-heat: it is certain he said at length, with emphasis, "I will!"
And he did so, by and by. Friedrich Wilhelm sent a messenger to
Stuttgard to do his reverence to the high injured Lady there, perhaps to
show her afar off some ray of hope if she could endure. Eberhard Ludwig,
raised to a white-heat, perceives that in fact he is heartily tired
of this Circe-Hecate; that in fact she has long been an intolerable
nightmare to him, could he but have known it.
And his Royal Highness the Crown-Prince all this while? Well, yes;
his Royal Highness has got a Court Tailor at Ludwigsburg; and, in all
privacy (seen well by Rochow), has had the Augsburg red cloth cut into
a fine upper wrappage, over coat or roquelaure for himself; intending to
use the same before long. Thus they severally, the Father and the Son;
these are their known acts at Ludwigsburg, That the Father persuaded
Eberhard Ludwig of the Gravenitz enormity, and that the Son got his red
top-coat ready. On Thursday, 3d of August (late in the afternoon, as I
perceive), they, well entertained, depart towards Mannheim, Kur-Pfalz
(Elector Palatine) old Karl Philip of the Pfalz's place; hope to be
there on the morrow some time, if all go well. Gloomy much enlightened
Eberhard takes leave of them, with abstruse but grateful feelings; will
stand by the Kaiser, and dismiss that Gravenitz nightmare by the first
opportunity.
As accordingly he did. Next Summer, going on a visit northward,
specially to Berlin, [There for some three weeks, "till 9th June, 1731,
with a suite of above fifty persons" (Fassmann, pp. 421, 422).] he left
order that the Gravenitz was to be got out of his sight, safe stowed
away, before his return. Which by the proper officers, military certain
of them, was accomplished,--by fixed bayonets at last, and not without
futile demur on the part of the Gravenitz. Poor Eberhard Ludwig, "he
published in the pulpits, That he was now minded to lead a better
life,"--had time now been left him. Same year, 1731, November being
come, gloomy Eberhard Ludwig lost, not unexpectedly, his one Son,--the
one Grandson was gone long since. The serene steadfast Duchess now had
her Duke again, what was left of him: but he was fallen into the sere
and yellow leaf; in two years more, he died childless; [31st October,
1733: Michaelis, iii. 441.] and his Cousin, Karl Alexander, an Austrian
Feldmarschall of repute, succeeded in Wurtemberg. With whom we may
transiently meet, in time coming; with whom, and perhaps less pleasantly
with certain of his children; for they continue to this day,--with the
old abstruse element still too traceable in them.
Old Karl Philip, Kurfurst of the Pfalz, towards whom Friedrich Wilhelm
is now driving, with intent to be there to-morrow evening, is not quite
a stranger to readers here; and to Friedrich Wilhelm he is much the
reverse, perhaps too much. This is he who ran away with poor Prince
Sobieski's Bride from Berlin, at starting in life; who fell upon his own
poor Protestant Heidelbergers and their Church of the Holy Ghost (being
himself Papist, ever since that slap on the face to his ancestor); and
who has been in many quarrels with Friedrich Wilhelm and others. A
high expensive sovereign gentleman, this old Karl Philip; not, I should
suppose, the pleasantest of men to lodge with. One apprehends, he
cannot be peculiarly well disposed to Friedrich Wilhelm, after that sad
Heidelberg passage of fence, twelve or eleven years ago. Not to
mention the inextricable Julich-and-Berg business, which is a standing
controversy between them.
Poor old Kurfurst, he is now within a year of seventy. He has had
crosses and losses; terrible campaignings against the Turk, in old
times; and always such a stock of quarrels, at home, as must have
been still worse to bear. A life of perpetual arguing, squabbling and
battling,--one's neighbors being such an unreasonable set! Brabbles
about Heidelberg Catechism, and Church of the Holy Ghost, so that
foreign Kings interfered, shaking their whips upon us. Then brabbles
about boundaries; about inheritances, and detached properties very
many,--clearly mine, were the neighbors reasonable! In fact this
sovereign old gentleman has been in the Kaiser's courts, or even on the
edge of fight, oftener than most other men; and it is as if that
first adventure, of the Sobieski wedding turned topsy-turvy, had been
symbolical of much that followed in his life.
We remember that unpleasant Heidelberg affair: how hopeful it once
looked; fact DONE, Church of the Holy Ghost fairly ours; your CORPUS
EVANGELICORUM fallen quasi-dead; and nothing now for it but protocolling
by diplomatists, pleading in the Diets by men in bombazine, never like
ending at all;--when Friedrich Wilhelm did suddenly end it; suddenly
locked up his own Catholic establishments and revenues, and quietly
inexorable put the key in his pocket; as it were, drew his own whip,
with a "Will you whip MY Jew?"--and we had to cower out of the affair,
Kaiser himself ordering us, in a most humiliated manner! Readers can
judge whether Kur-Pfalz was likely to have a kindly note of Friedrich
Wilhelm in that corner of his memory. The poor man felt so disgusted
with Heidelberg, he quitted it soon after. He would not go to Dusseldorf
(in the Berg-and-Julich quarter), as his Forefathers used to do; but set
up his abode at Mannheim, where he still is. Friedrich Wilhelm, who
was far from meaning harm or insolence in that Heidelberg affair, hopes
there is no grudge remaining. But so stand the facts: it is towards
Mannheim, not towards Heidelberg that we are now travelling!--For the
rest, this scheme of reprisals, or whipping your Jew if you whip mine,
answered so well, Friedrich Wilhelm has used it, or threatened to use,
as the real method, ever since, where needful; and has saved thereby
much bombazine eloquence, and confusion to mankind, on several
occasions.
But the worst between these two High Gentlemen is that Julich-and-Berg
controversy; which is a sore still running, and beyond reach of probable
surgery. Old Karl Philip has no male Heir; and is like to be (what he
indeed proved) the last of the NEUBERG Electors Palatine. What trouble
there rose with the first of them, about that sad business; and how the
then Brandenburger, much wrought upon, smote the then Neuburger across
the very face, and drove him into Catholicism, we have not forgotten;
how can we ever?--It is one hundred and sixteen years since that
after-dinner scene; and, O Heavens, what bickering and brabbling
and confused negotiation there has been; lawyers' pens going
almost continually ever since, shadowing out the mutual darkness of
sovereignties; and from time to time the military implements brandishing
themselves, though loath generally to draw blood! For a hundred and
sixteen years:--but the Final Bargain, lying on parchment in the
archives of both parties, and always acknowledged as final, was to
this effect: "You serene Neuburg keep what you have got; we
serene Brandenburg the like: Cleve with detached pertinents ours;
Julich-and-Berg mainly yours. And let us live in perpetual amity on that
footing. And, note only furthermore, when our Line fails, the whole of
these fine Duchies shall be yours: if your Line fail, ours." That was
the plain bargain, done solemnly in 1624, and again more solemnly and
brought to parchment with signature in 1666, as Friedrich Wilhelm
knows too well. And now the very case is about to occur; this old
man, childless at seventy, is the last of the Neuburgs. May not one
reasonably pretend that a bargain should be kept?
"Tush," answers old Karl Philip always: "Bargain?" And will not hear
reason against himself on the subject; not even when the Kaiser asks
him,--as the Kaiser really did, after that Wusterhausen Treaty, but
could get only negatives. Karl Philip has no romantic ideas of justice,
or of old parchments tying up a man. Karl Philip had one Daughter by
that dear Radzivil Princess, Sobieski's stolen Bride; and he never, by
the dear Radzivil or her dear successor, [See Buchholz, i. 61 n.] had
any son, or other daughter that lived to wed. One Daughter, we say;
a first-born, extremely precious to him. Her he married to the young
fortunate Sulzbach Cousin, Karl Joseph Heir-Apparent of Sulzbach, who,
by all laws, was to succeed in the Pfalz as well,--Karl Philip thinking
furthermore, "He and she, please Heaven, shall hold fast by Dusseldorf
too, and that fine Julich-and-Berg Territory, which is mine. Bargains?"
Such was, and is, the old man's inflexible notion. Alas, this one
Daughter died lately, and her Husband lately; [She in 1728; he in 1729:
their eldest Daughter was born 1721 (Hubner, t. 140; Michaelis, ii. 101,
123).] again leaving only Daughters; will not this change the notion?
Not a whit,--though Friedrich Wilhelm may have fondly hoped it by
possibility might, Not a whit: Karl Philip cherishes his little
Grand-daughter, now a child of nine, as he did her Mother and her
Mother's Mother; hopes one day to see her wedded (as he did) to a new
Heir-Apparent of the Pfalz and Sulzbach; and, for her behoof, will hold
fast by Berg and Julich, and part with no square inch of it for any
parchment.
What is Friedrich Wilhelm to do? Seek justice for himself by his 80,000
men and the iron ramrods? Apparently he will not get it otherwise. He is
loath to begin that terrible game. If indeed Europe do take fire, as
is likely at Seville or elsewhere--But in the meanwhile how happy if
negotiation would but serve! Alas, and if the Kaiser, England; Holland
and the others, could be brought to guarantee me,--as indeed they
should (to avoid a CASUS BELLI), and some of them have said they will!
Friedrich Wilhelm tried this Julich-and-Berg Problem by the pacific
method, all his life; strenuously, and without effect. Result perhaps
was coming nevertheless; at the distance of another hundred years!--One
thing I know: whatever rectitude and patience, whatever courage,
perseverance, or other human virtue he has put into this or another
matter, is not lost; not it nor any fraction of it, to Friedrich Wilhelm
and his sons' sons; but will well avail him and them, if not soon, then
later, if not in Berg and Julich, then in some other quarter of the
Universe, which is a wide Entity and a long-lived! Courage, your
Majesty!
So stand matters as Friedrich Wilhelm journeys towards Mannheim: human
politeness will have to cloak well, and keep well down, a good many
prickly points in the visit ahead. Alas, poor Friedrich Wilhelm has got
other matter to think of, by the time we arrive in Mannheim.
CATASTROPHE ON JOURNEY HOMEWARDS.
The Royal Party, quitting Ludwigsburg,--on Thursday, 3d August, 1730,
some hours after dinner, as I calculate it,--had but a rather short
journey before them: journey to a place called Sinzheim, some fifty or
sixty miles; a long way short of Heidelberg; the King's purpose being
to lodge in that dilapidated silent Town of Sinzheim, and leave both
Heidelberg and Mannheim, with their civic noises, for the next
day's work. Sinzheim, such was the program, as the Prince and others
understood it; but by some accident, or on better calculation, it was
otherwise decided in the royal mind: not at Sinzheim, intricate decayed
old Town, shall we lodge to-night, but five or six miles short of it, in
the naturally silent Village of Steinfurth, where good clean empty Barns
are to be found. Which latter is a favorite method of his Majesty, fond
always of free air and the absence of fuss. Shake-downs, a temporary
cooking apparatus, plenty of tobacco, and a tub to wash in: this is
what man requires, and this without difficulty can be got. His Majesty's
tastes are simple; simple, and yet good and human. Here is a small Royal
Order, which I read once, and ever since remember,--though the reference
is now blown away, and lost in those unindexed Sibylline Farragos, the
terror of human nature;--let us copy it from memory, till some deliverer
arise with finger on page. [Probably in Rodenbeck's _Beitrage,_--but
long sad searching there, and elsewhere, proves unavailing at present.
Historical Farragos without INDEX; a hundred, or several hundred, blind
sacks of Historical clippings, generally authentic too if useless, and
not the least scrap of LABEL on them:--are not these a handy article!]
"At Magdeburg, on this Review-Journey, have dinner for me, under a
certain Tree you know of, outside the ramparts." Dinner of one
sound portion solid, one ditto liquid, of the due quality; readied
honestly,--and to be eaten under a shady Tree; on the Review-ground
itself, with the summer sky over one's head. Could Jupiter Tonans, had
he been travelling on business in those parts, have done better with his
dinner?--
"At Sinzheim?" thinks his Royal Highness; and has spoken privily to
the Page Keith. To glide out of their quarters there, in that waste
negligent old Town (where post-horses can be had), in the gray of the
summer's dawn? Across the Rhine to Speyer is but three hours riding;
thence to Landau, into France, into--? Enough, Page Keith has undertaken
to get horses, and the flight shall at last be. Husht, husht. To-morrow
morning, before the sparrow wake, it is our determination to be upon the
road!
Ruins of the Tower of Stauffen, HOHEN or High STAUFFEN, where Kaiser
Barbarossa lived once, young and ruddy, and was not yet a MYTH, "winking
and nodding under the Hill at Salzburg,"--yes, it is but a few miles
to the right there, were this a deliberate touring party. But this is
a rapid driving one; knows nothing about Stauffen, cares nothing.--We
cannot fancy Friedrich remembered Barbarossa at all; or much regarded
Heilbronn itself, the principal and only famous Town they pass this day.
The St. Kilian's Church, your Highness, and big stone giant at the top
of the steeple yonder,--adventurous masons and slater people get upon
the crown of his head, sometimes, and stand waving flags. [Buddaus,
_Lexicon,_ ii.? Heilbronn.] The Townhouse too (RATHHAUS), with its
amazing old Clock? And Gotz von Berlichingen, the Town-Councillors
once had him in prison for one night, in the "Gotz's Tower" here; your
Highness has heard of "Gotz with the Iron Hand"? Berlichingens still
live at Jaxthausen, farther down the Neckar Valley, in these parts; and
show the old HAND, considerably rusted now. Heilbronn, the most famous
City on the Neckar; and its old miraculous Holy Well--? What cares his
Highness! Weinsberg again, which is but a few miles to the right of
us,--there it was that the Besieged Wives did that astonishing feat,
600 years ago; coming out, as the capitulation bore, "with their most
valuable property," each brought her Husband on her back (were not the
fact a little uncertain!)--whereby the old Castle has, to this day, the
name "WEIBERTREUE, Faithfulness of Women." Welf's Duchess, Husband on
back, was at the head of those women; a Hohenzollern ancestor of yours,
I think I have heard, was of the besieging party. [Siege is notorious
enough; A.D. 1140: Kohler _Reichshistorie,_ p. 167, who does not
mention the story of the women; Menzel (Wolfgang), _Geschichte der
Deutschen,_ p. 287, who takes no notice that it is a highly mythical
story,--supported only by the testimony of one poor Monk in Koln,
vaguely chronicling fifty years after date and at that good distance.]
Alas, thinks his Royal Highness, is there not a flower of Welfdom now
in England; and I, unluckiest of Hohenzollerns, still far away from
her here! It is at Windsor, not in Weinsberg, or among the ruins of
WEIBERTREUE, that his Highness wishes to be.
At Heilbronn our road branches off to the left; and we roll diligently
towards Sinzheim, calculating to be there before nightfall. Whew!
Something has gone awry at Sinzheim: no right lodging in the waste Inns
there; or good clean Barns, of a promising character, are to be had
nearer than there: we absolutely do not go to Sinzheim to-night; we are
to stop at Steinfurth, a small quiet Hamlet with Barns, four or five
miles short of that! This was a great disappointment to the Prince,--and
some say, a highly momentous circumstance in his History: ["Might
perhaps have succeeded at Sinzheim" (Seckendorf's _Relation of the
Crown-Prince's meditated Flight,_ p. 2;--addressed to Prince Eugene few
days afterwards; given in Forster, iii. 1-13).]--however, he rallies
in the course of the evening; speaks again to Page Keith. "Steinfurth
[STONY-FORD, over the Brook here]; be it at Steinfurth, all the same!"
Page Keith will manage to get horses for us here, no less. And Speyer
and the Ferry of the Rhine are within three hours. Favor us, Silence and
all ye good genii!--
On Friday morning, 4th August, 1730, "usual hour of starting, 3 A.M.,"
not being yet came, the Royal Party lies asleep in two clean airy Barns,
facing one another, in the Village of Steinfurth; Barns facing one
another, with the Heidelberg Highway and Village Green asleep in front
between them; [Compare Wilhelmina, i. 259 (her Account of the Flight:
"Heard it from my Brother,"--and report it loosely after a dozen
years!).] for it is little after two in the morning, the dawn hardly
beginning to break. Prince Friedrich, with his Trio of Vigilance,
Buddenbrock, Waldau, Rochow, lies in one Barn; Majesty, with his
Seckendorf and party, is in the other: apparently all still locked in
sleep? Not all: Prince Friedrich, for example, is awake;--the Trio is
indeed audibly asleep; unless others watch for them, their six eyes are
closed. Friedrich cautiously rises; dresses; takes his money, his new
red roquelaure, unbolts the Barn-door, and walks out. Trio of Vigilance
is sound asleep, and knows nothing: alas, Trio of Vigilance, while its
own six eyes are closed, has appointed another pair to watch.
Gummersbach the Valet comes to Rochow's bolster: "Hst, Herr
Oberst-Lieutenant, please awaken! Prince Royal is up, has on his
top-coat, and is gone out of doors!" Rochow starts to his habiliments,
or perhaps has them ready on; in a minute or two, Rochow also is forth
into the gray of the morning;--finds the young Prince actually on the
Green there; in his red roquelaure, leaning pensively on one of the
travelling carriages. _"Guten Morgen, Ihro Konigliche Hoheit!_" [Ranke,
1. 305.]--Fancy such a salutation to the young man! Page Keith, at
this moment, comes with a pair of horses, too: "Whither with the nags,
Sirrah?" Rochow asked with some sharpness. Keith, seeing how it was,
answered without visible embarrassment, "Herr, they are mine and Kunz
the Page's horses" (which, I suppose, is true); "ready at the usual
hour!" Keith might add.--"His Majesty does not go till five this
morning;--back to the stables!" beckoned Rochow; and, according to the
best accounts, did not suspect anything, or affected not to do so.
Page Keith returned, trembling in his saddle. Friedrich strolled towards
the other Barn,--at least to be out of Rochow's company. Seckendorf
emerges from the other Barn; awake at the common hour: "How do you like
his Royal Highness in the red roquelaure?" asks Rochow, as if nothing
had happened. Was there ever such a baffled Royal Highness; or young
bright spirit chained in the Bear's Den in this manner? Our Steinfurth
project has gone to water; and it is not to-day we shall get across the
Rhine!--Not to-day; nor any other day, on that errand, strong as our
resolutions are! For new light, in a few hours afterwards, pours in
upon the project; and human finesse, or ulterior schemes, avail nothing
henceforth. "The Crown-Prince's meditated Flight" has tried itself, and
failed. Here and so that long meditation ENDS; this at Steinfurth was
all the over-act it could ever come to. In few hours more it will melt
into air; and only the terrible consequences will remain!--
By last night's arrangement, the Prince with his Trio was to set out an
hour before his Father, which circumstance had helped Page Keith in his
excuses. Naturally the Prince had now no wish to linger on the Green of
Steinfurth, in such a posture of affairs: "Towards Heidelberg, then; let
us see the big Tun there: ALLONS!" How the young Prince and his Trio did
this day's journey; where he loitered, what he saw, said or thought, we
have no account: it is certain only that his Father, who set out from
Steinfurth an hour after him, arrived in Mannheim several hours before
him; and, in spite of Kurfurst Karl Philip's welcome, testified the
liveliest inquietude on that unaccountable circumstance. Beautiful
Rhine-stream, thrice-beautiful trim Mannheim;--yes, all is beautiful
indeed, your Serenity! But where can the Prince be? he kept ejaculating.
And Karl Philip had to answer what he could. Of course the Prince may
be lingering about Heidelberg, looking at the big Tun and other
miracles:--"I had the pleasure to repair that world-famous Tub or Tun,
as your Majesty knows; which had lain half burnt, ever since Louis XIV.
with his firebrand robberies lay upon us, and burnt the Pfalz in whole,
small honor to him! I repaired the Tun: [Kohler, _Munzbelustigungen_
(viii. 418-424; 145-152), who gives a view of the world's wonder, lying
horizontal with stairs running up to it. Big Tuns of that kind were not
uncommon in Germany; and had uses, if multiplex dues of wine were to
be paid IN NATURA: the Heidelberg, the biggest of them, is small to the
Whitbread-and-Company, for porter's-ale, in our time.] it is probably
the successfulest feat I did hitherto; and well worth looking at, had
your Majesty had time!"--"JA WOHL;--but he came away an hour before
me!"--The polite Karl Philip, at length, sent off one of his own
Equerries to ride towards Heidelberg, or even to Steinfurth if needful,
and see what was become of the Prince. This Official person met the
Prince, all in order, at no great distance; and brought him safe to
Papa's presence again.
Why Papa was in such a fuss about this little circumstance? Truly there
has something come to Papa's knowledge since he started, perhaps since
he arrived at Mannheim. Page Keith, who rides always behind the King's
coach, has ridden this day in an agony of remorse and terror; and at
length (probably in Mannheim, once his Majesty is got to his Apartments,
or now that he finds his Majesty so anxious there) has fallen on his
knees, and, with tears and obtestations, made a clean breast. Page Keith
has confessed that the Crown-Prince and he were to have been in Speyer,
or farther, at this time of the day; flying rapidly into France. "God's
Providence alone prevented it! Pardon, pardon: slay me, your Majesty;
but there is the naked truth, and the whole of it, and I have nothing
more to say!" Hereupon ensues despatch of the Equerry; and hereupon, as
we may conjecture, the Equerry's return with Fritz and the Trio is an
unspeakable relief to Friedrich Wilhelm.
Friedrich Wilhelm now summons Buddenbrock and Company straightway;
shows, in a suppressed-volcanic manner, with questions and
statements,--obliged to SUPPRESS oneself in foreign hospitable Serene
Houses,--what atrocity of scandal and terror has been on the edge of
happening: "And you three, Rochow, Waldau, Buddenbrock, mark it, you
three are responsible; and shall answer, I now tell you, with your
heads. Death the penalty, unless you bring HIM to our own Country
again,--'living or dead,'" added the Suppressed-Volcano, in low
metallic tone; and the sparkling eyes of him, the red tint, and rustling
gestures, make the words too credible to us. [Ranke, i. 307.]
What Friedrich Wilhelm got to speak about with the old Kur-Pfalz, during
their serene passages of hospitality at Mannheim, is not very clear to
me; his Prussian Majesty is privately in such a desperate humor, and
the old Kur-Pfalz privately so discrepant on all manner of points,
especially on the Julich-and-Berg point. They could talk freely about
the old Turk Campaigns, Battle of Zentha, [11th September, 1697;
Eugene's crowning feat;--breaking of the Grand Turk's back in this
world; who has staggered about, less and less of a terror and outrage,
more and more of a nuisance growing unbearable, ever since that day.
See Hormayr (iii. 97-101) for some description of this useful bit of
Heroism.] and Prince Eugene; very freely about the Heidelberg Tun. But
it is known old Karl Philip had his agents at the Congress of Soissons,
to secure that Berg-and-Julich interest for the Sulzbachs and him:
directly in the teeth of Friedrich Wilhelm. How that may have gone,
since the Treaty of Seville broke out to astonish mankind,--will be
unsafe to talk about. For the rest, old Karl Philip has frankly adopted
the Pragmatic Sanction; but then he has, likewise, privately made league
with France to secure him in that Julich-and-Berg matter, should the
Kaiser break promise;--league which may much obstruct said Sanction.
Nay privately he is casting glances on his Bavarian Cousin, elegant
ambitious Karl Albert. Kurfurst of Baiern,--are not we all from the same
Wittelsbach stock, Cousins from of old?--and will undertake, for the
same Julich-and-Bergobject, to secure Bavaria in its claims on the
Austrian Heritages in defect of Heirs Male in Austria. [Michaelis, ii.
99-101.] Which runs directly into the throat of said Pragmatic Sanction;
and engages to make it, mere waste sheepskin, so to speak! Truly old
Karl Philip has his abstruse outlooks, this way, that way; most abstruse
politics altogether:--and in fact we had better speak of the Battle of
Zentha and the Heidelberg Tun, while this Visit lasts.
On the morrow, Saturday, August 5th, certain Frenchmen from the Garrison
of Landau come across to pay their court and dine. Which race of men
Friedrich Wilhelm does not love; and now less than ever, gloomily
suspicious they may be come on parricide Fritz's score,--you Rochow
and Company keep an eye! By night and by day an eye upon him! Friedrich
Wilhelm was, no doubt, glad to get away on the morrow afternoon; fairly
out into the Berg-Strasse, into the summer breezes and umbrageous woods,
with all his pertinents still safe about him; rushing towards Darmstadt
through the Sunday stillness, where he will arrive in the evening,
time enough. ["Sunday Evening arrive at Darmstadt," says Seckendorf (in
Forster, iii. 3), but by mistake calls it the "7th" instead of "6th."]
The old Prince of Darmstadt, Ernst Ludwig, Landgraf of Hessen-Darmstadt,
age now sixty-three, has a hoary venerable appearance, according to
Pollnitz, "but sits a horse well, walks well, and seems to enjoy perfect
health,"--which we are glad to hear of. What more concerns us, "he
lives usually, quite retired, in a small house upon the Square," in
this extremely small Metropolis of his, "and leaves his Heir-Apparent
to manage all business in the Palace and elsewhere." [Pollnitz, _Memoirs
and Letters,_ ii. 66.] poor old Gentleman, he has the biggest Palace
almost in the world; only he could not finish it for want of funds; and
it lies there, one of the biggest futilities, vexatious to look upon.
No doubt the old Gentleman has had vexations, plenty of them, first
and last. He is now got disgusted with the affairs of public life,
and addicts himself very much to "turning ivory," as the more
eligible employment. He lives in that small house of his, among his
turning-lathes and ivory shavings; dines in said small house, "at a
table for four persons:" only on Sunday, and above all on this Sunday,
puts off his apron; goes across to the Palace; dines there in state,
with his Heir and the Grandees. He has a kinship by affinity to
Friedrich Wilhelm; his Wife (dead long years since), Mother of this
Heir-Apparent, was an Anspach Princess, Aunt to the now Queen Caroline
of England. Poor old fellow, these insignificancies, and that he
descends direct from Philip the Magnanimous of Hessen (Luther's Philip,
who insisted on the supplementary Wife), are all I know of him; and he
is somewhat tragic to me there, turning ivory in this extremely anarchic
world. What the passages between him and Friedrich Wilhelm were, on this
occasion, shall remain conjectural to all creatures. Friedrich Wilhelm
said, this Sunday evening at Darmstadt to his own Prince: "Still here,
then? I thought you would have been in Paris by this time!"--To which
the Prince, with artificial firmness, answered, He could certainly, if
he had wished; [Seckendorf (in Forster, iii.), p. 3.] and being familiar
with reproaches, perhaps hoped it was nothing.
From Darmstadt to Frankfurt-on-Mayn is not quite forty miles, an easy
morning drive; through the old Country called of Katzen-ellenbogen;
CATS-ELBOW, a name ridiculous to hear. [CATTIMELIBOCUM, that is,
CATTUM-MELIBOCUM (CATTI a famed Nation, MELIBOCUS the chief Hill or
Fortress of their Country), is said to be the original;--which has got
changed; like ABALLABA into "Appleby," or GOD ENCOMPASS US into "The
Goat and Compasses," among ourselves.] Berg-Strasse and the Odenwald
(FOREST of the OTTI) are gone; but blue on the northeast yonder, if your
Royal Highness will please to look, may be seen summits of the SPESSART,
a much grander forest,--tall branchy timbers yonder, one day to be masts
of admirals, when floated down as far as Rotterdam, whitherward one
still meets them going. Spessart;--and nearer, well hidden on the right,
is an obscure village called DETTINGEN, not yet become famous in the
Newspapers of an idle world; of an England surely very idle to go
thither seeking quarrels! All which is, naturally, in the highest degree
indifferent to a Crown-Prince so preoccupied.--They reach Frankfurt,
Monday, still in good time.
Behold, at Frankfurt, the Trio of Vigilance, Buddenbrock and Company
(horrible to think of!) signify, "That we have the King's express orders
Not to enter the Town at all with your Royal Highness. We, for our part,
are to go direct into one of the Royal Yachts, which swing at anchor
here, and to wait in the same till his Majesty have done seeing
Frankfurt, and return to us." Here is a message for the poor young
Prince: Detected, prisoner, and a volcanic Majesty now likely to be in
full play when he returns!--Gilt weathercock on the Mayn Bridge (which
one Goethe used to look at, in the next generation)--this, and the
steeple-tops of Frankfurt, especially that steeple-top with the grinning
skull of the mutinous malefactor on it, warning to mankind what mutiny
leads to; this, then, is what we are to see of Frankfurt; and with such
a symphony as our thoughts are playing in the background. Unhappy Son,
unhappy Father, once more!
Nay Friedrich Wilhelm got new lights in Frankfurt: Rittmeister Katte
had an estafette waiting for him there. Estafette with a certain Letter,
which the Rittmeister had picked up in Erlangen, and has shot across by
estafette to wait his Majesty here. Majesty has read with open eyes
and throat: Letter from the Crown-Prince to Lieutenant Katte in Berlin:
treasonous Flight-project now indisputable as the sun at noon!--His
Majesty stept on board the Yacht in such humor as was never seen
before: "Detestable rebel and deserter, scandal of scandals--!"--it is
confidently written everywhere (though Seckendorf diplomatically keeps
silence), his Majesty hustled and tussled the unfortunate Crown-Prince,
poked the handle of his cane into his face and made the nose
bleed,--"Never did a Brandenburg face suffer the like of this!" cried
the poor Prince, driven to the edge of mad ignition and one knows not
what: when the Buddenbrocks, at whatever peril interfered; got the
Prince brought on board a different Yacht; and the conflagration
moderated for the moment. The Yachts get under way towards Mainz and
down the Rhine-stream. The Yachts glide swiftly on the favoring current,
taking advantage of what wind there may be: were we once ashore at Wesel
in our own country,--wait till then, thinks his Majesty!
And so it was on these terms that Friedrich made his first acquaintance
with the beauties of the Rhine;--readers can judge whether he was in
a temper very open to the picturesque. I know not that they paused at
Mainz, or recollected Barbarossa's World-Tournament, or the Hochheim
vineyards at all: I see the young man's Yacht dashing in swift gallop,
not without danger, through the Gap of Bingen; dancing wildly on the
boiling whirlpools of St. Goar, well threading the cliffs;--the young
man gloomily insensible to danger of life, and charm of the picturesque.
Coblenz (CONFLUENTIA), the Moselle and Ehrenbreitstein: Majesty, smoking
on deck if he like, can look at these through grimly pacifying tobacco;
but to the Crown-Prince life itself is fallen haggard and bankrupt.
Over against Coblenz, nestled in between the Rhine and the foot of
Ehrenbreitstein, [Pollnitz, _Memoirs and Letters,_ iii. 180.] there,
perhaps even now, in his Hunting Lodge of Kerlich yonder, is his
Serene Highness the fat little Kurfurst of Trier, one of those Austrian
Schonborns (Brother to him of Bamberg); upon whom why should we make a
call? We are due at Bonn; the fortunate young Kurfurst of Koln, richest
Pluralist in the Church, expects us at his Residence there. Friedrich
Wilhelm views the fine Fortress of Ehrenbreitstein:--what would your
Majesty think if this were to be yours in a hundred years; this and
much else, by way of compound-interest for the Berg-and-Julich and other
outstanding debts? Courage, your Majesty!--On the fat little Kurfurst,
at Kerlich here, we do not call: probably out hunting; "hunts every
day," [Busching, _Beitrage,_ iv. 201.] as if it were his trade, poor
little soul.
At Bonn, where we do step ashore to lodge with a lean Kurfurst,
Friedrich Wilhelm strictly charges, in my (Seckendorf's) hearing, the
Trio of Vigilance to have an eye; to see that they bring the Prince on
board again, "LIVING OR DEAD."--No fear, your Majesty. Prince listened
with silent, almost defiant patience, "MIT GROSSER GEDULD." [Seckendorf
(in Forster, iii. 4).] At Bonn the Prince contrived to confide to
Seckendorf, "That he had in very truth meant to run away: he could not,
at the age he was come to, stand such indignities, actual strokes as
in the Camp of Radewitz;--and he would have gone long since, had it
not been for the Queen and the Princess his Sister's sake. He could not
repent what he had done: and if the King did not cease beating him in
that manner, &c., he would still do it. For loss of his own life, such a
life as his had grown, he cared little; his chief misery was, that those
Officers who had known of the thing should come to misfortune by his
means. If the King would pardon these poor gentlemen, he would tell
him everything. For the rest, begged Seckendorf to help him in this
labyrinth;--nothing could ever so oblige him as help now;" and more
of the like sort. These things he said, at Bonn, to Seckendorf, the
fountain of all his woes. [Ibid.] What Seckendorf's reflections on this
his sad handiwork now were, we do not know. Probably he made none, being
a strong-minded case-hardened old stager; but resolved to do what he
could for the poor youth. Somewhere on this route, at Bonn more likely
than elsewhere, Friedrich wrote in pencil three words to Lieutenant
Keith at Wesel, and got it to the Post-Office: "SAUVEZ-VOUS, TOUT EST
DECOUVERT (All is found out;--away)!" [Wilhelmina (i. 265) says it was
a Page of the Old Dessauer's, a comrade of Keith's, who, having known in
time, gave him warning. Certain it is, this Note of Friedrich's, which
the Books generally assign as cause, could not have done it (infra, p.
275, and the irrefragable date there).]
Clement August, expensive Kurfurst of Koln (Elector of Cologne, as we
call it), who does the hospitalities here at Bonn, in a grand way, with
"above a hundred and fifty chamberlains" for one item,--glance at him,
reader; perhaps we shall meet the man again. He is younger Brother of
the elegant ambitious Karl Albert, Kurfurst of Bavaria, whom we have
transiently heard of: sons both of them are of that "Elector of Bavaria"
who haunts us in the Marlborough Histories,--who joined Louis XIV. in
the Succession War, and got hunted about at such a rate, after Blenheim
especially. His Boys, prisoners of the Kaiser, were bred up in a
confiscated state, as sons of a mere private gentleman; nothing visibly
ahead of them, at one time, but an obscure and extremely limited destiny
of that kind;--though now again, on French favor, and the turn of
Fortune's inconstant wheel, they are mounting very high. Bavaria came
all back to the old Elector of Bavaria; even Marlborough's "Principality
of MINDELHEIM" came. [At the Peace of Baden (corollary to UTRECHT),
1714. Elector had been "banned" (GEACHTET, solemnly drummed out),
1706; nothing but French pay to live upon, till he got back: died 26th
February, 1726, when Karl Albert succeeded (Michaelis, ii. 255).]
And the present Kurfurst, who will not do the Pragmatic Sanction at
all,--Kurfurst Karl Albert of Baiern, our old Karl Philip of Mannheim's
genealogical "Cousin;"--we heard of abstruse colleaguings there,
tendencies to break the Pragmatic Sanction altogether, and reduce it
to waste sheepskin! Not impossible Karl Albert will go high enough.
And this Clement August the cadet, he is Kurfurst of Koln; by good
election-tactics, and favor of the French, he has managed to succeed an
Uncle here: has succeeded at Osnabruck in like fashion;--poor old Ernst
August of Osnabruck (to whom we once saw George I. galloping to die, and
who himself soon after died), his successor is this same Clement August,
the turn for a CATHOLIC Bishop being come at Osnabruck, and the French
being kind. Kurfurst of Koln, Bishop of Osnabruck, ditto of Paderborn
and Munster, ditto now of Hildesheim; richest Pluralist of the Church.
Goes about here in a languid expensive manner; "in green coat trimmed
with narrow silver-lace, small bag-wig done with French garniture
(SCHLEIFE) in front; and has red heels to his shoes." A lanky indolent
figure, age now thirty; "tall and slouching of person, long lean face,
hook-nose, black beard, mouth somewhat open." [Busching (_Beitrage,_ iv.
201-204: from a certain Travelling Tutor's MS. DIARY of 1731; where also
is detail of the Kurfurst's mode of Dining,--elaborate but dreary, both
mode and detail). His Schloss is now the Bonn University.] Has above
one hundred and fifty chamberlains;--and, I doubt not, is inexpressibly
wearisome to Friedrich Wilhelm in his Majesty's present mood. Patience
for the moment, and politeness above all things!--The Trio of Vigilance
had no difficulty with Friedrich; brought him on board safe again next
day, and all proceeded on their voyage; the Kurfurst in person politely
escorting as far as Koln.
Koln, famed old City of the Three Kings, with its famed Cathedral where
those three gentlemen are buried, here the Kurfurst ceases escorting;
and the flat old City is left, exciting what reflections it can. The
architectural Dilettanti of the world gather here; St. Ursula and her
Eleven Thousand Virgins were once massacred here, your Majesty; an
English Princess she, it is said. "NARREN-POSSEN (Pack of nonsense)!"
grumbles Majesty.--Pleasant Dusseldorf is much more interesting to his
Majesty; the pleasant Capital of Berg, which ought to be ours, if right
could be done; if old Pfalz would give up his crotchets; and the bowls,
in the big game playing at Seville and elsewhere, would roll fair!
Dusseldorf and that fine Palace of the Pfalzers, which ought to be
mine;--and here next is Kaiserswerth, a place of sieges, cannonadings,
known to those I knew. 'M-NA, from father to son and grandson it goes
on, and there is no end to trouble and war!--
His Majesty's next lodging is at Mors; old gaunt Castle in the Town of
Mors, which (thanks to Leopold of Anhalt-Dessau and the Iron Ramrods)
is now his Majesty's in spite of the Dutch. There the lodging is, at an
hour's drive westward from the Rhine-shore:--where his Majesty quitted
the River, I do not know; nor whether the Crown-Prince went to Mors with
him, or waited in his Yacht; but guess the latter. His Majesty intends
for Geldern on the morrow, on matters of business thither, for the Town
is his: but what would the Prince, in the present state of things,
do there?--At Mors, Seckendorf found means to address his Majesty
privately, and snuffled into him suggestions of mercy to the repentant
Prince, and to the poor Officers whom he was so anxious about. "Well, if
he WILL confess everything, and leave off his quirks and concealments:
but I know he won't!" answered Majesty.
In that dilapidated Castle of Mors,--look at it, reader, though in the
dark; we may see it again, or the shadow of it, perhaps by moonlight.
A very gaunt old Castle; next to nothing living in it, since the old
Dessauer (by stratagem, and without shot fired) flung out the Dutch, in
the Treaty-of-Utrecht time; Mors Castle and Territory being indisputably
ours, though always withheld from us on pretexts. [Narrative of the
march thither (Night of 7th November, 1712), and dexterous surprisal of
the place, in _Leopoldi von Anhalt-Dessau Leben und Thaten_ (Anonymous,
by RANFFT), pp. 85-90;--where the Despatch of the astonished Dutch
Commandant himself, to their High Mightinesses, is given. Part of
the Orange Heritage, this Mors,--came by the Great Elector's first
Wife;--but had hung SUB LITE (though the Parchments were plain enough)
ever since our King William's death, and earlier. Neuchatel, accepted
instead of ORANGE, and not even of the value of Mors, was another item
of the same lot. Besides which, we shall hear of old Palaces at Loo and
other dilapidated objects, incidentally in time coming.]
At Geldern, in the pressure of business next day, his Majesty got word
from Wesel, that Lieutenant Keith was not now to be found in Wesel.
"Was last seen there (that we can hear of) certain hours before your
Majesty's All-gracious Order arrived. Had saddled his own horse; came
ambling through the Brunen Gate, 'going out to have a ride,' he said;
and did not return."--"Keith gone, scandalous Keith, whom I pardoned
only few weeks ago; he too is in the Plot! Will the very Army break
its oath, then?" His Majesty bursts into fire and flame, at these new
tidings; orders that Colonel Dumoulin (our expertest rogue-tracer) go
instantly on the scent of Keith, and follow him till found and caught.
Also, on the other hand, that the Crown-Prince be constituted prisoner;
sail down to Wesel, prisoner in his Yacht, and await upon the Rhine
there his Majesty's arrival. Formidable omens, it is thought.
His Majesty, all business done in Geldern, drives across to Wesel; can
see Fritz's Yacht waiting duly in the River, and black Care hovering
over her. It is on the evening of the 12th of August, 1730. And so his
Majesty ends this memorable Tour into the Reich; but has not yet ended
the gloomy miseries, for himself and others, which plentifully sprung
out of that.