A melancholy little event, which afterwards proved unexpectedly
unfortunate for Friedrich, had happened in England ten days before the
Battle of Torgau. Saturday, 25th October, 1760, George II., poor old
gentleman, suddenly died. He was in his 77th year; feeble, but not
feebler than usual,--unless, perhaps, the unaccountable news from
Kloster Kampen may have been too agitating to the dim old mind? On the
Monday of this week he had, "from a tent in Hyde Park," presided at a
Review of Dragoons; and on Thursday, as his Coldstream Guards were
on march for Portsmouth and foreign service, "was in his Portico at
Kensington to see them pass;"--full of zeal always in regard to military
matters, and to this War in particular. Saturday, by sunrise he was
on foot; took his cup of chocolate; inquired about the wind, and the
chances of mails arriving; opened his window, said he would have a turn
in the Gardens, the morning being so fine. It was now between 7 and 8.
The valet then withdrew with the chocolate apparatus; but had
hardly shut the door, when he heard a deep sigh, and fall of
something,--"billet of wood from the fire?" thought he;--upon which,
hurrying back, he found it was the King, who had dropt from his seat,
"as if in attempting to ring the bell." King said faintly, "Call
Amelia," and instantly died. Poor deaf Amelia (Friedrich's old love, now
grown old and deaf) listened wildly for some faint sound from those lips
now mute forever. George Second was no more; his grandson George
Third was now King. [Old Newspapers (in _Gentleman's Magazine,_ xxx.
486-488).]
Intrinsically taken, this seemed no very great event for Friedrich, for
Pitt, for England or mankind: but it proved otherwise. The merit of
this poor King deceased, who had led his Nation stumbling among the
chimney-pots at such a rate in these mad German Wars for Twenty Years
past, was, That he did now stand loyal to the Enterprise, now when
it had become sane indeed; now when the Nation was broad awake, and
a Captain had risen to guide it out of that perilous posture, into
never-expected victory and triumph! Poor old George had stood by his
Pitt, by his Ferdinand, with a perfect loyalty at all turns; and been
devoted, heart and soul and breeches-pocket, to completely beating
Bourbon's oppressive ideas out of Bourbon's head. A little fact, but
how important, then and there! Under the Successor, all this may be
different:--ghastly beings, Old Tutors, Favorites, Mother's-Favorites,
flit, as yet invisible, on the new backstairs:--should Bute and Company
get into the foreground, people will then know how important it was.
Walpole says:--
"The Yorkes [Ex-Chancellor Hardwicke people] had long distasted this
War:" yes, and been painfully obliged to hold their tongues: "but now,"
within a month or so of the old King's death, "there was published,
under Lord Hardwicke's countenance, a Tract setting forth the burden and
ill policy of our German measures. It was called CONSIDERATIONS ON THE
GERMAN WAR; was ably written, and changed many men's minds." This is the
famous "Mauduit Pamphlet:" first of those small stones, from the sling
of Opposition not obliged to be dormant, which are now beginning to
rattle on Pitt's Olympian Dwelling-place,--high really as Olympus, in
comparison with others of the kind, but which unluckily is made of
GLASS like the rest of them! The slinger of this first resounding little
missile, Walpole informs us, was "one Mauduit, formerly a Dissenting
Teacher,"--son of a Dissenting Minister in Bermondsey, I hear, and
perhaps himself once a Preacher, but at present concerned with Factorage
of Wool on the great scale; got soon afterwards promoted to be Head
of the Custom-house in Southampton, so lovely did he seem to Bute and
Company. "How agreeable his politics were to the interior of the Court,
soon appeared by a place [Southampton Custom-house] being bestowed on
him by Lord Bute." A fortunate Mauduit, yet a stupidly tragical; had
such a destiny in English History! Hear Walpole a little farther, on
Mauduit, and on other things then resonant to Arlington Street in a way
of their own. "TO SIR HORACE MANN [at Florence]:--
"NOVEMBER 14th, 1760 [tenth night after Torgau].... We are all in guns
and bonfires for an unexpected victory of the King of Prussia over Daun;
but as no particulars are yet arrived, there are doubters."
"DECEMBER 5th, 1760. I have received the samples of brocadella.... I
shall send you a curious Pamphlet, the only work I almost ever knew that
changed the opinions of many. It is called CONSIDERATIONS ON THE PRESENT
GERMAN WAR, ["London: Printed for John Wilkie, at the Bible, in St.
Paul's Churchyard, 1761," adds my poor Copy (a frugal 12mo, of pp.
144), not adding of what edition.] and is written by a wholesale
Woollen-Draper [connected with Wool, in some way] "Factor at Blackwell
Hall," if that mean Draper:--and a growing man ever after; came to be
"Agent for Massachusetts," on the Boston-TEA occasion, and again
did Tracts; was "President of the"--in short, was a conspicuous
Vice-President, so let us define him, of The general Anti-Penalty or
Life-made-Soft Association, with Cause of civil and religious Liberty
all over the World, and such like; and a Mauduit comfortably resonant
in that way till he died [Chalmers, BIOG. DICTIONARY; Nichols, LITERARY
ANECDOTES; &c. &c.]; but the materials are supposed to be furnished by
the faction of the Yorkes. The confirmation of the King of Prussia's
victory near Torgau does not prevent the disciples of the Pamphlet from
thinking that the best thing which could happen for us would be to have
that Monarch's head shot off. [Hear, hear!]--
"There are Letters from the Hague [what foolish Letters do fly about, my
friend!], that say Daun is dead of his wounds. If he is, I shall begin
to believe that the King of Prussia will end successfully at last. [Oh!]
It has been the fashion to cry down Daun; but, as much as the King of
Prussia may admire himself [does immensely, according to our Selwyn
informations], I dare say he would have been glad to be matched with one
much more like himself than one so opposite as the Marshal."
"JANUARY 2d, 1761. The German War is not so popular as you imagine,
either in the Closet or in the Nation." [Walpole, _Letters to Sir Horace
Mann_ (Lond. 1843), i. 6, 7.] (Enough, enough.)
The Mauduit Pamphlet, which then produced such an effect, is still to
be met in old Collections and on Bookstalls; but produces little save
weariness to a modern reader. "Hanover not in real danger," argues he;
"if the French had it, would not they, all Europe ordering them, have
to give it up again?" Give it up,--GRATIS, or in return for Canada and
Pondicherry, Mauduit's does not say. Which is an important omission! But
Mauduit's grand argument is that of expense; frightful outlay of money,
aggravated by ditto mismanagement of same.
A War highly expensive, he says--(and the truth is, Pitt was never
stingy of money: "Nearly the one thing we have in any plenty; be
frank in use of that, in an Enterprise so ill-provided otherwise, and
involving life and death!" thinks Pitt);--"dreadfully expensive,"
urges Mauduit, and gives some instances of Commissariat moneys signally
wasted,--not by Pitt, but by the stupidity of Pitt's War Offices,
Commissariat Offices, Offices of all kinds; not to be cured at once
by any Pitt:--How magazines of hay were shipped and reshipped, carried
hither, thither, up this river, down that (nobody knowing where the
war-horses would be that were to eat it); till at length, when it had
reached almost the value of bohea tea, the right place of it was found
to be Embden (nearest to Britain from the first, had one but known), and
not a horse would now taste it, so spoiled was the article; all horses
snorted at it, as they would have done at bohea, never so expensive.
[Mauduit (towards the end) has a story of that tenor,--particulars not
worth verifying.] These things are incident to British warfare; also to
Swedish, and to all warfares that have their War Offices in an imaginary
state,--state much to be abhorred by every sane creature; but not to
be mended all at once by the noblest of men, into whose hands they are
suddenly thrust for saving his Nation. Conflagration to be quenched; and
your buckets all in hideous leakage, like buckets of the Danaides:--your
one course is, ply them, pour with them, such as they are.
Mauduit points out farther the enormous fortunes realized by a swindling
set of Army-Furnishers, Hebrews mainly, and unbeautiful to look on.
Alas, yes; this too is a thing incident to the case; and in a degree to
all such cases, and situations of sudden crisis;--have not we seen Jew
Ephraim growing rich by the copper money even of a Friedrich? Christian
Protestants there are, withal, playing the same game on a larger scale.
Herr Schimmelmann ("MOULDY-man") the Dane, for instance,--Dane or
Holsteiner,--is coining false money for a Duke of Holstein-Plon, who
has not a Seven-Years War on his hands. Diligently coining, this Mouldy
Individual; still more successfully, is trading in Friedrich's Meissen
China (bought in the cheapest market, sold in the dearest); has at
Hamburg his "Auction of Meissen Porcelain," steadily going on, as a
new commercial institution of that City;--and, in short, by assiduously
laboring in such harvest-fields, gathers a colossal fortune, 100,000
pounds, 300,000 pounds, or I will not remember what. Gets "ennobled,"
furthermore, by a Danish Government prompt to recognize human merit:
Elephant Order, Dannebrog Order; no Order good enough for this
Mouldy-man of merit; [Preuss, ii. 391, 282, &c.]--and is, so far as
I know, begetting "Nobles," that is to say, Vice-Kings and monitory
Exemplars, for the Danish People, to this day. Let us shut down the iron
lid on all that.
Mauduit's Pamphlet, if it raised in the abhorrent unthinking English
mind some vague notion, as probably it did, that Pitt was responsible
for these things, or was in a sort the cause or author of them, might
produce some effect against him. "What a splash is this you are
making, you Great Commoner; wetting everybody's feet,--as our Mauduit
proves;--while the Conflagration seems to be going out, if you let it
alone!" For the heads of men resemble--My friend, I will not tell you
what they, in multitudinous instances, resemble.
But thus has woollen Mauduit, from his private camp ("Clement's Lane,
Lombard Street," say the Dictionaries), shot, at a very high object,
what pigeon's-egg or small pebble he had; the first of many such
that took that aim; with weak though loud-sounding impact, but with
results--results on King Friedrich in particular, which were stronger
than the Cannonade of Torgau! As will be seen. For within year and
day,--Mauduit and Company making their noises from without, and the
Butes and Hardwickes working incessantly with such rare power of
leverage and screwage in the interior parts,--a certain Quasi-Olympian
House, made of glass, will lie in sherds, and the ablest and noblest man
in England see himself forbidden to do England any service farther:
"Not needed more, Sir! Go you,--and look at US for the remainder of your
life!"
KING FRIEDRICH IN THE APEL HOUSE AT LEIPZIG (8th December, 1760-17th
March, 1761).
Friedrich's Winter in the Apel House at Leipzig is of cheerfuler
character than we might imagine. Endless sore business he doubtless has,
of recruiting, financiering, watching and providing, which grows more
difficult year by year; but he has subordinates that work to his signal,
and an organized machinery for business such as no other man. And
solacements there are withal: his Books he has about him; welcomer than
ever in such seasons: Friends too,--he is not solitary; nor neglectful
of resources. Faithful D'Argens came at once (stayed till the middle
of March): [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xix. 212, 213. Sends a Courier to
conduct D'Argens "FOR December 8th;" "21st March," D'Argens is back at
Berlin.] D'Argens, Quintus Icilius, English Mitchell; these three almost
daily bore him company. Till the middle of January, also, he had his
two Nephews with him (Sons of his poor deceased Brother, the late tragic
Prince of Prussia),--the elder of whom, Friedrich Wilhelm, became King
afterwards; the second, Henri by name, died suddenly of small-pox within
about seven years hence, to the King's deep and sore grief, who liked
him the better of the two. Their ages respectively are now about 16 and
14. [Henri, born 30th December, 1747, died 26th May, 1767;--Friedrich
Wilhelm, afterwards Friedrich Wilhelm II. (sometimes called DER DICKE,
The Big), born 25th December, 1744; King, 17th August, 1786; died 16th
November, 1797.] Their appetite for dancing, and their gay young ways,
are pleasant now and afterwards to the old Uncle in his grim element.
[Letters, &c. in SCHONING.]
Music, too, he had; daily evening Concert, though from himself there is
no fluting now. One of his Berlin Concert people who had been sent for
was Fasch, a virtuoso on I know not what instrument,--but a man given to
take note of things about him. Fasch was painfully surprised to see his
King so altered in the interim past: "bent now, sunk into himself, grown
old; to whom these five years of war-tumult and anxiety, of sorrow and
hard toil, had given a dash of gloomy seriousness and melancholy, which
was in strong contrast with his former vividly bright expression, and
was not natural to his years." [Zelter's _Life of Fasch_ (cited in
PREUSS, ii. 278).]
From D'Argens there is one authentic Anecdote, worth giving. One evening
D'Argens came to him; entering his Apartment, found him in a situation
very unexpected; which has been memorable ever since. "One evening
[there is no date to it, except vaguely, as above, December, 1760-March,
1761], D'Argens, entering the King's Apartment, found him sitting on the
ground with a big platter of fried meat, from which he was feeding his
dogs. He had a little rod, with which he kept order among them, and
shoved the best bits to his favorites. The Marquis, in astonishment,
recoiled a step, struck his hands together, and exclaimed: 'The Five
Great Powers of Europe, who have sworn alliance, and conspired to undo
the Marquis de Brandebourg, how might they puzzle their heads to
guess what he is now doing! Scheming some dangerous plan for the next
Campaign, think they; collecting funds to have money for it; studying
about magazines for man and horse; or he is deep in negotiations to
divide his enemies, and get new allies for himself? Not a bit of all
that. He is sitting peaceably in his room, and feeding his dogs!'"
[Preuss, ii. 282.]
INTERVIEW WITH HERR PROFESSOR GELLERT (Thursday, 18th December, 1760).
Still more celebrated is the Interview with Gellert; though I cannot say
it is now more entertaining to the ingenuous mind. One of Friedrich's
many Interviews, this Winter, with the Learned of Leipzig University;
for he is a born friend of the Muses so called, and never neglects an
opportunity. Wonderful to see how, in such an environment, in the depths
of mere toil and tribulation, with a whole breaking world lying on his
shoulders, as it were,--he always shows such appetite for a snatch of
talk with anybody presumably of sense, and knowledge on something!
"This Winter," say the Books, "he had, in vacant intervals, a great deal
of communing with the famed of Leipzig University;" this or the other
famed Professor,--Winkler, Ernesti, Gottsched again, and others, coming
to give account, each for himself, of what he professed to be teaching
in the world: "on the Natural Sciences," more especially the Moral; on
Libraries, on Rare Books. Gottsched was able to satisfy the King on one
point; namely, That the celebrated passage of St. John's Gospel--"THERE
ARE THREE THAT BEAR RECORD--was NOT in the famous Manuscript of the
Vienna Library; Gottsched having himself examined that important CODEX,
and found in the text nothing of said Passage, but merely, written
on the margin, a legible intercalation of it, in Melanchthon's hand.
Luther, in his Version, never had it at all." [_Helden-Geschichte,_
vi. 596.] A Gottsched inclined to the Socinian view? Not the least
consequence to Friedrich or us! Our business is exclusively with Gellert
here.
Readers have heard of Gellert; there are, or there were, English
Writings about him, LIVES, or I forget what: and in his native
Protestant Saxony, among all classes, especially the higher, he had,
in those years and onwards to his death, such a popularity and real
splendor of authority as no man before or since. Had risen, against his
will in some sort, to be a real Pope, a practical Oracle in those parts.
In his modest bachelor lodging (age of him five-and-forty gone) he
has sheaves of Letters daily,--about affairs of the conscience, of the
household, of the heart: from some evangelical young lady, for example,
Shall I marry HIM, think you, O my Father?" and perhaps from her Papa,
"Shall SHE, think you, O my ditto?"--Sheaves of Letters: and of oral
consulters such crowds, that the poor Oracle was obliged to appoint
special hours for that branch of his business. His class-room (he
lectures on MORALS, some THEORY OF MORAL SENTIMENT, or such like) is
crowded with "blue uniforms" (ingenuous Prussian Officers eager to
hear a Gellert) in these Winters. Rugged Hulsen, this very season, who
commands in Freyberg Country, alleviates the poor village of Hainichen
from certain official inflictions, and bids the poor people say "It is
because Gellert was born among you!" Plainly the Trismegistus of mankind
at that date:--who is now, as usual, become a surprising Trismegistus to
the new generations!
He had written certain thin Books, all of a thin languid nature; but
rational, clear; especially a Book of FABLES IN VERSE, which are watery,
but not wholly water, and have still a languid flavor in them for
readers. His Book on LETTER-WRITING was of use to the rising generation,
in its time. Clearly an amiable, ingenious, correct, altogether good
man; of pious mind,--and, what was more, of strictly orthodox, according
to the then Saxon standard in the best circles. This was the figure
of his Life for the last fifteen years of it; and he was now about the
middle of that culminating period. A modest, despondent kind of man,
given to indigestions, dietetics, hypochondria: "of neat figure
and dress; nose hooked, but not too much; eyes mournfully blue and
beautiful, fine open brow;"--a fine countenance, and fine soul of its
sort, poor Gellert: "punctual like the church-clock at divine service,
in all weathers." [Jordens, _Lexikon Deutscher Dichter und Prosaisten_
(Leipzig, 1807), ii. 54-68 (Gellert).]
A man of some real intellect and melody; some, by no means much; who was
of amiable meek demeanor; studious to offend nobody, and to do whatever
good he could by the established methods;--and who, what was the great
secret of his success, was of orthodoxy perfect and eminent. Whom,
accordingly, the whole world, polite Saxon orthodox world, hailed as
its Evangelist and Trismegistus. Essentially a commonplace man; but who
employed himself in beautifying and illuminating the commonplace of his
clay and generation:--infinitely to the satisfaction of said generation.
"How charming that you should make thinkable to us, make vocal, musical
and comfortably certain, what we were all inclined to think; you
creature plainly divine!" And the homages to Gellert were unlimited and
continual, not pleasant all of them to an idlish man in weak health.
Mitchell and Quintus Icilius, who are often urging on the King that a
new German Literature is springing up, of far more importance than the
King thinks, have spoken much to him of Gellert the Trismegistus;--and
at length, in the course of a ten days from Friedrich's arrival here,
actual Interview ensues. The DIALOGUE, though it is but dull and watery
to a modern palate, shall be given entire, for the sake of one of the
Interlocutors. The Report of it, gleaned gradually from Gellert himself,
and printed, not long afterwards, from his manuscripts or those of
others, is to be taken as perfectly faithful. Gellert, writing to his
inquiring Friend Rabener (a then celebrated Berlin Wit), describes, from
Leipzig, "29th January, 1760," or about six weeks after the event: "How,
one day about the middle of December, Quintus Icilius suddenly came
to my poor lodging here, to carry me to the King." Am too ill to go.
Quintus will excuse me to-day; but will return to-morrow, when no excuse
shall avail. Did go accordingly next day, Thursday, 18th December,
4 o'clock of the afternoon; and continued till a quarter to 6. "Had
nothing of fear in speaking to the King. Recited my MALER ZU ATHEN."
King said, at parting, he would send for me again. "The English
Ambassador [Mitchell], an excellent man, was probably the cause of the
King's wish to see me.... The King spoke sometimes German, sometimes
French; I mostly German." [_Gellert's Briefwechsel mit Demoiselle
Lucius, herausgegeben von F. A. Ebert_ (Leipzig, 1823), pp. 629, 631.]
As follows:--
KING. "Are you (ER) the Professor Gellert?"
GELLERT. "Yea, IHRO MAJESTAT."
KING. "The English Ambassador has spoken highly of you to me. Where do
you come from?"
GELLERT. "From Hainichen, near Freyberg."
KING. "Have not you a brother at Freyberg?"
GELLERT. "Yea, IHRO MAJESTAT."
KING. "Tell me why we have no good German Authors."
MAJOR QUINTUS ICILIUS (puts in a word). "Your Majesty, you see here one
before you;--one whom the French themselves have translated, calling him
the German La Fontaine!"
KING. "That is much. Have you read La Fontaine?"
GELLERT. "Yes, your Majesty; but have not imitated: I am original (ICH
BIN EIN ORIGINAL)."
KING. "Well, this is one good Author among the Germans; but why have not
we more?"
GELLERT. "Your Majesty has a prejudice against the Germans."
KING. "No; I can't say that (Nein; das kann ich nicht sagen)."
GELLERT. "At least, against German writers."
KING. "Well, perhaps. Why have we no good Historians? Why does no one
undertake a Translation of Tacitus?"
GELLERT. "Tacitus is difficult to translate; and the Frenoh themselves
have but bad translations of him."
KING. "That is true (DA HAT ER RECHT)."
GELLERT. "And, on the whole, various reasons may be given why the
Germans have not yet distinguished themselves in every kind of writing.
While Arts and Sciences were in their flower among the Greeks, the
Romans were still busy in War. Perhaps this is the Warlike Era of
the Germans:--perhaps also they have yet wanted Augustuses and
Louis-Fourteenths!"
KING. "How, would you wish one Augustus, then, for all Germany?"
GELLERT. "Not altogether that; I could wish only that every Sovereign
encouraged men of genius in his own country."
KING (starting a new subject). "Have you never been out of Saxony?"
GELLERT. "I have been in Berlin."
KING. "You should travel."
GELLERT. "IHRO MAJESTAT, for that I need two things,--health and means."
KING. "What is your complaint? Is it DIE GELEHRTE KRANKHEIT (Disease of
the Learned," Dyspepsia so called)? "I have myself suffered from that. I
will prescribe for you. You must ride daily, and take a dose of rhubarb
every week."
GELLERT. "ACH, IHRO MAJESTAT: if the horse were as weak as I am, he
would be of no use to me; if he were stronger, I should be too weak to
manage him." (Mark this of the Horse, however; a tale hangs by it.)
KING. "Then you must drive out."
GELLERT. "For that I am deficient in the means."
KING. "Yes, that is true; that is what Authors (GELEHRTE) in Deutschland
are always deficient in. I suppose these are bad times, are not they?"
GELLERT. "JA WOHL; and if your Majesty would grant us Peace (DEN FRIEDEN
GEBEN WOLLTEN)--"
KING. "How can I? Have not you heard, then? There are three of them
against me (ES SIND JA DREI WIDER MICH)!"
GELLERT. "I have more to do with the Ancients and their History than
with the Moderns."
KING (changing the topic). "What do you think, is Homer or Virgil the
finer as an Epic Poet?"
GELLERT. "Homer, as the more original."
KING. "But Virgil is much more polished (VIEL POLIRTER)."
GELLERT. "We are too far removed from Homer's times to judge of his
language. I trust to Quintilian in that respect, who prefers Homer."
KING. "But one should not be a slave to the opinion of the Ancients."
GELLERT. "Nor am I that. I follow them only in cases where, owing to the
distance, I cannot judge for myself."
MAJOR ICILIUS (again giving a slight fillip or suggestion). "He," the
Herr Professor here, "has also treated of GERMAN LETTER-WRITING, and has
published specimens."
KING. "So? But have you written against the CHANCERY STYLE, then"
(the painfully solemn style, of ceremonial and circumlocution; Letters
written so as to be mainly wig and buckram)?
GELLERT. "ACH JA, that have I, IHRO MAJESTAT!"
KING. "But why doesn't it change? The Devil must be in it (ES IST ETWAS
VERTEUFELTES). They bring me whole sheets of that stuff, and I can make
nothing of it!"
GELLERT. "If your Majesty cannot alter it, still less can I. I can only
recommend, where you command."
KING. "Can you repeat any of your Fables?"
GELLERT. "I doubt it; my memory is very treacherous."
KING. "Bethink you a little; I will walk about [Gellert bethinks him,
brow puckered. King, seeing the brow unpucker itself]. Well, have you
one?"
GELLERT. "Yes, your Majesty: THE PAINTER." Gellert recites (voice
plaintive and hollow; somewhat PREACHY, I should doubt, but not cracked
or shrieky);--we condense him into prose abridgment for English readers;
German can look at the bottom of the page: [(Gellert's WERKE: Leipzig,
1840; i. 135.)]--
"'A prudent Painter in Athens, more intent on excellence than on money,
had done a God of War; and sent for a real Critic to give him his
opinion of it. On survey, the Critic shook his head: "Too much Art
visible; won't do, my friend!" The Painter strove to think otherwise;
and was still arguing, when a young Coxcomb [GECK, Gawk] stept in:
"Gods, what a masterpiece!" cried he at the first glance: "Ah, that
foot, those exquisitely wrought toenails; helm, shield, mail, what
opulence of Art!" The sorrowful Painter looked penitentially at the real
Critic, looked at his brush; and the instant this GECK was gone, struck
out his God of War.'"
KING. "And the Moral?"
GELLERT (still reciting):
"'When the Critic does not like thy Bit of Writing, it is a bad sign
for thee; but when the Fool admires, it is time thou at once strike it
out.'"
"Ein kluger Maler in Athen,
Der minder, weil man ihn bezhalte,
Als weil er Ehre suchte, malte,
Liess einen Kenner einst den Mars im Bilde sehn,
Und bat sich seine Meinung aus.
Der Kenner sagt ihm fiei heraus,
Dass ihm das Bild nicht ganz gefallen wollte,
Und dass es, um recht schon zu sein,
Weit minder Kunst verrathen sollte.
Der Maler wandte vieles ein;
Der Kenner stritt mit ihm aus Grunden,
Und konnt ihn doch nicht uberwinden.
Gleich trat ein junger Geck herein,
Und nahm das Bild in Augenschein.
'O,' rief er, 'bei dem ersten Blicke,
Ihr Gotter, welch ein Meisterstucke!
Ach, welcher Fuss! O, wie geschickt
Sind nicht die Nagel ausgedruckt!
Mars lebt durchaus in diesem Bilde.
Wie viele Kunst, wie viele Pracht
Ist in dem Helm und in dem Schilde,
Und in der Rustung angebracht!'
Der Maler ward beschamt geruhret,
Und sah den Kenner klaglich an.
'Nun,' sprach er, 'bin ich uberfuhret!
Ihr habt mir nicht zu viel gethan.'
Der junge Geck war kaum hinaus,
So strich er seinen Kriegsgott aus."
MORAL.
"Wenn deine Schrift dem Kenner nicht gefallt,
So ist es schon ein boses Zeichen;
Doch, wenn sie gar des Narren Lob erhalt,
So ist es Zeit, sie auszustreichen."
KING. "That is excellent; very fine indeed. You have a something of soft
and flowing in your verses; them I understand altogether. But there was
Gottsched, one day, reading me his Translation of IPHIGENIE; I had the
French Copy in my hand, and could not understand a word of him [a Swan
of Saxony, laboring in vain that day]! They recommended me another Poet,
one Peitsch [Herr Peitsch of Konigsberg, Hofrath, Doctor and Professor
there, Gottsched's Master in Art; edited by Gottsched thirty years ago;
now become a dumb idol, though at one time a god confessed]; him I flung
away."
GELLERT. "IHRO MAJESTAT, him I also fling away."
KING. "Well, if I continue here, you must come again often; bring your
FABLES with you, and read me something."
GELLERT. "I know not if I can read well; I have the singing kind of
tone, native to the Hill Country."
KING. "JA, like the Silesians. No, you must read me the FABLES
yourself; they lose a great deal otherwise. Come back soon." [_Gellert's
Briefwechsel mit Demoiselle Lucius_ (already cited), pp. 632 et seq.]
(EXIT GELLERT.)
KING (to Icilius, as we learn from a different Record). "That is quite
another man than Gottsched!" (EXUENT OMNES.)
The modest Gellert says he "remembered Jesus Sirach's advice, PRESS NOT
THYSELF ON KINGS,--and never came back;" nor was specially sent for,
in the hurries succeeding; though the King never quite forgot him. Next
day, at dinner, the King said, "He is the reasonablest man of all the
German Literary People, C'EST LE PLUS RAISONNABLE DE TOUS LES SAVANS
ALLEMANDS." And to Garve, at Breslau, years afterwards: "Gellert is the
only German that will reach posterity; his department is small, but he
has worked in it with real felicity." And indeed the King had, before
that, as practical result of the Gellert Dialogue, managed to set some
Berlin Bookseller upon printing of these eligible FABLES, "for the use
of our Prussian Schools;" in which and other capacities the FABLES still
serve with acceptance there and elsewhere. [Preuss, ii. 274.]
In regard to Gellert's Horse-exercise, I had still to remember that
Gellert, not long after, did get a Horse; two successive Horses; both
highly remarkable. The first especially; which was Prince Henri's gift:
"The Horse Prince Henri had ridden at the Battle of Freyberg" (Battle
to be mentioned hereafter);--quadruped that must have been astonished at
itself! But a pretty enough gift from the warlike admiring Prince to
his dyspeptic Great Man. This Horse having yielded to Time, the very
Kurfurst (grandson of Polish Majesty that now is) sent Gellert another,
housing and furniture complete; mounted on which, Gellert and it were
among the sights of Leipzig;--well enough known here to young Goethe, in
his College days, who used to meet the great man and princely horse, and
do salutation, with perhaps some twinkle of scepticism in the corner of
his eye. [DICHTUNG UND WAHRHEIT, Theil ii. Buch 6 (in Goethe's WERKE,
xxv. 51 et seq).] Poor Gellert fell seriously ill in December, 1769;
to the fear and grief of all the world: "estafettes from the Kurfurst
himself galloped daily, or oftener, from Dresden for the sick bulletin;"
but poor Gellert died, all the same (13th of that month); and we have
(really with pathetic thoughts, even we) to bid his amiable existence in
this world, his bits of glories and him, adieu forever.
DIALOGUE WITH GENERAL SALDERN (in the Apel House, Leipzig, 21st January,
1761).
Four or five weeks after this of Gellert, Friedrich had another
Dialogue, which also is partly on record, and is of more importance to
us here: Dialogue with Major-General Saldern; on a certain business,
delicate, yet profitable to the doer,--nobody so fit for it as Saldern,
thinks the King. Saldern is he who did that extraordinary feat
of packing the wrecks of battle on the Field of Liegnitz; a fine,
clear-flowing, silent kind of man, rapid and steady; with a great deal
of methodic and other good faculty in him,--more, perhaps, than he
himself yet knows of. Him the King has sent for, this morning; and it
is on the business of Polish Majesty's Royal Hunting-Schloss at
Hubertsburg,--which is a thing otherwise worth some notice from us.
For three months long the King had been representing, in the proper
quarters, what plunderings, and riotous and even disgusting
savageries, the Saxons had perpetrated at Charlottenburg, Schonhausen,
Friedrichsfeld, in October last, while masters there for a few days: but
neither in Reichs Diet, where Plotho was eloquent, nor elsewhere by the
Diplomatic method, could he get the least redress, or one civil word of
regret. From Polish Majesty himself, to whom Friedrich remonstrated the
matter, through the English Resident at Warsaw, Friedrich had expected
regret; but he got none. Some think he had hoped that Polish Majesty,
touched by these horrors of war, and by the reciprocities evidently
liable to follow, might be induced to try something towards mediating
a General Peace: but Polish Majesty did not; Polish Majesty answered
simply nothing at all, nor would get into any correspondence: upon which
Friedrich, possibly a little piqued withal, had at length determined on
retaliation.
Within our cantonments, reflects Friedrich, here is Hubertsburg Schloss,
with such a hunting apparatus in and around it; Polish Majesty's
HERTZBLATT ("lid of the HEART," as they call it; breastbone, at least,
and pit of his STOMACH, which inclines to nothing but hunting): let his
Hubertsburg become as our Charlottenburg is; perhaps that will touch his
feelings! Friedrich had formed this resolution; and, Wednesday,
January 21st, sends for Saldern, one of the most exact, deft-going
and punctiliously honorable of all his Generals, to execute it. Enter
Saldern accordingly,--royal Audience-room "in the APEL'SCHE HAUS, New
Neumarkt, No. 16," as above;--to whom (one Kuster, a reliable creature,
reporting for us on Saldern's behalf) the King says, in the distinct
slowish tone of a King giving orders:--
KING. "Saldern, to-morrow morning you go [ER, He goes) with a detachment
of Infantry and Cavalry, in all silence, to Hubertsburg; beset the
Schloss, get all the furnitures carefully packed up and invoiced. I want
nothing with them; the money they bring I mean to bestow on our Field
Hospitals, and will not forget YOU in disposing of it."
Saldern, usually so prompt with his "JA" on any Order from the King,
looks embarrassed, stands silent,--to the King's great surprise;--and
after a moment or two says:--
SALDERN. "Forgive me, your Majesty: but this is contrary to my honor and
my oath."
KING (still in a calm tone). "You would be right to think so if I did
not intend this desperate method for a good object. Listen to me: great
Lords don't feel it in their scalp, when their subjects are torn by
the hair; one has to grip their own locks, as the only way to give them
pain." (These last words the King said in a sharper tone; he again made
his apology for the resolution he had formed; and renewed his Order.
With the modesty usual to him, but also with manliness, Saldern
replied:)--
SALDERN. "Order me, your Majesty, to attack the enemy and his batteries,
I will on the instant cheerfully obey: but against honor, oath and duty,
I cannot, I dare not!"
The King, with voice gradually rising, I suppose, repeated his
demonstration that the thing was proper, necessary in the circumstances;
but Saldern, true to the inward voice, answered steadily:--
SALDERN. "For this commission your Majesty will easily find another
person in my stead."
KING (whirling hastily round, with an angry countenance, but, I should
say, an admirable preservation of his dignity in such extreme case).
"SALDERN, ER WILL NICHT REICH WERDEN,--Saldern, you refuse to become
rich." And EXIT, leaving Saldern to his own stiff courses. [Kuster,
_Charakterzuge des General-Lieutenant v. Saldern_ (Berlin, 1793), pp.
39-44.]
Nothing remained for Saldern but to fall ill, and retire from the
Service; which he did: a man honorably ruined, thought everybody;--which
did not prove to be the case, by and by.
This surely is a remarkable Dialogue; far beyond any of the Gellert
kind. An absolute King and Commander-in-Chief, and of such a type in
both characters, getting flat refusal once in his life (this once only,
so far as I know), and how he takes it:--one wishes Kuster, or somebody,
had been able to go into more details!--Details on the Quintus-Icilius
procedure, which followed next day, would also have been rather
welcome, had Kuster seen good. It is well known, Quintus Icilius and his
Battalion, on order now given, went cheerfully, next day, in Saldern's
stead. And sacked Hubertsburg Castle, to the due extent or farther:
100,000 thalers (15,000 pounds) were to be raised from it for the
Field-Hospital behoof; the rest was to be Quintus's own; who, it was
thought, made an excellent thing of it for himself. And in hauling
out the furnitures, especially in selling them, Quintus having an
enterprising sharp head in trade affairs, "it is certain," says Kuster,
as says everybody, "various SCHANDLICHKEITEN (scandals) occurred, which
were contrary to the King's intention, and would not have happened under
Saldern." What the scandals particularly were, is not specified to me
anywhere, though I have searched up and down; much less the net amount
of money realized by Quintus. I know only, poor Quintus was bantered
about it, all his life after, by this merciless King; and at Potsdam,
in years coming, had ample time and admonition for what penitence was
needful.
"The case was much canvassed in the Army," says poor Kuster; "it was
the topic in every tent among Officers and common Men. And among us
Army-Chaplains too," poor honest souls, "the question of conflicting
duties arose: Your King ordering one thing, and your own Conscience
another, what ought a man to do? What ought an Army-Chaplain to preach
or advise? And considerable mutual light in regard to it we struck out
from one another, and saw how a prudent Army-Chaplain might steer his
way. Our general conclusion was, That neither the King nor Saldern could
well be called wrong. Saldern listening to the inner voice; right he,
for certain. But withal the King, in his place, might judge such a thing
expedient and fit; perhaps Saldern himself would, had Saldern been King
of Prussia there in January, 1761."
Saldern's behavior in his retirement was beautiful; and after the Peace,
he was recalled, and made more use of than ever: being indeed a model
for Army arrangements and procedures, and reckoned the completest
General of Infantry now left, far and near. The outcries made about
Hubertsburg, which still linger in Books, are so considerable, one
fancies the poor Schloss must have been quite ruined, and left standing
as naked walls. Such, however, we by no means find to be the case; but,
on the contrary, shall ourselves see that everything was got refitted
there, and put into perfect order again, before long.
THERE ARE SOME WAR-MOVEMENTS DURING WINTER; GENERAL FINANCIERING
DIFFICULTIES. CHOISEUL PROPOSES PEACE.
February 15th, there fell out, at Langensalza, on the Unstrut, in Gotha
Country, a bit of sharp fighting; done by Friedrich's people and Duke
Ferdinand's in concert; which, and still more what followed on it, made
some noise in the quiet months. Not a great thing, this of Langensalza,
but a sudden, and successfully done; costing Broglio some 2,000
prisoners; and the ruin of a considerable Post of his, which he had
lately pushed out thither, "to seize the Unstrut," as he hoped. A
Broglio grasping at more than he could hold, in those Thuringen parts,
as elsewhere! And, indeed, the Fight of Langensalza was only the
beginning of a series of such; Duke Ferdinand being now upon one of
his grand Winter-Adventures: that of suddenly surprising and exploding
Broglio's Winter-quarters altogether, and rolling him back to Frankfurt
for a lodging. So that, since the first days of February, especially
since Langensalza day, there rose suddenly a great deal of rushing
about, in those regions, with hard bits of fighting, at least of severe
campaigning;--which lasted two whole-months;--filling the whole world
with noise that Winter; and requiring extreme brevity from us here. It
was specially Duke Ferdinand's Adventure; Friedrich going on it, as per
bargain, to the Langensalza enterprise, but no farther; after which
it did not much concern Friedrich, nor indeed come to much result for
anybody.
"Strenuous Ferdinand, very impatient of the Gottingen business and
provoked to see Broglio's quarters extend into Hessen, so near hand, for
the first time, silently determines to dislodge him. Broglio's chain of
quarters, which goes from Frankfurt north as far as Marburg, then turns
east to Ziegenhayn; thence north again to Cassel, to Munden with its
Defiles; and again east, or southeast, to Langensalza even: this chain
has above 150 miles of weak length; and various other grave faults to
the eye of Ferdinand,--especially this, that it is in the form, not of
an elbow only, or joiner's-square, which is entirely to be disapproved,
but even of two elbows; in fact, of the PROFILE OF A CHAIR [if readers
had a Map at hand]. FOOT of the chair is Frankfurt; SEAT part is from
Marburg to Ziegenhayn; BACK part, near where Ferdinand lies in
chief force, is the Cassel region, on to Munden, which is TOP of the
back,--still backwards from which, there is a kind of proud CURL or
overlapping, down to Langensalza in Gotha Country, which greedy Broglio
has likewise grasped at! Broglio's friends say he himself knew the
faultiness of this zigzag form, but had been overruled. Ferdinand
certainly knows it, and proceeds to act upon it.
"In profound silence, namely, ranks himself (FEBRUARY 1st-12th) in
three Divisions, wide enough asunder; bursts up sudden as lightning,
at Langensalza and elsewhere; kicks to pieces Broglio's Chair-Profile,
kicks out especially the bottom part which ruins both foot and back,
these being disjointed thereby, and each exposed to be taken in
rear;--and of course astonishes Broglio not a little; but does not steal
his presence of mind.
"So that, in effect, Broglio had instantly to quit Cassel and warm
lodging, and take the field in person; to burn his Magazines; and, at
the swiftest rate permissible, condense himself, at first partially
about Fulda (well down the leg of his chair), and then gradually all
into one mass near Frankfurt itself;--with considerable losses, loss
especially of all his Magazines, full or half full. And has now, except
Marburg, Ziegenhayn and Cassel, no post between Gottingen and him.
Ferdinand, with his Three Divisions, went storming along in the wild
weather, Granby as vanguard; pricking into the skirts of Broglio.
Captured this and that of Corps, of Magazines that had not been got
burnt; laid siege to Tassel, siege to Ziegenhayn; blocked Marburg,
not having guns ready: and, for some three or four weeks, was by
the Gazetteer world and general public thought to have done a very
considerable feat;--though to himself, such were the distances,
difficulties of the season, of the long roads, it probably seemed very
questionable whether, in the end, any feat at all.
"Cassel he could not take, after a month's siege under the best
of Siege-Captains; Ziegenhayn still less under one of the worst.
Provisions, ammunitions, were not to be had by force of wagonry: scant
food for soldiers, doubly scant the food of Sieges;"--"the road from
Beverungen [where the Weser-boats have to stop, which is 30 miles from
Cassel, perhaps 60 from Ziegenhayn, and perhaps 100 from the outmost or
southern-most of Ferdinand's parties] is paved with dead horses,"
nor has even Cassel nearly enough of ammunition:--in a word, Broglio,
finding the time come, bursts up from his Frankfurt Position (March
14th-21st) in a sharp and determined manner; drives Ferdinand's people
back, beats the Erbprinz himself one day (by surprisal, 'My compliment
for Langensalza'), and sets his people running. Ferdinand sees the
affair to be over; and deliberately retires; lucky, perhaps, that he
still can deliberately: and matters return to their old posture. Broglio
resumes his quarters, somewhat altered in shape, and not quite so
grasping as formerly; and beyond his half-filled Magazines, has lost
nothing considerable, or more considerable than has Ferdinand himself."
[Tempelhof, v. 15-45; Mauvillon, ii. 135-148.]
The vital element in Ferdinand's Adventure was the Siege of Cassel;
all had to fail, when this, by defect of means, under the best of
management, declared itself a failure. Siege Captain was a Graf von
Lippe-Buckeburg, Ferdinand's Ordnance-Master, who is supposed to be "the
best Artillery Officer in the world,"--and is a man of great mark in
military and other circles. He is Son and Successor of that fantastic
Lippe-Buckeburg, by whom Friedrich was introduced to Free-Masonry long
since. He has himself a good deal of the fantast again, but with a
better basis of solidity beneath it. A man of excellent knowledge
and faculty in various departments; strict as steel, in regard to
discipline, to practice and conduct of all kinds; a most punctilious,
silently supercilious gentleman, of polite but privately irrefragable
turn of mind. A tall, lean, dusky figure; much seen to by neighbors, as
he stalks loftily through this puddle of a world, on terms of his own.
Concerning whom there circulates in military circles this Anecdote,
among many others;--which is set down as a fact; and may be, whether
quite believable or not, a symbol of all the rest, and of a man not
unimportant in these Wars. "Two years ago, on King Friedrich's birthday,
24th January, 1759, the Count had a select dinner-party in his tent in
Ferdinand's Camp, in honor of the occasion. Dinner was well over, and
wine handsomely flowing, when somebody at last thought of asking, 'What
is it, then, Herr Graf, that whistling kind of noise we hear every now
and then overhead?' 'That is nothing,' said the Graf, in his calm, dusky
way: 'that is only my Artillery-people practising; I have bidden
them hit the pole of our tent if they can: unhappily there is not
the slightest danger. Push the bottles on.'" [Archenholtz, ii.
356; Zimmermann, _Einsamkeit,_ iii. 461; &c.] Lippe-Buckeburg was
Siege-Captain at Cassel; Commandant besieged was Comte de Broglio, the
Marshal's younger Brother, formerly in the Diplomatic line;--whom we saw
once, five years ago, at the Pirna Barrier, fly into fine frenzy, and
kick vainly against the pricks. Friedrich says once, to D'Argens or
somebody: "I hope we shall soon have Cassel, and M. le Comte de Broglio
prisoner" (deserves it for his fine frenzies, at Pirna and since);--but
that comfort was denied us.
Some careless Books say, Friedrich had at first good hopes of this
Enterprise; and "had himself lent 7,000 men to it:" which is the fact,
but not the whole fact. Friedrich had approved, and even advised this
plan of Ferdinand's, and had agreed to send 7,000 men to co-operate at
Langensalza,--which, so far out in Thuringen, and pointing as if to
the Reichsfolk, is itself an eye-sorrow to Friedrich. The issue we
have seen. His 7,000 went accordingly, under a General Syburg; met the
Ferdinand people (General Sporken head of these, and Walpole's "Conway"
one of them); found the Unstrut in flood, but crossed nevertheless;
dashed in upon the French and Saxons there, and made a brilliant thing
of it at Langensalza. [_Bericht von der bey Langensalza am 15 Februar
1761 vorgefallenen Action_ in Seyfarth, _Beylagen,_ iii. 75; Tempelhof,
v. 22-27.] Which done, Syburg instantly withdrew, leaving Sporken and
his Conways to complete the Adventure; and, for his part, set himself
with his whole might "to raising contributions, recruits, horses,
proviants, over Thuringen;" "which," says Tempelhof, "had been his grand
errand there, and in which he succeeded wonderfully."
Towards the end of Ferdinand's Affair, Cassel Siege now evidently like
to fail, Friedrich organized a small Expedition for his own behoof:
expedition into Voigtland, or Frankenland, against the intrusive
Reichs-people, who have not now a Broglio or Langensalza to look across
to, but are mischievous upon our outposts on the edge of the Voigtland
yonder. The expedition lasted only ten days (APRIL 1st it left quarters;
APRIL 11th was home again); a sharp, swift and very pretty expedition;
[Tempelhof, v. 48-57.] of which we can here say only that it was
beautifully impressive on the Reichs gentlemen, and sent their
Croateries and them home again, to Bamberg, to Eger, quite over the
horizon, in a considerably flurried state. After which there was no
Small-War farther, and everybody rested in cantonment, making ready till
the Great should come.
The Prussian wounded are all in Leipzig this Winter; a crowded stirring
Town; young Archenholtz, among many others, going about in convalescent
state,--not attending Gellert's course, that I hear of,--but noticing
vividly to right and left. Much difficulty about the contributions,
Archenholtz observes;--of course an ever-increasing difficulty, here as
everywhere, in regard to finance! From Archenholtz chiefly, I present
the following particulars; which, though in loose form, and without
date, except the general one of Winter 1760-1761, to any of them, are to
be held substantially correct.
... "'It is impossible to pay that Contribution,' exclaim the
Leipzigers: 'you said, long since, it was to be 75,000 pounds on us
by the year; and this year you rise to 160,000 pounds; more than
double!'--'Perhaps that is because you favored the Reichsfolk while
here?' answer the Prussians, if they answer anything: 'It is the King's
order. Pay it you must.'--'Cannot; simply impossible.' 'Possible, we
tell you, and also certain; we will burn your Leipzig if you don't!' And
they actually, these Collector fellows, a stony-hearted set, who had a
percentage of their own on the sums levied, got soldiers drawn out
more than once pitch-link in hand, as if for immediate burning: hut the
Leipzigers thought to themselves, 'King Friedrich is not a Soltikof!'
and openly laughed at those pitch-links. Whereupon about a hundred
of their Chief Merchants were thrown into prison,--one hundred or so,
riddled down in a day or two to Seventeen; which latter Seventeen, as
they stood out, were detained a good many days, how many is not
said, but only that they were amazingly firm. Black-hole for lodging,
bread-and-water for diet, straw for bed: nothing would avail on the
Seventeen: 'Impossible,' they answered always; each unit of them, in
sight of the other sixteen, was upon his honor, and could not think of
flinching. 'You shall go for soldiers, then;--possibly you will prefer
that, you fine powdered velvet gentlemen? Up then, and march; here
are your firelocks, your seventeen knapsacks: to the road with us;
to Magdeburg, there to get on drill!' Upon which the Seventeen,
horror-struck at such quasi-ACTUAL possibility, gave in.
"Magnanimous Gotzkowsky, who had come to Leipzig on business at the
time [which will give us a date for this by and by], and been solemnly
applied to by Deputation of the Rath, pleaded with his usual zealous
fidelity on their behalf; got various alleviations, abatements; gave
bills:--'Never was seen such magnanimity!' said the Leipzig Town-Council
solemnly, as that of Berlin, in October last, had done." [Archenholtz,
ii. 187-192.]
Of course the difficulties, financial and other, are increasing every
Winter;--not on Friedrich's side only. Here, for instance, from the
Duchy of Gottingen, are some items in the French Account current, this
Winter, which are also furnished by Archenholtz:--
"For bed-ticking, 13,000 webs; of shirts ready-made, 18,000; shoes," I
forget in what quantity; but "from the poor little Town of Duderstadt
600 pairs,--liability to instant flogging if they are not honest shoes;
flogging, and the whole shoemaker guild summoned out to see it." Hardy
women the same Duderstadt has had to produce: 300 of them, "each with
basket on back, who are carrying cannon-balls from the foundry at
Lauterberg to Gottingen, the road being bad." [Archenholtz, ii. 237.]
"These French are in such necessity," continues Archenholtz, "they
spare neither friend nor foe. The Frankish Circle, for example, pleads
piteously in Reichs Diet that it has already smarted by this War to
the length of 2,230,000 pounds, and entreats the Kaiser to bid Most
Christian Majesty cease HIS exactions,--but without the least result."
Result! If Most Christian Majesty and his Pompadour will continue
this War, is it he, or is it you, that can furnish the Magazines?
"Magazine-furnishings, over all Hessen and this part of Hanover, are
enormous. Recruits too, native Hessian, native Hanoverian, you shall
furnish,--and 'We will hang them, and do, if caught deserting' [to their
own side]!"
I add only one other item from Archenholtz: "Mice being busy in these
Hanover Magazines, it is decided to have cats, and a requisition goes
out accordingly [cipher not given]: cats do execution for a time, but
cannot stand the confinement," are averse to the solitary system, and
object (think with what vocality!): "upon which Hanover has to send
foxes and weasels." [Ib. ii. 240] These guardian animals, and the 300
women laden with cannon-balls from the forge, are the most peculiar
items in the French Account current, and the last I will mention.
Difficulty, quasi-impossibility, on the French side, there evidently
is, perhaps more than on any other. But Choiseul has many arts;--and
his Official existence, were there nothing more, demands that he do the
impossible now if ever. This Spring (26th March, 1761), to the surprise
and joy of mankind, there came formal Proposal, issuing from Choiseul,
to which Maria Theresa and the Czarina had to put their signatures;
regretting that the British-Prussian Proposal of last Year had, by ill
accident, fallen to the ground, and now repeating it themselves (real
"Congress at Augsburg," and all things fair and handsome) to Britannic
and Prussian Majesties. Who answered (April 3d) as before, "Nothing
with more willingness, we!" [The "Declaration" (of France &c.), with the
Answer or "Counter-Declaration," in Seyfarth, _Beylagen,_ iii. 12-16.]
And there actually did ensue, at Paris, a vivid Negotiating all Summer;
which ended, not quite in nothing, but in less, if we might say so.
Considerably less, for some of us. We shall have to look what end
it had, and Mauduit will look!--Most people, Pitt probably among the
others, came to think that Choiseul, though his France is in beggary,
had no real view from the first, except to throw powder in the eyes of
France and mankind, to ascertain for himself on what terms those English
would make Peace, and to get Spain drawn into his quarrel. A Choiseul
with many arts. But we will leave him and his Peace-Proposals, and the
other rumors and futilities of this Year. They are part of the sound
and smoke which fill all Years; and which vanish into next to nothing,
oftenest into pure nothing, when the Years have waited a little.
Friedrich's finances, copper and other, were got completed; his Armies
too were once more put on a passable footing;--and this Year will have
its realities withal.
Gotzkowsky, in regard to those Leipzig Finance difficulties, yields me a
date, which is supplementary to some of the Archenholtz details. I find
it was "January 20th, 1761,"--precisely while the Saldern Interview, and
subsequent wreck of Hubertsburg, went on,--that "Gotzkowsky arrived in
Leipzig," [Rodenbeck, ii. 77.] and got those unfortunate Seventeen out
of ward, and the contributions settled.
And withal, at Paris, in the same hours, there went on a thing worth
noting. That January day, while Icilius was busy on the Schloss of
Hubertsburg, poor old Marechal de Belleisle,--mark him, reader!--"in the
Rue de Lille at Paris," lay sunk in putrid fever; and on the fourth day
after, "January 26th, 1761," the last of the grand old Frenchmen died.
"He had been reported dead three days before," says Barbier: "the
public wished it so; they laid the blame on him of this apparent" (let a
cautious man write it, "apparent) derangement in our affairs,"--instead
of thanking him for all he had done and suffered (loss of so much,
including reputation and an only Son) to repair and stay the same. "He
was in his 77th year. Many people say, 'We must wait three months, to
see if we shall not regret him,'"--even him! [Barbier, iv. 373; i. 154.]
So generous are Nations.
Marechal Duc de Belleisle was very wealthy: in Vernon Country, Normandy,
he had estates and chateaux to the value of about 24,000 pounds
annually. All these, having first accurately settled for his own debts,
he, in his grand old way, childless, forlorn, but loftily polite to the
last, bequeathed to the King. His splendid Paris Mansion he expressly
left "to serve in perpetuity as a residence for the Secretary of State
in the Department of War:" a magnificent Town-House it is, "HOTEL
MAGNIFIQUE, at the end of the Pont-Royal,"--which, I notice farther, is
in our time called "Hotel de CHOISEUL-PRASLIN,"--a house latterly become
horrible in men's memory, if my guess is right.
And thus vanishes, in sour dark clouds, the once great Belleisle.
Grandiose, something almost of great in him, of sublime,--alas, yes, of
too sublime; and of unfortunate beyond proportion, paying the debt of
many foregoers! He too is a notability gone out, the last of his kind.
Twenty years ago, he crossed the OEil-de-Boeuf with Papers, just setting
out to cut Teutschland in Four; and in the Rue de Lille, No. 54, with
that grandiose Enterprise drawing to its issue in universal defeat,
disgrace, discontent and preparation for the General Overturn (CULBUTE
GENERALE of 1789)) he closes his weary old eyes. Choiseul succeeds him
as War-Minister; War-Minister and Prime-Minister both in one;--and by
many arts of legerdemain, and another real spasm of effort upon Hanover
to do the impossible there, is leading France with winged steps the same
road.
Since March 17th, Friedrich was no longer in Leipzig. He left at that
time, for Meissen Country, and the Hill Cantonments,--organized there
his little Expedition into Voigtland, for behoof of the Reichsfolk;--and
did not return. Continued, mostly in Meissen Country, as the fittest for
his many businesses, Army-regulatings and other. Till the Campaign come,
we will remember of him nothing, but this little Note, and pleasant
little Gift, to his CHERE MAMAN, the day after his arrival in those
parts:--
TO MADAM CAMAS (at Magdeburg, with the Queen).
"MEISSEN, 20th March, 1761.
"I send you, my dear Mamma, a little Trifle, by way of keepsake and
memento [Snuffbox of Meissen Porcelain, with the figure of a Dog on the
lid]. You may use the Box for your rouge, for your patches, or you may
put snuff in it, or BONBONS or pills: but whatever use you turn it to,
think always, when you see this Dog, the Symbol of Fidelity, that he who
sends it outstrips, in respect of fidelity and attachment to MAMAN, all
the dogs in the world; and that his devotion to you has nothing whatever
in common with the fragility of the material which is manufactured
hereabouts.
"I have ordered Porcelain here for all the world, for Schonhausen [for
your Mistress, my poor uncomplaining Wife], for my Sisters-in-law; in
fact, I am rich in this brittle material only. And I hope the receivers
will accept it as current money: for, the truth is, we are poor as can
be, good Mamma; I have nothing left but honor, my coat, my sword, and
porcelain.
"Farewell, my beloved Mamma. If Heaven will, I shall one day see you
again face to face; and repeat to you, by word of mouth, what I have
already said and written; but, turn it and re-turn it as I may, I shall
never, except very incompletely, express what the feelings of my heart
to you are.--F." [Given in Rodenbeck, ii. 79; omitted, for I know not
what reason, in _OEuvres de Frederic,_ xviii. 145: cited partly in
Preuss, ii. 282.] ------
It was during this Winter, if ever it was, that Friedrich received
the following Letter from an aspiring Young Lady, just coming out, age
seventeen,--in a remote sphere of things. In "Sleepy Hollow" namely, or
the Court of Mirow in Mecklenburg-Strelitz, where we once visited with
Friedrich almost thirty years ago. The poor collapsed Duke has ceased
making dressing-gowns there; and this is his Niece, Princess Charlotte,
Sister to the now reigning Duke.
This Letter, in the translated form, and the glorious results it had
for some of us, are familiar to all English readers for the last hundred
years. Of Friedrich's Answer to it, if he sent one, we have no trace
whatever. Which is a pity, more or less;--though, in truth, the Answer
could only have been some polite formality; the Letter itself being
a mere breath of sentimental wind, absolutely without significance to
Friedrich or anybody else,--except always to the Young Lady herself, to
whom it brought a Royal Husband and Queenship of England, within a year.
Signature, presumably, this Letter once had; date of place, of day,
year, or even century (except by implication), there never was any: but
judicious persons, scanning on the spot, have found that the "Victory"
spoken of can only have meant Torgau; and that the aspiring Young Lady,
hitherto a School Girl, not so much as "confirmed" till a month or two
ago, age seventeen in May last, can only have I written it, at Mirow,
in the Winter subsequent. [Ludwig Giesebrecht,--DER FURSTENHOF IN MIROW
WUHREND DER JAHRE 1708-1761, in _Programm des vereinigten Koniglichen
und Stadt-Gymnasiums_ for 1863 (Stettin, 1863), pp. 26-29,--enters into
a minute criticism.] Certain it is, in September NEXT, September, 1761,
directly after George III.'s Wedding, there appeared in the English
Newspapers, what doubtless had been much handed about in society before,
the following "TRANSLATION OF A LETTER, SAID TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY
PRINCESS CHARLOTTE OF MECKLENBERG TO THE KING OF PRUSSIA, ON ONE OF HIS
VICTORIES,"--without farther commentary or remark of any kind; everybody
then understanding, as everybody still. So notable a Document ought to
be given in the Original as well (or in what passes for such), and with
some approach to the necessary preliminaries of time and place: [From
_Gentleman's Magazine_ (for October, 1761, xxxi. 447) we take, verbatim,
the TRANSLATION; from PREUSS (ii. 186) the "ORIGINAL," who does not say
where he got it,--whether from an old German Newspaper or not.]--
[TO HIS MAJESTY THE KING OF PRUSSIA (in Leipzig, or Somewhere. or
Somewhere).
MIROW IN MECHLENBURG-STRELITZ, Winter of 1760-1761.]
"Sire!--Ich weiss nicht, ob ich uber Ewr. Majestat letzteren Sieg
frohlich odor traurig sein soll, weil eben der gluckliche Sieg, der neue
Lorbeern um Dero Scheitel geflochten hat, uber mein Vaterland Jammer
und Elend verbreitet. Ich weiss, Sire, in diesem unserm lasterhaft
verfeinerten Zeitalter werde ich verlacht werden, dass mein Herz uber
das Ungluck des Landes trauert, dass ich die Drangsale des Krieges
beweine, und von ganzer Seele die Ruckkehr des Friedens wunsche. Selbst
Sie, Sire, werden vielleicht denken, es schicke sich besser fur mich,
mich in der Kunst zu gefallen zu uben, oder mich nur um hausliche
Angelegenheiten zu bekummern. Allein dem seye wie ihm wolle, so fuhlt
mein Herz zu sehr fur diese Unglucklichen, um eine dringende Furbitte
fur dieselben zuruck zu halten.
"Seit wenigen Jahren hatte dieses Land die angenehmste Gestalt gewonnen.
Man traf keine verodete Stellen an. Alles war angebaut. Das Landvolk sah
vergnugt aus, und in den Stadten herrschte Wohlstand und Freude. Aber
welch' eine Veranderung gegen eine so angenehme Scene! Ich bin in
partheischen Beschreibungen nicht erfahren, noch weniger kann ich die
Grauel der Verwilstung mit erdichteten Schilderungen schrecklicher
darstellen. Allein gewiss selbst Krieger, welche ein edles Herz und
Gefuhl besitzen, wurden durch den Anblick dieser Scenen zu Thranen
bewegt werden. Das ganze Land, mein werthes Vaterland, liegt da gleich
einer Wuste. Der Ackerbau und die Viehzucht haben aufgehort. Der Bauer
und der Hirt sind Soldaten worden, und in den Stadten sieht man nur
Greise, Weiber, und Kinder, vielleicht noch hie und da einen jungen
Mann, der aber durch empfangene Wunden ein Kruppel ist und den ihn
umgebenden kleinen Knaben die Geschichte einer jeden Wunde mit einem so
pathetischen Heldenton erzahlt, dassihr Herz schon der Trommel folgt,
ehe sie recht gehen konnen. Was aber das Elend auf den hochsten Gipfel
bringt, sind die immer abwechselnden Vorruckungen und Zuruckziehungen
beider Armeen, da selbst die, so sich unsre Freunde nennen, beim Abzuge
alles mitnehmen und verheeren, und wenn sie wieder kommen, gleich viel
wieder herbei geschafft haben wollen. Von Dero Gerechtigkeit, Sire,
hoffen wir Hulfe in dieser aussersten Noth. An Sie, Sire, mogen auch
Frauen, ja selbst Kinder ihre Klagen bringen. Sie, die sich auch zur
niedrigsten Klasse gutigst herablassen, und dadurch, wenn es moglich
ist, noch grosser werden, als selbst durch ihre Siege, werden die
meinigen nicht unerhort lassen und, zur Ehre Dero eigenen Ruhmes,
Bedruckungen und Drangsalen abhelfen, welche wider alle Menschenliebe
und wider alle gute Kriegszucht streiten. Ich bin &c."
"MAY IT PLEASE YOUR MAJESTY, "I am at a loss whether I shall
congratulate or condole with you on your late victory; since the same
success that has covered you with laurels has overspread the Couutry of
MecklenburgH with desolation. I know, Sire, that it seems unbecoming my
sex, in this age of vicious refinement, to feel for one's Country, to
lament the horrors of war, or wish for the return of peace. I know you
may think it more properly my province to study the art of pleasing, or
to turn my thoughts to subjects of a more domestic nature: but, however
unbecoming it may be in me, I can't resist the desire of interceding for
this unhappy people.
"It was but a very few years ago that this territory wore the most
pleasing appearance. The Country was cultivated, the peasant looked
cheerful, and the towns abounded with riches and festivity. What an
alteration at present from such a charming scene! I am not expert at
description, nor can my fancy add any horrors to the picture; but sure
even conquerors themselves would weep at the hideous prospect now
before me. The whole Country, my dear Country, lies one frightful waste,
presenting only objects to excite terror, pity and despair. The
business of the husbandman and the shepherd are quite discontinued; the
husbandman and the shepherd are become soldiers themselves, and help to
ravage the soil they formerly occupied. The towns are inhabited only by
old men, women and children; perhaps here and there a warrior, by wounds
and loss of limbs rendered unfit for service, left at his door; his
little children hang round him, ask a history of every wound, and grow
themselves soldiers before they find strength for the field. But this
were nothing, did we not feel the alternate insolence of either army,
as it happens to advance or retreat. It is impossible to express the
confusion, even those who call themselves our friends create. Even those
from whom we might expect redress, oppress us with new calamities. From
your justice, therefore, it is that we hope relief; to you even children
and women may complain, whose humanity stoops to the meanest petition,
and whose power is capable of repressing the greatest injustice.
"I am, Sire, &c."
It is remarked that this Young Lady, so amiably melodious in tone,
though she might address to King Friedrich, seems to be writing to
the wind; and that she gives nothing of fact or picture in regard to
Mecklenburg, especially to Mecklenburg-STRELITZ, but what is taken from
her own beautiful young brain. All operatic, vague, imaginary,--some of
it expressly untrue. [In Mecklenburg-SCHWERIN, which had always to smart
sore for its Duke and the line he took, the Swedes, this year, as usual
(but, TILL Torgau, with more hope than usual), had been trying for
winter-quarters: and had by the Prussians, as usual, been hunted
out,--Eugen of Wurtemberg speeding thither, directly after Torgau;
Rostock his winter-quarters;--who, doubtless with all rigor, is levying
contributions for Prussian behoof. But as to Mecklenburg-Strelitz,--see,
for example, in SCHONING, iii. 30 &c., an indirect but altogether
conclusive proof of the perfectly amicable footing now and always
subsisting there; Friedrich reluctant to intrude even with a small
request or solicitation, on Eugen's behalf, at this time.] So that
latterly there have been doubts as to its authenticity altogether.
["Boll, _Geschichte Mecklenburgs mit besonderer Berucksichtigung der
Culturgeschichte_ (Neubrandenburg, 1856), ii. 303-305;"--cited by
Giesebrecht, who himself takes the opposite view.] And in fact the
Piece has a good deal the air of some School-Exercise, Model of
Letter-writing, Patriotic Aspiration or the like;--thrown off, shall
we say, by the young Parson of Mirow (Charlotte's late Tutor), with
Charlotte there to SIGN; or by some Patriotic Schoolmaster elsewhere,
anywhere, in a moment of enthusiasm, and without any Charlotte but
a hypothetic one? Certainly it is difficult to fancy how a modest,
rational, practical young person like Charlotte can have thought of so
airy a feat of archery into the blue! Charlotte herself never disavowed
it, that I heard of; and to Colonel Grahame the Ex-Jacobite, hunting
about among potential Queens of England, for behoof of Bute and of a
certain Young King and King's Mother, the Letter did seem abundantly
unquestionable and adorable. Perhaps authentic, after all;--and
certainly small matter whether or not.