THE TIDE OF EVENTS.
Public European affairs require little remembrance; the War burning well
to leeward of us henceforth. A huge world of smoky chaos; the special
fires of it, if there be anything of fire, are all the more clear far
in the distance. Of which sort, and of which only, the reader is to have
notice. Marechal de Saxe--King Louis oftenest personally there, to
give his name and countenance to things done--is very glorious in
the Netherlands; captures, sometimes by surprisal, place after place
(beautiful surprisal of Brussels last winter); with sieges of Antwerp,
Mons, Charleroi, victoriously following upon Brussels: and, before the
end of 1746, he is close upon Holland itself; intent on having Namur and
Maestricht; for which the poor Sea-Powers, with a handful of Austrians,
fight two Battles, and are again beaten both times. [1. Battle of
Roucoux, 11th October, 1746; Prince Karl commanding, English taking
mainly the stress of fight;--Saxe having already outwitted poor Karl,
and got Namur. 2. Battle of Lawfelt, or Lauffeld, called also of VAL, 2d
July, 1747; Royal Highness of Cumberland commanding (and taking most
of the stress; Ligonier made prisoner, &c.),--Dutch fighting ill, and
Bathyani and his Austrians hardly in the fire at all.] A glorious,
ever-victorious Marechal; and has an Army very "high-toned," in more
than one sense: indeed, I think, one of the loudest-toned Armies ever
on the field before. Loud not with well-served Artillery alone, but with
play-actor Thunder-barrels (always an itinerant Theatre attends), with
gasconading talk, with orgies, debaucheries,--busy service of the Devil,
AND pleasant consciousness that we are Heaven's masterpiece, and are
in perfect readiness to die at any moment;--our ELASTICITY and agility
("ELAN" as we call it) well kept up, in that manner, for the time being.
Hungarian Majesty, contrary to hope, neglects the Netherlands, "Holland
and England, for their own sake, will manage there!"--and directs all
her resources, and her lately Anti-Prussian Armies (General Browne
leading them) upon Italy, as upon the grand interest now. Little to the
comfort of the Sea-Powers. But Hungarian Majesty is decided to cut
in upon the French and Spaniards, in that fine Country,--who had been
triumphing too much of late; Maillebois and Senor de Gages doing their
mutual exploits (though given to quarrel); Don Philip wintering in Milan
even (1745-1746); and the King of Sardinia getting into French courses
again.
Strong cuts her Hungarian Majesty does inflict, on the Italian side;
tumbles Infant Philip out of Milan and his Carnival gayeties, in plenty
of hurry; besieges Genoa, Marquis Botta d'Adorno (our old acquaintance
Botta) her siege-captain, a native of this region; brings back the
wavering Sardinian Majesty; captures Genoa, and much else. Captures
Genoa, we say,--had not Botta been too rigorous on his countrymen, and
provoked a revolt again, Revolt of Genoa, which proved difficult to
settle. In fine, Hungarian Majesty has, in the course of this year 1746,
with aid of the reconfirmed Sardinian Majesty, satisfactorily beaten the
French and Spaniards. Has--after two murderous Battles gained over the
Maillebois-Gages people--driven both French and Spaniards into corners,
Maillebois altogether home again across the Var;--nay has descended in
actual Invasion upon France itself. And, before New-year's day,
1747, General Browne is busy besieging Antibes, aided by English
Seventy-fours; so that "sixty French Battalions" have to hurry home,
from winter-quarters, towards those Provencal Countries; and Marechal de
Belleisle, who commands there, has his hands full. Triumphant enough
her Hungarian Majesty, in Italy; while in the Netherlands, the poor
Sea-Powers have met with no encouragement from the Fates or her.
["Battle of Piacenza" (Prince Lichtenstein, with whom is Browne, VERSUS
Gages and Maillebois), 16th June, 1746 (ADELUNG, v. 427); "Battle of
Rottofreddo" (Botta chief Austrian there, and our old friend Barenklau
getting killed there), 12th August, 1746 (IB. 462); whereupon, 7th
SEPTEMBER, Genoa (which had declared itself Anti-Austrian latterly, not
without cause, and brought the tug of War into those parts) is coerced
by Botta to open its gates, on grievous terms (IB. 484-489); so that,
NOVEMBER 30th, Browne, no Bourbon Army now on the field, enters Provence
(crosses the Var, that day), and tries Antibes: 5th-11th DECEMBER,
Popular Revolt in Genoa, and Expulsion of proud Botta and his Austrians
(IB. 518-523); upon which surprising event (which could not be mended
during the remainder of the War), Browne's enterprise became impossible.
See Buonamici,--Histoire de la derniere Revolution de Genes;--Adelung,
v. 516; vi. 31, &c. &c.] All which the reader may keep imagining at his
convenience;--but will be glad rather, for the present, to go with us
for an actual look at M. de Voltaire and the divine Emilie, whom we have
not seen for a long time. Not much has happened in the interim; one or
two things only which it can concern us to know;--scattered fragments of
memorial, on the way thus far:--
1. M. DE VOLTAIRE HAS, IN 1745, MADE WAY AT COURT. Divine Emilie picked
up her Voltaire from that fine Diplomatic course, and went home with him
out of our sight, in the end of 1743; the Diplomatic career gradually
declaring itself barred to him thenceforth. Since which, nevertheless,
he has had his successes otherwise, especially in his old Literary
course: on the whole, brighter sunshine than usual, though never without
tempestuous clouds attending. Goes about, with his divine Emilie, now
wearing browner and leaner, both of them; and takes the good and evil of
life, mostly in a quiet manner; sensible that afternoon is come.
The thrice-famous Pompadour, who had been known to him in the Chrysalis
state, did not forget him on becoming Head-Butterfly of the Universe. By
her help, one long wish of his soul was gratified, and did not hunger or
thirst any more. Some uncertain footing at Court, namely, was at length
vouchsafed him:--uncertain; for the Most Christian Majesty always rather
shuddered under those carbuncle eyes, under that voice "sombre and
majestious," with such turns lying in it:--some uncertain footing at
Court; and from the beginning of 1745, his luck, in the Court spheres,
began to mount in a wonderful and world-evident manner. On grounds
tragically silly, as he thought them. On the Dauphin's Wedding,--a
Termagant's Infanta coming hither as Dauphiness, at this time,--there
needed to be Court-shows, Dramaticules, Transparencies, Feasts of
Lanterns, or I know not what. Voltaire was the chosen man; Voltaire and
Rameau (readers have heard of RAMEAU'S NEPHEW, and musical readers still
esteem Rameau) did their feat; we may think with what perfection, with
what splendor of reward. Alas, and the feat done was, to one of the
parties, so unspeakably contemptible! Voltaire pensively surveying Life,
brushes the sounding strings; and hums to himself, the carbuncle eyes
carrying in them almost something of wet:--
"MON Henri Quatre ET MA Zaire,
ET MON AMERICAIN Alzire,
NE M'ONT VALU JAMAIS UN SEUL REGARD DU ROI;
J'AVAIS MILLE ENNEMIS AVEC TRES PEU DE GLOIRE:
LES HONNEURS ET LES BIENS PLEUVENT ENFIN SUR MOI
POUR UN FARCE DE LA FOIRE."
["My HENRI QUATRE, my ZAIRE, my ALZIRE [high works very many], could
never purchase me a single glance of the King; I had multitudes of
enemies, and very little fame:--honors and riches rain on me, at last,
for a Farce of the Fair" (--OEuvres,--ii. 151). The "Farce" (which by no
means CALLED itself such) was PRINCESSE DE NAVARRE (--OEuvres,--lxxiii.
251): first acted 23d February, 1745, Day of the Wedding. Gentlemanship
of the Chamber thereupon (which Voltaire, by permission, sold, shortly
after, for 2,500 pounds, with titles retained), and appointment as
Historiographer Royal. Poor Dauphiness did not live long; Louis XVI.'s
Mother was a SECOND Wife, Saxon-Polish Majesty's Daughter.] Yes, my
friend; it is a considerable ass, this world; by no means the Perfectly
Wise put at the top of it (as one could wish), and the Perfectly Foolish
at the bottom. Witness--nay, witness Psyche Pompadour herself, is not
she an emblem! Take your luck without criticism; luck good and bad
visits all.
2. AND GOT INTO THE ACADEMY NEXT YEAR, IN CONSEQUENCE. In 1746, the
Academy itself, Pompadour favoring, is made willing; Voltaire sees
himself among the Forty: soul, on that side too, be at ease, and hunger
not nor thirst anymore. ["May 9th, 1746, Voltaire is received at the
Academy; and makes a very fine Discourse" (BARBIER, ii. 488).--OEuvres
de Voltaire,--lxxiii. 355, 385, and i. 97.] This highest of felicities
could not be achieved without an ugly accompaniment from the surrounding
Populace. Desfontaines is dead, safe down in Sodom; but wants not for
a successor, for a whole Doggery of such. Who are all awake, and giving
tongue on this occasion. There is M. Roi the "Poet," as he was then
reckoned; jingling Roi, who concocts satirical calumnies; who collects
old ones, reprints the same,--and sends Travenol, an Opera-Fiddler,
to vend them. From which sprang a Lawsuit, PROCES-TRAVENOL, of famous
melancholy sort. As Voltaire had rather the habit of such sad melancholy
Lawsuits, we will pause on this of Travenol for a moment:--
3. SUMMARY OF TRAVENOL LAWSUIT. "Monday, 9th May, 1746, was the Day
or reception at the Academy; reception and fruition, thrice-savory to
Voltaire. But what an explosion of the Doggeries, before, during and
after that event! Voltaire had tried to be prudent, too. He had been
corresponding with Popes, with Cardinals; and, in a fine frank-looking
way, capturing their suffrages:--not by lying, which in general he
wishes to avoid, but by speaking half the truth; in short, by advancing,
in a dexterous, diplomatic way, the uncloven foot, in those Vatican
precincts. And had got the Holy Father's own suffrage for MAHOMET (think
of that, you Ass of Mirepoix!), among other cases that might rise. When
this seat among the Forty fell vacant, his very first measure--mark it,
Orthodox reader--was a Letter to the Chief Jesuit, Father Latour, Head
of one's old College of Louis le Grand. A Letter of fine filial
tenor: 'My excellent old Schoolmasters, to whom I owe everything; the
representatives of learning, of decorum, of frugality and modest human
virtue:--in what contrast to the obscure Doggeries poaching about in
the street-gutters, and flying at the peaceable passenger!'
[In--Voltairiana, ou Eloges Amphigouriques,--&c. (Paris, 1748), i.
150-160, the LETTER itself, "Paris, 7th February, 1746;" omitted
(without need or real cause on any side) in the common Collections
of--OEuvres de Voltaire.--] Which captivated Father Latour; and made
matters smooth on that side; so that even the ANCIEN DE MIREPOIX said
nothing, this time: What could he say? No cloven foot visible, and the
Authorities strong.
"Voltaire had started as Candidate with these judicious preliminaries.
Voltaire was elected, as we saw; fine Discourse, 9th May; and on the
Official side all things comfortable. But, in the mean while, the
Doggeries, as natural, seeing the thing now likely, had risen to
a never-imagined pitch; and had filled Paris, and, to Voltaire's
excruciated sense, the Universe, with their howlings and their
hyena-laughter, with their pasquils, satires, old and new. So that
Voltaire could not stand it; and, in evil hour, rushed downstairs
upon them; seized one poor dog, Travenol, unknown to him as Fiddler or
otherwise; pinioned Dog Travenol, with pincers, by the ears, him for
one;--proper Police-pincers, for we are now well at Court;--and had a
momentary joy! And, alas, this was not the right dog; this, we say, was
Travenol a Fiddler at the Opera, who, except the street-noises, knew
nothing of Voltaire; much less had the least pique at him; but had taken
to hawking certain Pasquils (Jingler Roi's COLLECTION, it appears), to
turn a desirable penny by them.
"And mistakes were made in the Affair Travenol,--old FATHER Travenol
haled to prison, instead of Son,--by the Lieutenant of Police and
his people. And Voltaire took the high-hand method (being well at
Court):--and thereupon hungry Advocates took up Dog Travenol and his
pincered ears: 'Serene Judges of the Chatelet, Most Christian Populace
of Paris, did you ever see a Dog so pincered by an Academical Gentleman
before, merely for being hungry?' And Voltaire, getting madder and
madder, appealed to the Academy (which would not interfere); filed
Criminal Informations; appealed to the Chatelet, to the Courts above
and to the Courts below; and, for almost a year, there went on the
'PROCES-TRAVENOL:' [About Mayday, 1746, Seizure of Travenol; Pleadings
are in vigor August, 1746; not done April, 1747. _In--Voltairiana,--_ii.
141-206, Pleadings, &c., copiously given; and most of the original
Libels, in different parts of that sad Book (compiled by Travenol's
Advocate, a very sad fellow himself): see also--OEuvres de
Voltaire,--lxxiii. 355 n., 385 n.; IB. i. 97; BARBIER, ii. 487. All in a
very jumbled, dateless, vague and incorrect condition.] Olympian Jove
in distressed circumstances VERSUS a hungry Dog who had eaten dirty
puddings. Paris, in all its Saloons and Literary Coffee-houses (figure
the ANTRE DE PROCOPE, on Publication nights!), had, monthly or so,
the exquisite malign banquet; and grinned over the Law Pleadings: what
Magazine Serial of our day can be so interesting to the emptiest mind!
"Lasted, I find, for above a year. From Spring, 1746, till towards
Autumn, 1747: Voltaire's feelings being--Haha, so exquisite, all the
while!--Well, reader, I can judge how amusing it was to high and low.
And yet Phoebus Apollo going about as mere Cowherd of Admetus, and
exposed to amuse the populace by his duels with dogs that have bitten
him? It is certain Voltaire was a fool, not to be more cautious of
getting into gutter-quarrels; not to have a thicker skin, in fact."
PROCES-TRAVENOL escorting one's Triumphal Entry; what an adjunct! Always
so: always in your utmost radiance of sunshine a shadow; and in your
softest outburst of Lydian or Spheral symphonies something of eating
Care! Then too, in the Court-circle itself, "is Trajan pleased," or are
all things well? Readers have heard of that "TRAJAN EST-IL CONTENT?" It
occurred Winter, 1745 (27th November, 1745, a date worth marking), while
things were still in the flush of early hope. That evening, our TEMPLE
DE LA GLOIRE (Temple of Glory) had just been acted for the first time,
in honor of him we may call "Trajan," returning from a "Fontenoy
and Seven Cities captured:" [Seven of them; or even eight of a kind:
Tournay, Ghent, Bruges, Nieuport, Dendermond, Ath, Ostend; and nothing
lost but Cape Breton and one's Codfishery.]--
"Reviens, divin Trajan, vainqueur doux et terrible;
Le monde est mon rival, tous les coeurs sont a toi;
Mais est-il un coeur plus sensible,
Et qui t'adore plus que moi?"
[TEMPLE DE LA GLOIRE, Acte iv. (--OEuvres,--xii. 328).]
"Return, divine Trajan, conqueror sweet and terrible;
The world is my rival, all hearts are thine;
But is there a heart more loving,
Or that adores thee more than I?"
An allegoric Dramatic Piece; naturally very admirable at Versailles.
Issuing radiant from Fall of the Curtain, Voltaire had the farther honor
to see his Majesty pass out; Majesty escorted by Richelieu, one's
old friend in a sense: "Is Trajan pleased?" whispered Voltaire to his
Richelieu; overheard by Trajan,--who answered in words nothing, but in
a visible glance of the eyes did answer, "Impertinent Lackey!"--Trajan
being a man unready with speech; and disliking trouble with the people
whom he paid for keeping his boots in polish. O my winged Voltaire,
to what dunghill Bubbly-Jocks (COQS D'INDE) you do stoop with homage,
constrained by their appearance of mere size!--
Evidently no perfect footing at Court, after all. And then the
Pompadour, could she, Head-Butterfly of the Universe, be an anchor that
would hold, if gales rose? Rather she is herself somewhat of a gale, of
a continual liability to gales; unstable as the wind! Voltaire did
his best to be useful, as Court Poet, as director of Private
Theatricals;--above all, to soothe, to flatter Pompadour; and never
neglected this evident duty. But, by degrees, the envious Lackey-people
made cabals; turned the Divine Butterfly into comparative indifference
for Voltaire; into preference of a Crebillon's poor faded Pieces:
"Suitabler these, Madame, for the Private Theatricals of a Most
Christian Majesty." Think what a stab; crueler than daggers through
one's heart: "Crebillon?" M. de Voltaire said nothing; looked nothing,
in those sacred circles; and never ceased outwardly his worship, and
assiduous tuning, of the Pompadour: but he felt--as only Phoebus Apollo
in the like case can!"Away!" growled he to himself, when this atrocity
had culminated. And, in effect, is, since the end of 1746 or so, pretty
much withdrawn from the Versailles Olympus; and has set, privately in
the distance (now at Cirey, now at Paris, in our PETIT PALAIS there),
with his whole will and fire, to do Crebillon's dead Dramas into
living oues of his own. Dead CATILINA of Crebillon into ROME SAUVEE of
Voltaire, and the other samples of dead into living,--that stupid old
Crebillon himself and the whole Universe may judge, and even Pompadour
feel a remorse!--Readers shall fancy these things; and that the world is
coming back to its old poor drab color with M. de Voltaire; his divine
Emilie and he rubbing along on the old confused terms. One face-to-face
peep of them readers shall now have; and that is to be enough, or more
than enough:--
VOLTAIRE AND THE DIVINE EMILIE APPEAR SUDDENLY, ONE NIGHT, AT SCEAUX.
About the middle of August, 1747, King Friedrich, I find, was at
home;--not in his new SANS-SOUCI by any means, but running to and fro;
busy with his Musterings, "grand review, and mimic attack on Bornstadt,
near Berlin;" INVALIDEN-HAUS (Military Hospital) getting built; Silesian
Reviews just ahead; and, for the present, much festivity and moving
about, to Charlottenburg, to Berlin and the different Palaces;
Wilhelmina, "August 15th," having come to see him; of which fine visit,
especially of Wilhelmina's thoughts on it,--why have the envious Fates
left us nothing!
While all this is astir in Berlin and neighborhood, there is, among the
innumerable other visits in this world, one going on near Paris, in the
Mansion or Palace of Sceaux, which has by chance become memorable. A
visit by Voltaire and his divine Emilie, direct from Paris, I suppose,
and rather on the sudden. Which has had the luck to have a LETTER
written on it, by one of those rare creatures, a seeing Witness, who
can make others see and believe. The seeing Witness is little Madame de
Staal (by no means Necker's Daughter, but a much cleverer), known as one
of the sharpest female heads; she from the spot reports it to Madame du
Deffand, who also is known to readers. There is such a glimpse afforded
here into the actuality of old things and remarkable human creatures,
that Friedrich himself would be happy to read the Letter.
Duchesse du Maine, Lady of Sceaux, is a sublime old personage, with whom
and with whose high ways and magnificent hospitalities at Sceaux, at
Anet and elsewhere, Voltaire had been familiar for long years past.
[In--OEuvres de Voltaire,--lxxiii. 434 n, x. 8, &c., "Clog." and
others represent THIS Visit as having been to Anet,--though the record
otherwise is express.] This Duchess, grand-daughter of the great Conde,
now a dowager for ten years, and herself turned of seventy, has been a
notable figure in French History this great while: a living fragment
of Louis le Grand, as it were. Was wedded to Louis's "Legitimated"
Illegitimate, the Duc du Maine; was in trouble with the Regent d'Orleans
about Alberoni-Cellamare conspiracies (1718), Regent having stript her
husband of his high legitimatures and dignities, with little ceremony;
which led her to conspire a good deal, at one time. [DUC DU MAINE
with COMTE DE TOULOUSE were products of Louis XIV. and Madame de
Montespan:--"legitimated" by Papa's fiat in 1673, while still only young
children; DISlegitimated again by Regent d'Orleans, autumn, 1718; grand
scene, "guards drawn out" and the like, on this occasion (BARBIER, i.
8-11, ii. 181); futile Conspiracies with Alberoni thereupon; arrest
of Duchess and Duke (29th December, 1718), and closure of that poor
business. Duc du Maine died 1736; Toulouse next year; ages, each about
sixty-five. "Duc de Penthievre," Egalite's father-in-law, was Toulouse's
son; Maine has left a famous Dowager, whom we see. Nothing more of
notable about the one or the other.] She was never very beautiful; but
had a world of grace and witty intelligence; and knew a Voltaire when
she saw him. Was the soul of courtesy and benignity, though proud
enough, and carrying her head at its due height; and was always very
charming, in her lofty gracious way, to mankind. Interesting to all,
were it only as a living fragment of the Grand Epoch,--kind of French
Fulness of Time, when the world was at length blessed with a Louis
Quatorze, and Ne-plus-ultra of a Gentleman determined to do the handsome
thing in this world. She is much frequented by high people, especially
if of a Literary or Historical turn. President Henault (of the ABREGE
CHRONOLOGIQUE, the well-frilled, accurately powdered, most correct old
legal gentleman) is one of her adherents; Voltaire is another, that may
stand for many: there is an old Marquis de St. Aulaire, whom she calls
"MON VIEUX BERGER (my old shepherd," that is to say, sweetheart or flame
of love); [BARBIER, ii. 87; see ib. (i. 8-11; ii. 181, 436; &c.) for
many notices of her affairs and her.] there is a most learned President
de Mesmes, and others we have heard of, but do not wish to know. Little
De Staal was at one time this fine Duchess's maid; but has far outgrown
all that, a favorite guest of the Duchess's instead; holds now mainly by
Madame du Deffand (not yet fallen blind),--and is well turned of fifty,
and known for one of the shrewdest little souls in the world, at the
time she writes. Her Letter is addressed "TO MADAME DU DEFFAND, at
Paris;" most free-flowing female Letter; of many pages, runs on, day
after day, for a fortnight or so;--only Excerpts of it introducible
here:--
"SCEAUX, TUESDAY, 15th AUGUST, 1747.... Madame du Chatelet and Voltaire,
who had announced themselves as for to-day, and whom nobody had heard
of otherwise, made their appearance yesternight, near midnight; like two
Spectres, with an odor of embalmment about them, as if just out of their
tombs. We were rising from table; the Spectres, however, were hungry
ones: they needed supper; and what is more, beds, which were not ready.
The Housekeeper (CONCIERGE), who had gone to bed, rose in great haste.
Gaya [amiable gentleman, conceivable, not known], who had offered his
apartment for pressing cases, was obliged to yield it in this emergency:
he flitted with as much precipitation and displeasure as an army
surprised in its camp; leaving a part of his baggage in the enemy's
hands. Voltaire thought the lodging excellent, but that did not at all
console Gaya.
"As to the Lady, her bed turns out not to have been well made; they
have had to put her in a new place to-day. Observe, she made that
bed herself, no servants being up, and had found a blemish or DEFAUT
of"--word wanting: who knows what?--"in the mattresses; which I believe
hurt her exact mind, more than her not very delicate body. She has got,
in the interim, an apartment promised to somebody else; and she will
have to leave it again on Friday or Saturday, and go into that of
Marechal de Maillebois, who leaves at that time."
--Yes; Maillebois in the body, O reader. This is he, with the old
ape-face renewed by paint, whom we once saw marching with an "Army
of Redemption," haggling in the Passes about Eger, unable to redeem
Belleisle; marching and haggling, more lately, with a "Middle-Rhine
Army," and the like non-effect; since which, fighting his best in
Italy,--pushed home last winter, with Browne's bayonets in his back;
Belleisle succeeding him in dealing with Browne. Belleisle, and the
"Revolt of Genoa" (fatal to Browne's Invasion of us), and the Defence
of Genoa and the mutual worryings thereabout, are going on at a great
rate,--and there is terrible news out of those Savoy Passes, while
Maillebois is here. Concerning which by and by. He is grandson of the
renowned Colbert, this Maillebois. A Field-Marshal evidently extant, you
perceive, in those vanished times: is to make room for Madame on Friday,
says our little De Staal; and take leave of us,--if for good, so much
the better!
"He came at the time we did, with his daughter and grand-daughter: the
one is pretty, the other ugly and dreary [l'UNE, L'AUTRE; no saying
which, in such important case! Madame la Marechale, the mother
and grandmother, I think must be dead. Not beautiful she, nor very
benignant, "UNE TRES-MECHANTE FEMME, very cat-witted woman," says
Barbier; "shrieked like a devil, at Court, upon the Cardinal," about
that old ARMY-OF-REDEMPTION business; but all her noise did nothing].
[Barbier, ii, 332 ("November, 1742").]--M. le Marechal has hunted here
with his dogs, in these fine autumn woods and glades; chased a bit of
a stag, and caught a poor doe's fawn: that was all that could be got
there.
"Our new Guests will make better sport: they are going to have their
Comedy acted again [Comedy of THE EXCHANGE, much an entertainment with
them]: Vanture [conceivable, not known] is to do the Count de Boursoufle
(DE BLISTER or DE WINDBAG); you will not say this is a hit, any more
than Madame du Chatelet's doing the Hon. Miss Piggery (LA COCHONNIERE),
who ought to be fat and short." [L'ECHANGE, The Exchange, or WHEN SHALL
I GET MARRIED? Farce in three acts:--OEuvres, x. 167-222; used to be
played at Cirey and elsewhere (see plenty of details upon it, exact or
not quite so, IB. 7-9).]--Little De Staal then abruptly breaks off, to
ask about her Correspondent's health, and her Correspondent's friend old
President Henault's health; touches on those "grumblings and discords in
the Army (TRACASSERIES DE L'ARMEE)," which are making such astir; how M.
d'Argenson, our fine War-Minister, man of talent amid blockheads, will
manage them; and suddenly exclaims: "O my queen, what curious animals
men and women are! I laugh at their manoeuvres, the days when I have
slept well; if I have missed sleep, I could kill them. These changes of
temper prove that I do not break off kind. Let us mock other people, and
let other people mock us; it is well done on both sides.--[Poor
little De Staal: to what a posture have things come with you, in that
fast-rotting Epoch, of Hypocrisies becoming all insolvent!]
"WEDNESDAY, 16th. Our Ghosts do not show themselves by daylight. They
appeared yesterday at ten in the evening; I do not think we shall see
them sooner to-day: the one is engaged in writing high feats [SIECLE DE
LOUIS XV., or what at last became such]; the other in commenting Newton.
They will neither play nor walk: they are, in fact, equivalent to
ZEROS in a society where their learned writings are of no
significance.--[Pauses, without notice given: for some hours, perhaps
days; then resuming:] Nay, worse still: their apparition to-night has
produced a vehement declamation on one of our little social diversions
here, the game of CAVAGNOLE: ["Kind of BIRIBI," it would appear; in the
height of fashion then.] it was continued and maintained," on the part
of Madame du Chatelet, you guess, "in a tone which is altogether unheard
of in this place; and was endured," on the part of Serene Highness,
"with a moderation not less surprising. But what is unendurable is my
babble"--And herewith our nimble little woman hops off again into the
general field of things; and gossips largely, How are you, my queen,
Whither are you going, Whither we; That the Maillebois people are
away, and also the Villeneuves, if anybody knew them now; then how
the Estillacs, to the number of four, are coming to-morrow; and Cousin
Soquence, for all his hunting, can catch nothing; and it is a continual
coming and going; and how Boursoufle is to be played, and a Dame Dufour
is just come, who will do a character. Rubrics, vanished Shadows, nearly
all those high Dames and Gentlemen; LA PAUVRE Saint-Pierre, "eaten with
gout," who is she? "Still drags herself about, as well as she can;
but not with me, for I never go by land, and she seems to have the
hydrophobia, when I take to the water. [Thread of date is gone! I almost
think we must have got to Saturday by this time:--or perhaps it is only
Thursday, and Maillebois off prematurely, to be out of the way of
the Farce? Little De Staal takes no notice; but continues gossiping
rapidly:]
"Yesterday Madame du Chatelet got into her third lodging: she could not
any longer endure the one she had chosen. There was noise in it, smoke
without fire:--privately meseems, a little the emblem of herself! As to
noise, it was not by night that it incommoded her, she told me, but by
day, when she was in the thick of her work: it deranges her ideas. She
is busy reviewing her PRINCIPLES"--NEWTON'S PRINCIPIA, no doubt, but De
Staal will understand it only as PRINCIPES, Principles in general:--"it
is an exercise she repeats every year, without which the Principles
might get away, and perhaps go so far she would never find them again
[You satirical little gypsy!]. Her head, like enough, is a kind of
lock-up for them, rather than a birthplace, or natural home: and that is
a case for watching carefully lest they get away. She prefers the high
air of this occupation to every kind of amusement, and persists in not
showing herself till after dark. Voltaire has produced some gallant
verses [unknown to Editors] which help off a little the bad effect of
such unusual behavior.
"SUNDAY, 27th. I told you on Thursday [no, you did n't; you only meant
to tell] that our Spectres were going on the morrow, and that the Piece
was to be played that evening: all this has been done. I cannot give you
much of Boursoufle [done by one Vanture]. Mademoiselle Piggery [DE
LA COCHONNIERE, Madame du Chatelet herself] executed so perfectly the
extravagance of her part, that I own it gave me real pleasure. But
Vanture only put his own fatuity into the character of Boursoufle, which
wanted more: he played naturally in a Piece where all requires to be
forced, like the subject of it."--What a pity none of us has read this
fine Farce! "One Paris did the part of MUSCADIN (Little Coxcomb), which
name represents his character: in short, it can be said the Farce was
well given. The Author ennobled it by a Prologue for the Occasion;
which he acted very well, along with Madame Dufour as BARBE (Governess
Barbara),--who, but for this brilliant action, could not have put up
with merely being Governess to Piggery. And, in fact, she disdained the
simplicity of dress which her part required;--as did the chief actress,"
Du Chatelet herself (age now forty-one); "who, in playing PIGGERY,
preferred the interests of her own face to those of the Piece, and
made her entry in all the splendor and elegant equipments of a Court
Lady,"--her "PRINCIPLES," though the key is turned upon them, not unlike
jumping out of window, one would say! "She had a crow to pluck" [MAILLE A
PARTIR, "clasp to open," which is better] with Voltaire on this point:
but she is sovereign, and he is slave. I am very sorry at their going,
though I was worn out with doing her multifarious errands all the time
she was here.
"WEDNESDAY, 30th. M. le President [Henault] has been asked hither; and
he is to bring you, my Queen! Tried all I could to hinder; but they
would not be put off. If your health and disposition do suit, it will
be charming. In any case, I have got you a good apartment: it is the one
that Madame du Chatelet had seized upon, after an exact review of all
the Mansion. There will be a little less furniture than she had put in
it; Madame had pillaged all her previous apartments to equip this one.
We found about seven tables in it, for one item: she needs them of all
sizes; immense, to spread out her papers upon; solid, to support her
NECESSAIRE; slighter, for her nicknacks (POMPONS), for her jewels. And
this fine arrangement did not save her from an accident like that of
Philip II., when, after spending all the night in writing, he got his
despatches drowned by the oversetting of an ink-bottle. The Lady did not
pretend to imitate the moderation of that Prince; at any rate, he was
only writing on affairs of state; and the thing they blotted, on this
occasion, was Algebra, much more difficult to clean up again.
"This subject ought to be exhausted: one word more, and then it does
end. The day after their departure, I receive a Letter of four pages,
and a Note enclosed, which announces dreadful burly-burly: M. de
Voltaire has mislaid his Farce, forgotten to get back the parts, and
lost his Prologue: I am to find all that again [excessively tremulous
about his Manuscripts, M. de Voltaire; of such value are they, of such
danger to him; there is LA PUCELLE, for example,--enough to hang a man,
were it surreptitiously launched forth in print!]--I am to send him the
Prologue instantly, not by post, because they would copy it; to keep the
parts for fear of the same accident, and to lock up the Piece 'under
a hundred keys.' I should have thought one padlock sufficient for this
treasure! I have duly executed his orders." [--Madame de Graffigny
(Paris, 1820), pp. 283-291.]
And herewith EXPLICIT DE STAAL. Scene closes: EXEUNT OMNES; are off
to Paris or Versailles again; to Luneville and the Court of Stanislaus
again,--where also adventures await them, which will be heard of!
"Figure to yourself," says some other Eye-witness, "a lean Lady, with
big arms and long legs; small head, and countenance losing itself in a
cloudery of head-dress; cocked nose [RETROUSSE, say you? Very slightly,
then; quite an unobjectionable nose!] and pair of small greenish eyes;
complexion tawny, and mouth too big: this was the divine Emilie, whom
Voltaire celebrates to the stars. Loaded to extravagance with ribbons,
laces, face-patches, jewels and female ornaments; determined to be
sumptuous in spite of Economics, and pretty in spite of Nature:" Pooh,
it is an enemy's hand that paints! "And then by her side," continues he,
"the thin long figure of Voltaire, that Anatomy of an Apollo, affecting
worship of her," [From Rodenbeck (quoting somebody, whom I have surely
seen in French; whom Rodenbeck tries to name, as he could have done,
but curiously without success), i. 179.]--yes, that thin long Gentleman,
with high red-heeled shoes, and the daintiest polite attitudes and
paces; in superfine coat, laced hat under arm; nose and under-lip ever
more like coalescing (owing to decay of teeth), but two eyes shining on
you like carbuncles; and in the ringing voice, such touches of speech
when you apply for it! Thus they at Sceaux and elsewhere; walking their
Life-minuet, making their entrances and exits.
One thing is lamentable: the relation with Madame is not now a
flourishing one, or capable again of being: "Does not love me as he did,
the wretch!" thinks Madame always;--yet sticks by him, were it but in
the form of blister. They had been to Luneville, Spring, 1747; happy
dull place, within reach of Cirey; far from Versailles and its cabals.
They went again, 1748, in a kind of permanent way; Titular Stanislaus,
an opulent dawdling creature, much liking to have them; and Father
Menou, his Jesuit,--who is always in quarrel with the Titular
Mistress,--thinking to displace HER (as you, gradually discover), and
promote the Du Chatelet to that improper dignity! In which he had not
the least success, says Voltaire; but got "two women on his ears instead
of one." It was not to be Stanislaus's mistress; nor a TITULAR one at
all, but a real, that Madame was fated in this dull happy place! Idle
readers know the story only too well;--concerning which, admit this
other Fraction and no more:--
"Stanislaus, as a Titular King, cannot do without some kind of Titular
Army,--were it only to blare about as Life-guard, and beat kettle-drums
on occasion. A certain tall high-sniffing M. de St. Lambert, a young
Lorrainer of long pedigree and light purse, had just taken refuge in
this Life-guard [Summer 1748, or so], I know not whether as Captain or
Lieutenant, just come from the Netherlands Wars: of grave stiff manners;
for the rest, a good-looking young fellow; thought to have some poetic
genius, even;--who is precious, surely, in such an out-of-the-way
place. Welcome to Voltaire, to Madame still more. Alas, readers know the
History,--on which we must not dwell. Madame, a brown geometric Lady,
age now forty-two, with a Great Man who has scandalously ceased to
love her, casts her eye upon St. Lambert: 'Yes, you would be the
shoeing-horn, Monsieur, if one had time, you fine florid fellow, hardly
yet into your thirties--' And tries him with a little coquetry; I
always think, perhaps in this view chiefly? And then, at any rate, as he
responded, the thing itself became so interesting: 'Our Ulysses-bow,
we can still bend it, then, aha! 'And is not that a pretty stag withal,
worth bringing down; florid, just entering his thirties, and with the
susceptibilities of genius! Voltaire was not blind, could he have helped
it,--had he been tremulously alive to help it. 'Your Verses to her, my
St. Lambert,--ah, Tibullus never did the like of them. Yes, to you
are the roses, my fine young friend, to me are the thorns:' thus
sings Voltaire in response; [--OEuvres,--xvii. 223 (EPITRE A M. DE
ST. LAMBERT, 1749); &c. &c. In--Memoires sur Voltaire par Longchamp
et Wagniere--(Paris, 1826), ii. 229 et seq., details enough and more.]
perhaps not thinking it would go so far. And it went,--alas, it went to
all lengths, mentionable and not mentionable: and M. le Marquis had
to be coaxed home in the Spring of 1749,--still earlier it had been
suitabler;--and in September ensuing, M. de St. Lambert looking his
demurest, there is an important lying-in to be transacted!
Newton's PRINCIPIA is, by that time, drawing diligently to its
close;--complicated by such far abstruser Problems, not of the geometric
sort! Poor little lean brown woman, what a Life, after all; what an End
of a Life!"--
WAR-PASSAGES IN 1747.
The War, since Friedrich got out of it, does not abate in animosity, nor
want for bloodshed, battle and sieging; but offers little now memorable.
March 18th, 1747, a ghastly Phantasm of a Congress, "Congress of Breda,"
which had for some months been attempting Peace, and was never able to
get into conference, or sit in its chairs except for moments, flew away
altogether; [In September, 1746, had got together; but would not take
life, on trying and again trying, and fell forgotten: February, 1747,
again gleams up into hope: March 18th and the following days, vanishes
for good (ADELUNG, v. 50; vi. 6, 62).] and left the War perhaps angrier
than ever, more hopelessly stupid than ever. Except, indeed, that
resources are failing; money running low in France, Parlements beginning
to murmur, and among the Population generally a feeling that glory is
excellent, but will not make the national pot boil. Perhaps all this
will be more effective than Congresses of Breda? Here are the few Notes
worth giving:
APRIL 23d-30th, 1747, THE FRENCH INVADE HOLLAND; WHEREUPON, SUDDENLY,
A STADTHOLDER THERE. "After Fontenoy there has been much sieging and
capturing in that Netherlands Country, a series of successes gloriously
delightful to Marechal de Saxe and the French Nation: likewise (in
bar of said sieging, in futile attempt to bar it) a Battle of Roucoux,
October, 1746; with victory, or quasi-victory, to Saxe, at least with
prostration to the opposite part."
And farther on, there is a Battle of Lauffeld coming, 2d July, 1747;
with similar results; frustration evident, retreat evident, victory not
much to speak of. And in this gloriously delightful manner Saxe and the
French Nation have proceeded, till in fact the Netherlands Territory
with all strongholds, except Maestricht alone, was theirs,--and they
decided on attacking the Dutch Republic itself. And (17th April, 1747)
actually broke in upon the frontier Fortresses of Zealand; found the
same dry-rotten everywhere; and took them, Fortress after Fortress, at
the rate of a cannon salvo each: 'Ye magnanimous Dutch, see what you
have got by not sitting still, as recommended!' To the horror and terror
of the poor Zealanders and general Dutch Population. Who shrieked to
England for help;--and were, on the very instant, furnished with a
modicum of Seventy-fours (Dutch Courier returning by the same); which
landed the Courier April 23d, and put Walcheren in a state of security.
[Adelung, vi. 105, 125-134.]
"Whereupon the Dutch Population turned round on its Governors, with
a growl of indignation, spreading ever wider, waxing ever higher:
'Scandalous laggards, is this your mode of governing a free Republic?
Freedom to let the State go to dry-rot, and become the laughing-stock
of mankind. To provide for your own paltry kindred in the
State-employments; to palaver grandly with all comers; and publish
melodious Despatches of Van Hoey? Had not Britannic Majesty, for his
dear Daughter's sake, come to the rescue in this crisis, where had we
been? We demand a Stadtholder again; our glorious Nassau Orange, to keep
some bridle on you!' And actually, in this way, Populus and Plebs, by
general turning out into the streets, in a gloomily indignant manner,
which threatens to become vociferous and dangerous,--cowed the Heads of
the Republic into choosing the said Prince, with Princess and Family, as
Stadtholder, High-Admiral, High-Everything and Supreme of the Republic.
Hereditary, no less, and punctually perpetual; Princess and Family to
share in it. In which happy state (ripened into Kingship latterly) they
continue to this day. A result painfully surprising to Most Christian
Majesty; gratifying to Britannic proportionately, or more;--and indeed
beneficial towards abating dry-rot and melodious palaver in that poor
Land of the Free. Consummated, by popular outbreak of vociferation,
in the different Provinces, in about a week from April 23d, when
those helpful Seventy-fours hove in sight. Stadtholdership had been in
abeyance for forty-five years. [Since our Dutch William's death, 1702.]
The new Stadtholder did his best; could not, in the short life granted
him, do nearly enough.--Next year there was a SECOND Dutch outbreak,
or general turning into the streets; of much more violent character;
in regard to glaringly unjust Excises and Taxations, and to 'instant
dismissal of your Excise-Farmers,' as the special first item. [Adelung,
vi. 364 et seq.; Raumer, 182-193 ("March-September, 1748"); or,
in--Chesterfield's Works,--Dayrolles's Letters to Chesterfield: somewhat
unintelligent and unintelligible, both Raumer and he.] Which salutary
object being accomplished (new Stadtholder well aiding, in a valiant and
judicious manner), there has no third dose of that dangerous remedy been
needed since.
"JULY 19th, FATE OF CHEVALIER DE BELLEISLE. At the Fortress of Exilles,
in one of those Passes of the Savoy Alps,--Pass of Col di Sieta,
memorable to the French Soldier ever since,--there occurred a lamentable
thing;" doubtless much talked of at Sceaux while Voltaire was there.
"The Revolt of Genoa (popular outburst, and expulsion of our poor friend
Botta and his Austrians, then a famous thing, and a rarer than now)
having suddenly recalled the victorious General Browne from his Siege
of Antibes and Invasion of Provence,--Marechal Duc de Belleisle,
well reinforced and now become 'Army of Italy' in general, followed
steadfastly for 'Defence of Genoa' against indignant Botta, Browne and
Company. For defence of Genoa; nay for attack on Turin, which would
have been 'defence' in Genoa and everywhere,--had the captious Spaniard
consented to co-operate. Captious Spaniard would not; Couriers to
Madrid, to Paris thereupon, and much time lost;--till, at the eleventh
hour, came consent from Paris, 'Try it by yourself, then!' Belleisle
tries it; at least his Brother does. His Brother, the Chevalier, is to
force that Pass of Exilles; a terrible fiery business, but the backbone
of the whole adventure: in which, if the Chevalier can succeed, he too
is to be Marechal de France. Forward, therefore, climb the Alpine stairs
again; snatch me that Fort of Exilles.
"And so, July 19th, 1747, the Chevalier comes in sight of the Place;
scans a little the frowning buttresses, bristly with guns; the dumb
Alps, to right and left, looking down on him and it. Chevalier de
Belleisle judges that, however difficult, it can and must be possible
to French valor; and storms in upon it, huge and furious (20,000, or
if needful 30,000);--but is torn into mere wreck, and hideous recoil;
rallies, snatches a standard, 'We must take it or die,'--and dies, does
not take it; falls shot on the rampart, 'pulling at the palisades with
his own hands,' nay some say 'with his teeth,' when the last moments
came. Within one hour, he has lost 4,000 men; and himself and his
Brother's Enterprise lie ended there. [Voltaire, xxv. 221 et seq.
(SIECLE DE LOUIS QUINZE, c. 22); Adelung, vi 174.] Fancy his poor
Brother's feelings, who much loved him! The discords about War-matters
(TRACASSERIES DE L'ARMEE) were a topic at Sceaux lately, as De Staal
intimated. 'Why starve our Italian Enterprises; heaping every resource
upon the Netherlands and Saxe?' Diligent Defence of Genoa (chiefly by
flourishing of swords on the part of France, for the Austrians were
not yet ready) is henceforth all the Italian War there is; and this
explosion at Exilles may fitly be finis to it here. Let us only say that
Infant Philip did, when the Peace came, get a bit of Apanage (Parma and
Piacenza or some such thing, contemptibly small to the Maternal heart),
and that all things else lapsed to their pristine state, MINUS only the
waste and ruin there had been."
JULY 12th-SEPTEMBER 18th: SIEGE OF THE CHIEF DUTCH FORTRESS. "Unexpected
Siege of Bergen-op-Zoom; two months of intense excitement to the Dutch
Patriots and Cause-of-Liberty Gazetteers, as indifferent and totally
dead as it has now become. Marechal de Saxe, after his victory at
Lauffeld, 2d July, did not besiege Maestricht, as had been the universal
expectation; but shot off an efficient lieutenant of his, one Lowendahl,
in due force, privately ready, to overwhelm Bergen-op-Zoom with sudden
Siege, while he himself lay between the beaten enemy and it. Bergen is
the heart, of Holland, key of the Scheld, and quite otherwise important
than Maestricht. 'Coehorn's masterpiece!' exclaim the Gazetteers;
'Impregnable, you may depend!' 'We shall see,' answered Saxe, answered
Lowendahl the Dane (who also became Marechal by this business); and
after a great deal of furious assaulting and battering, took the
Place September 18th, before daylight," by a kind of surprisal or
quasi-storm;--"the Commandant, one Cronstrom, a brave old Swede, age
towards ninety, not being of very wakeful nature! 'Did as well as could
be expected of him,' said the Court-Martial sitting on his case, and
forbore to shoot the poor old man."
[Adelung, vi. 184, 206;--"for Cronstrom," if any one is curious, "see
Schlotzer,--Schwedische Biographie,--ii. 252 (in voce)."] A sore stroke,
this of Bergen, to Britannic Majesty and the Friends of Liberty; who
nevertheless refuse to be discouraged."
DECEMBER 25th, RUSSIANS IN BEHALF OF HUMAN LIBERTY. "March of 36,000
Russians from the City of Moscow, this day; on a very long journey, in
the hoary Christmas weather! Most, Christian Majesty is ruinously short
of money; Britannic Majesty has still credit, and a voting Parliament,
but, owing to French influence on the Continent, can get no recruits to
hire. Gradually driven upon Russia, in such stress, Britannic Majesty
has this year hired for himself a 35,000 Russians; 30,000 regular foot;
4,000 ditto horse, and 1,000 Cossacks;--uncommonly cheap, only 150,000
pounds the lot, not, 4 pounds per head by the year. And, in spite
of many difficulties and hagglings, they actually get on march, from
Moscow, 25th December, 1747; and creep on, all Winter, through the
frozen peats wildernesses, through Lithuania, Poland, towards Bohmen,
Mahren: are to appear in the Rhine Countries, joined by certain
Austrians; and astonish mankind next Spring. Their Captain is one
Repnin, Prince Repnin, afterwards famous enough in those Polish
Countries;"--which is now the one point interesting to us in the thing.
"Their Captain WAS, first, to be Lacy, old Marshal Lacy; then, failing
Lacy, 'Why not General Keith?'--but proves to be Repnin, after much
hustling and intriguing:" Repnin, not Keith, that is the interesting
point.
"Such march of the Russians, on behalf of Human Liberty, in pay of
Britannic Majesty, is a surprising fact; and considerably discomposes
the French. Who bestir themselves in Sweden and elsewhere against Russia
and it: with no result,--except perhaps the incidental one, of getting
our esteemed old friend Guy Dickens, now Sir Guy, dismissed from
Stockholm, and we hope put on half-pay on his return home." [Adelung,
vi. 250, 302:--Sir Guy, not yet invalided, "went to Russia," and other
errands.]
MARSHAL KEITH COMES TO PRUSSIA (September, 1747).
"Much hustling and intriguing," it appears, in regard to the Captaincy
of these Russians. Concerning which there is no word worthy to be
said,--except for one reason only, That it finished off the connection
of General Keith with Russia. That this of seeing Repnin, his junior and
inferior, preferred to him, was, of many disgusts, the last drop which
made the cup run over;--and led the said General to fling it from him,
and seek new fields of employment. From Hamburg, having got so far,
he addresses himself, 1st September, 1747, to Friedrich, with offer
of service; who grasps eagerly at the offer: "Feldmarschall your rank;
income, $1,200 a year; income, welcome, all suitable:"--and, October
28th, Feldmarschall Keith finishes, at Potsdam, a long Letter to his
Brother Lord Marischal, in these words, worth giving, as those of a very
clear-eyed sound observer of men and things:--
"I have now the honor, and, which is still more, the pleasure, of being
with the King at Potsdam; where he ordered me to come," 17th current,
"two days after he declared me Fieldmarshal: Where I have the honor to
dine and sup with him almost every day. He has more wit than I have wit
to tell you; speaks solidly and knowingly on all kinds of subjects; and
I am much mistaken if, with the experience of Four Campaigns, he is
not the best Officer of his Army. He has several persons," Rothenburg,
Winterfeld, Swedish Rudenskjold (just about departing), not to speak of
D'Argens and the French, "with whom he lives in almost the familiarity
of a friend,--but has no favorite;--and shows a natural politeness for
everybody who is about him. For one who has been four days about his
person, you will say I pretend to know a great deal of his character:
but what I tell you, you may depend upon. With more time, I shall know
as much of him as he will let me know;--and all his Ministry knows
no more." [Varnhagen van Ense,--Leben des Feldmarschalls Jakob
Keith--(Berlin, 1844,) p. 100; Adelung, vi. 244.]
A notable acquisition to Friedrich;--and to the two Keiths withal; for
Friedrich attached both of them to his Court and service, after their
unlucky wanderings; and took to them both, in no common degree. As will
abundantly appear.
While that Russia Corps was marching out of Moscow, Cocceji and his
Commissions report from Pommern, that the Pomeranian Law-stables are
completely clear; that the New Courts have, for many months back, been
in work, and are now, at the end of the Year, fairly abreast with it,
according to program;--have "decided of Old-Pending Lawsuits 2,400,
all that there were (one of them 200 years old, and filling seventy
Volumes); and of the 994 New ones, 772; not one Lawsuit remaining over
from the previous Year." A highly gratifying bit of news to his Majesty;
who answers emphatically, EUGE! and directs that the Law Hercules
proceed now to the other Provinces,--to the Kur-Mark, now, and Berlin
itself,--with his salutary industries. Naming him "Grand Chancellor,"
moreover; that is to say, under a new title, Head of Prussian Law,--old
Arnim, "Minister of Justice," having shown himself disaffected to
Law-Reform, and got rebuked in consequence, and sulkily gone into
private life. [Stenzel, iv. 321; Ranke, iii. 389.]
In February of this Year, 1747, Friedrich had something like a stroke
of apoplexy; "sank suddenly motionless, one day," and sat insensible,
perhaps for half an hour: to the terror and horror of those about
him. Hemiplegia, he calls it; rush of blood to the head;--probably
indigestion, or gouty humors, exasperated by over-fatigue. Which
occasioned great rumor in the world; and at Paris, to Voltaire's horror,
reports of his death. He himself made light of the matter: [To Voltaire,
22d February, 1747 (--OEuvres de Frederic,--xxii. 164); see IB. 164
n.] and it did not prove to have been important; was never followed by
anything similar through his long life; and produced no change in his
often-wavering health, or in his habits, which were always steady. He
is writing MEMOIRS; settling "Colonies" (on his waste moors); improving
Harbors. Waiting when this European War will end; politely deaf to the
offers of Britannic Majesty as to taking the least personal share in it.