The Soubise-Hildburghausen people had got rendezvoused at Erfurt about
August 25th; 50,000 by account, and no enemy within 200 miles of them;
and in the Versailles circles it had been expected they would proceed to
the "Deliverance of Saxony" straightway. What is to hinder?--Friedrich,
haggling with the Austrians at Bernstadt, could muster but a poor
23,000, when he did march towards Erfurt. In those same neighborhoods,
within reach of Soubise, is the Richelieu, late D'Estrees, Army; elated
with Hastenbeck, comfortably pushing Royal Highness of Cumberland,
who makes no resistance, step by step, into the sea; victoriously
plundering, far and wide in those countries, Hanover itself the
Head-quarter. In the Versailles circles, it is farther expected that
Richelieu, "Conqueror of Minorca," will shortly besiege and conquer
Magdeburg, and so crown his glories. Why not; were the "Deliverance of
Saxony" complete?
The whole of which turned out greatly otherwise, and to the sad
disappointment of Versailles. The Conqueror of Minorca is probably aware
that the conquering of Magdeburg, against one whose platforms are not
rotten, and who does not "lie always in his bed," as poor old Blakeney
did, will be a very different matter. And the private truth is, Marrchal
de Richelieu never turned his thoughts upon Magdeburg at all, nor upon
any point of war that had difficulties, but solely upon collecting
plunder for himself in those Countries. One of the most magnificent
marauders on record; in no danger, he, of becoming monitory and a
pendulum, like the 1,000 that already swing in that capacity to rear
of him! And he did manage, in this Campaign, which was the last of his
military services, so as to pay off at Paris "above 50,000 pounds of
debts; and to build for himself a beautiful Garden Mansion there, which
the mocking populations called 'Hanover Pavilion (PAVILION D'HANOVRE);'"
a name still sticking to it, I believe. [Barbier, iii. 256, 271.] Of the
Richelieu Campaign we are happily delivered from saying almost anything:
and the main interest for us turns now on that Soubise-Hildburghausen
wing of it,--which also is a sufficiently contemptible affair; not to be
spoken of beyond the strictly unavoidable.
Friedrich, with his 23,000 setting out from Dresden, August 30th, has a
march of about 170 miles towards Erfurt. He may expect to find--counting
Richelieu, if Royal Highness of Cumberland persist in acting ZERO as
hitherto--a confused mass of about 150,000 Enemies, of one sort and
other, waiting him ahead; not to think of those he has just left
behind;--and he cannot well be in a triumphant humor! Behind, before,
around, it is one gathering of Enemies: one point only certain, that
he must beat them, or else die. Readers would fain follow him in this
forlorn march; him, the one point of interest now in it: and readers
shall, if we can manage, though it is extremely difficult. For, on
getting to Erfurt, he finds his Soubise-Hildburghausen Army off on
retreat among the inaccessible Hills still farther westward; and has
to linger painfully there, and to detach, and even to march personally
against other Enemies; and then, these finished, to march back towards
his Erfurt ones, who are taking heart in the interim:--and, in short,
from September 1st to November 5th, there are two months of confused
manoeuvring and marching to and fro in that West-Saxon region, which
are very intricate to readers. November 5th is a day unforgettable:
but anterior to that, what can we do? Here, dated, are the Three
grand Epochs of the thing; which readers had better fix in mind as a
preliminary:--
1. SEPTEMBER 13th, Friedrich has got to Erfurt neighborhood; but Soubise
and Company are off westward to the Hills of Eisenach, won't come down;
Friedrich obliged to linger thereabouts, painfully waiting almost a
month, till
2. OCTOBER 11th, hearing that "15,000 Austrians" (that Stolpen Party,
left as rear-guard at Stolpen; Croats mainly, under a General Haddick)
are on march for Berlin, he rises in haste thitherward, through Leipzig,
Torgau, say 100 miles; hears that Haddick HAS been in Berlin (16th-17th
October) for one day, and that he is off again full speed with a ransom
of 30,000 pounds, which they have had to pay him: upon which Friedrich
calls halt in the Torgau country;--and would have been uncertain what to
do, had not
3. Soubise and Company, extremely elated with this Haddick Feat, come
out from their Hills, intent to deliver Saxony after all. So that
Friedrich has to turn back (October 26th-30th) through Leipzig again;
towards,--in fact towards ROSSBACH and NOVEMBER 5th, in his old Saale
Country, which does not prove so wearisome as formerly!
These are the cardinal dates; these let the reader recur to, if
necessary, and keep steadily in mind: it will then perhaps be possible
to intercalate, in a manner intelligible to him, what other lucent
phenomena there are; and these dismal wanderings, and miserablest two
months of Friedrich's life, will not be wholly a provoking blotch
of enigmatic darkness, but in some sort a thing with features in the
twilight of the Past.
I. FRIEDRICH'S MARCH TO ERFURT FROM DRESDEN--(31st August-13th
September, 1757).
The march to Erfurt was of twelve days, and without adventure to speak
of. Mayer and Free-Battalion had the vanguard, Friedrich there as usual;
main body, under Keith with Ferdinand and Moritz, following in several
columns: straight towards their goal; with steady despatch; for twelve
days;--weather often very wet. [Tempelhof, i. 229; Rodenbeck, i. 317
(not very correct): in Westphalen (ii. 20 &c.) a personal Diary of this
March, and of what followed on Duke Ferdinand's part.] Seidlitz, with
cavalry, had gone ahead, in search of one Turpin, a mighty hunter and
Hussar among the French, who was threatening Leipzig, threatening Halle:
but Turpin made off at sound of him, without trying fight; so that
Seidlitz had only to halt, and rejoin, hoping better luck another time.
A march altogether of the common type,--the stages of it not worth
marking except for special readers;--and of memorable to us offers only
this, if even this: at Rotha, in Leipzig Country, the eighth stage from
Dresden, Friedrich writes, willing to try for Peace if it be possible,
TO THE MARECHAL DUC DE RICHELIEU.
"ROTHA, 7th September, 1757.
"I feel, M. le Duc, that you have not been put in the post where you are
for the purpose of Negotiating. I am persuaded, however, that the Nephew
of the great Cardinal Richelieu is made for signing treaties no less
than for gaining battles. I address myself to you from an effect of the
esteem with which you inspire even those who do not intimately know you.
"'T is a small matter, Monsieur (IL S'AGIT D'UNE BAGATELLE): only to
make Peace, if people are pleased to wish it! I know not what your
Instructions are: but, in the supposition that the King your Master, zow
assured by your Successes, will have put it in your power to labor in
the pacification of Germany, I address to you the Sieur d'Elcheset"
(Sieur Balbi is the real name of him, an Italian Engineer of mine,
who once served with you in the Fontenoy times,--and some say he has
privately a 15,000 pounds for your Grace's acceptance,--"the Sieur
d'Elcheset), in whom you may place complete confidence.
"Though the events of this Year afford no hope that your Court still
entertains a favorable disposition for my interests, I cannot persuade
myself that a union which has lasted between us for sixteen years may
not have left some trace in the mind. Perhaps I judge others by myself.
But, however that may be, I, in short, prefer putting my interests into
the King your Master's hands rather than into any other's. If you have
not, Monsieur, any Instructions as to the Proposal hereby made, I beg of
you to ask such, and to inform me what the tenor of them is.
"He who has merited statues at Genoa [ten years ago, in those
ANTI-Austrian times, when Genoa burst up in revolt, and the French
and Richelieu beautifully intervened against the oppressors]; he who
conquered Minorca in spite of immense obstacles; he who is on the point
of subjugating Lower Saxony,--can do nothing more glorious than to
restore Peace to Europe. Of all your laurels, that will be the fairest.
Work in this Cause, with the activity which has secured you such rapid
progress otherwise; and be persuaded that nobody will feel more grateful
to you than, Monsieur le Duc,--Your faithful Friend,-- FREDERIC." [Given
in RODENBECK, i. 313 (doubtless from _Memoires de Richelieu,_ Paris,
1793, ix. 175, the one fountain-head in regard to this small affair):
for "the 15,000 pounds" and other rumored particulars, sea Retzow, i.
197; Preuss, ii. 84; _ OEuvres de Frederic,_ iv. 145.]
Richelieu, it appears by any evidence there is, went willingly into
this scheme; and applied at Versailles, as desired; with a peremptory
negative for result. Nothing came of the Richelieu attempt there; nor of
"CE M. DE MIRABEAU," if he ever went; nor of any other on that errand.
Needless to apply for Peace at Versailles (and a mere waste of your "sum
of 15,000 pounds," which one hopes is fabulous in the present scarcity
of money):--or should we perhaps have mentioned the thing at all, except
for the sake of Wilhelmina, whose fond scheme it is in this extremity of
fate; scheme which she tries in still other directions, as we shall see;
her Brother willing too, but probably with much less hope. If a civil
Letter and a bribe of Money will do it, these need not be spared.
This at Rotha is the day while Winterfeld, on Moys Hill, is meeting his
death. To-day at Pegau, in this neighborhood, Seidlitz, who could not
fall in with Turpin, has given the Hussars of Loudon a beautiful slap;
the first enemy we have seen on this march; and the last,--nothing
but Loudon and Hussars visibly about, the rest of those Soubise-Reichs
people dormant, as would seem. "D'Elcheset," Balbi, or whoever he
was, would not find Richelieu at Hanover; but at a place called
Kloster-Zeven, in Bremen Country, fifty or sixty miles farther on.
There, this day, are Richelieu with one Sporcken a Hanoverian, and
one Lynar a Dane, rapidly finishing a thing they were pleased to call
"Convention of Kloster-Zeven;" which Friedrich regarded as another huge
misfortune fallen on him,--though it proved to have been far the reverse
a while after. Concerning which take this brief Note; cannot be too
brief on such a topic:--
"Never was there a more futile Convention than that of Kloster-Zeven;
which filled all Europe with lamentable noises, indignations and
anxieties, during the remainder of that Year; and is now reduced, for
Europe and the Universe, to a silent mathematical point, or mere mark
of position, requiring still to be attended to in that character,
though itself zero in any other. Here are the main particulars, in their
sequence.
"August 3d, towards midnight, '11 P.M.' say the Books, Marechal de
Richelieu arrives in the D'Estrees Camp ('Camp of Oldendorf,' still only
one march west of Hastenbeck); to whom D'Estrees on the instant loftily
delivers up his Army; explains with loyalty, for a few days more, all
things needful to the new Commander; declines to be himself Second; and
loftily withdraws to the Baths of Aachen 'for his health.'
"Royal Highness of Cumberland is, by this time, well on Elbe-ward,
Ocean-ward. Till August 1st; for one week, Royal Highness of Cumberland
lay at Minden, some thirty odd miles from Hastenbeck; deploring that
sad mistake; but unpersuadable to stand, and try amendment of it: August
1st, the French advancing on him again, he moved off northward, seaward.
By Nienburg, Verden, Rothenburg, Zeven, Bremenvorde, Stade;--arrived at
Stade, on the tidal Waters of the Elbe, August 5th; and by necessity did
halt there. From Minden onwards, Richelieu, not D'Estrees, has had the
chasing of Royal Highness: one of the simplest functions; only that
the country is getting muddy, difficult for artillery-carriage (thinks
Richelieu), with an Army so dilapidated, hungry, short of pay; and that
Royal Highness, a very furious person to our former knowledge, might
turn on us like a boar at bay, endangering everything; and finally, that
one's desire is not for battle, but for a fair chance of plunder to pay
one's debts.
"Britannic Majesty, in this awful state of his Hanover Armaments,
has been applying at the Danish Court; Richelieu too sends off an
application thither: 'Mediate between us, spare useless bloodshed!'
[Valfons, p. 291.]--Whereupon Danish Majesty (Britannic's son-in-law)
cheerfully undertakes it; bids one Lynar bestir himself upon it. Count
Lynar, an esteemed Official of his, who lives in those neighborhoods;
Danish Viceroy in Oldenburg,--much concerned with the Scriptures, the
Sacred Languages and other seraphic studies,--and a changed man since we
saw him last in the Petersburg regions, making love to Mrs. Anton Ulrich
long ago! Lynar, feeling the axis of the world laid on his shoulder in
this manner, loses not a moment; invokes the Heavenly Powers; goes on
it with an alacrity and a despatch beyond praise. Runs to the Duke of
Cumberland at Stade; thence to Richelieu at Zeven; back to the Duke,
back to Zeven: 'Won't you; and won't YOU?' and in four short days
has the once world-famed 'Convention of Kloster-Zeven' standing on
parchment,--signed, ready for ratifying: 'Royal Highness's Army to go
home to their countries again [routes, methods, times: when, how, and
what next, all left unsettled], and noise of War to cease in those
parts.' Signed cheerfully on both sides 9th September, 1757; and Lynar
striking the stars with his sublime head. [Busching (who alone is exact
in the matter), _ Beitrage,_ iv. 167, 168,? Lynar: see Scholl, iii. 49;
Valfons, pp. 202, 203; _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iv. 143 (with correction
of Preuss's Note there).]
"Unaccountable how Lynar had managed such a difficulty. He says
seraphically, in a Letter to a friend, which the Prussian hussars got
hold of, 'The idea of it was inspired by the Holy Ghost:' at which the
whole world haha'd again. For it was a Convention vague, absurd, not
capable of being executed; ratification of it refused by both Courts, by
the French Court first, if that was any matter:--and the only thing now
memorable of it is, that IT was a total Futility; but, that there ensued
from it a Fact still of importance; namely:--
"That on the 5th of October following, Royal Highness quitted Stade,
and his wrecked Army hanging sorrowful there, like a flight of plucked
cranes in mid-air;--arrived at Kensington, October 12th; heard the
paternal Majesty say, that evening, 'Here is my son who has ruined
me, and disgraced himself!'--and thereupon indignantly laid down his
military offices, all and sundry; and ceased altogether to command
Armies, English or other, in this world. [In WALPOLE (iii. 59-64) the
amplest minuteness of detail.] Whereby, in the then and now diagram of
things, Kloster-Zeven, as a mathematical point, continues memorable in
History, though shrunk otherwise to zero!
"Pitt's magnanimity to Royal Highness was conspicuous. Royal Highness,
it is said, had been very badly used in this matter by his poor peddling
Father and the Hanover Ministers; the matter being one puddle of
imbecilities from beginning to end. He was the soul of honor; brave as
a Welf lion; but, of dim poor head; and had not the faintest vestige
[ALLERGERINGSTE says Mauvillon] of military skill: awful in the extreme
to see in command of British Armies! Adieu to him, forever and a day."
Ever since July 29th, three days after Hastenbeck, Pitt had been in
Office again; such the bombardment by Corporation-Boxes and Events
impinging on Britannic Majesty: but not till now, as I fancy, had Pitt's
way, in regard to those German matters, been clear to him. The question
of a German Army, if you must, have a No-General at the top of it, might
well be problematical to Pitt. To equip your strong fighting man,
and send him on your errand, regardless of expense; and, by way of
preliminary, cut the head off him, before saying "Good-speed to you,
strong man!" But with a General, Pitt sees that it can be different;
that perhaps "America can be conquered in Germany," and that, with a
Britannic Majesty so disposed, there is no other way of trying it. To
this course Pitt stands henceforth, heedless of the gazetteer cackle,
"Hah, our Pitt too become German, after all his talking!"--like a
seventy-four under full sail, with sea, wind, pilot all of one mind, and
only certain water-fowl objecting. And is King of England for the next
Four Years; the one King poor England has had this long while;--his hand
felt shortly at the ends of the Earth. And proves such a blessing to
Friedrich, among others, as nothing else in this War; pretty much his
one blessing, little as he expected it. Before long, Excellency Mitchell
begins consulting about a General,--and Friedrich dimly sees better
things in the distance, and that Kloster-Zeven had not been the
misfortune he imagined, but only "The darkest hour," which, it is said,
lies "nearest to the dawn."
II. THE SOUBISE HILDBURGHAUSEN PEOPLE TAKE INTO THE HILLS; FRIEDRICH
IN ERFURT NEIGHBORHOOD, HANGING ON, WEEK AFTER WEEK, IN AN AGONY OF
INACTION (13th September-10th October).
Friedrich's march has gone by Dobeln, Grimma, to Pegau and Rotha,
Leipzig way, but, with Leipzig well to right: it just brushes
Weissenfels to rightward, next day after Rotha; crosses Saale River near
Naumburg, whence straight through Weimar Country, Weimar City on your
left, to Erfurt on the northern side;--and,
"ERFURT, TUESDAY 13th SEPTEMBER, 1757, About 10 in the morning [listen
to a faithful Witness], there appeared Hussars on the heights to
northward:--'Vanguard of his Prussian Majesty!' said Erfurt with alarm,
and our French guests with alarm. And scarcely were the words uttered,
when said Vanguard, and gradually the whole Prussian Army [only some
9,000, though we all thought it the whole], came to sight; posting
itself in half-moon shape round us there; French and Reichs folk
hurrying off what they could from the Cyriaksberg and Petersberg, by the
opposite gates,"--towards Gotha, and the Hills of Eisenach.
"Think what a dilemma for Erfurt, jammed between two horns in this
way, should one horn enter before the other got out! Much parleying and
supplicating on the part of Erfurt: Till at last, about 4 P.M., French
being all off, Erfurt flung its gates open; and the new Power did enter,
with some due state: Prussian Majesty in Person (who could have hoped
it!) and Prince Henri beside him; Cavalry with drawn swords; Infantry
with field-pieces, and the band playing"--Prussian grenadier march, I
should hope, or something equally cheering. "The rest of the Vanguard,
and, in succession, the Army altogether, had taken Camp outside, looking
down on the Northern Gate, over at Ilgertshofen, a village in the
neighborhood, about two miles off." [_Helden-Geschichte,_ iv. 636, 637.]
That is the first sight Friedrich has of "LA DAUPHINE," as the
Versailles people call this Bellona, come to "deliver Saxony;" and she
is considerably coyer than had been expected. Many sad days, and ardent
vain vows of Friedrich, before he could see the skirt of her again! From
Ilgertshofen, northwestward to Dittelstadt, Gamstadt, and other poor
specks of villages in Gotha Territory, is ten or fifteen miles; from
Dittelstadt eastward to Buttstadt and Buttelstadt, in Weimar Country,
may be twenty-five: in this area, Friedrich, shifting about, chiefly
for convenience of quarters,--head-quarter Kirschleben for a while,
Buttelstadt finally and longest,--had to wander impatiently to and
fro for four weeks and more; no work procurable, or none worth
mentioning:--in the humor of a man whose House is on fire, flaming
out of every window, front and rear; who has run up with quenching
apparatus; and cannot, being spell-bound, get the least bucket of
it applied. And is by nature the rapidest soul now alive. Figure his
situation there, as it gradually becomes manifest to him!
For the present, DAUPHINESS Bellona, hurrying to the Hills, has left
some tagrag of remnant in Gotha. Whereupon, the second day, here is an
"Own Correspondent" again,--not coming by electric telegraph, but (what
is a sensible advantage) credible in every point, when he does come:--
"GOTHA, THURSDAY, 15th SEPTEMBER. Grand-Duke and Duchess, like everybody
else, have been much occupied all morning with the fact, that the
Prussian Army [Seidlitz and a regiment or two, nothing more] is
actually here; took possession of the Town-Gates and Main Guard this
morning,--certain Hungarian-French hussar rabble, hateful to every one
in Gotha, having made off in time, rapidly towards Eisenach and the
Hills.
"Towards noon, his Royal Majesty in highest person, with his Lord
Brother the Prince Henri's Royal Highness, arrived in Gotha; sent
straightway, by one of his Officers, a compliment to the Grand-Duke;
and 'would have the pleasure to come and dine, if his Serene Highness
permitted.' Serene Highness, self and Household always cordially
Friedrich's, was just about sitting down to dinner; and answered with
exuberantly glad surprise,--or was answering, when Royal Majesty himself
stept in with smiling face; and embracing the Duke, said: 'I timed
myself to arrive at this moment, thinking your Durchlaucht would be
at dinner, that I might be received without ceremony, and dine like a
neighbor among you.' Unexpected as this visit was, the joy of Duke
and Duchess," always fast friends to Friedrich, and the latter ever
afterwards his correspondent, "may be conceived, but not adequately
expressed; as both the Serenities were touched, in the most affecting
manner, by the honor of so great a King's sudden presence among them.
"His Majesty requested that the Frau von Buchwald, our Most Gracious
Duchess's Hof-Dame, whose qualities he much valued, might dine with
them,"--being always fond of sensible people, especially sensible women.
"The whole Highest and High company [Royal, that is, and Ducal] was,
during table, uncommonly merry. The King showed himself altogether
content; and his bright clever talk and sprightly sallies, awakening
everybody to the like, left not the least trace visible of the weighty
toils he was then engaged in;--as if the weightier these were, the less
should they fetter the noble openness (FREYMUTHIGKEIT) of this high
soul, which is not to be cast down by the heaviest burden.
"His Majesty having taken leave of Duke and Duchess, and graciously
permitted the chiefest persons of the Gotha Court to pay their respects,
withdrew to his Army." [Letter in _Helden-Geschichte,_ iv. 638, 639.]
Slept, I find elsewhere, "at Gamstadt, on the floor of a little Inn;"
meaning to examine Posts in that part, next morning.
Here has been a cheerful little scene for Friedrich; the last he has
in these black weeks. A laborious Predecessor, striving to elucidate,
leaves me this Note:--
"What a pity one knows nothing, nor can know, about this Duke and
Duchess, though their names, especially the latter's name, are much
tossed to and fro in the Books! We heard of them, favorably, in
Voltaire's time; and may again, at least of the Lady, who is henceforth
a Correspondent of Friedrich's. The above is a dim direct view of them,
probably our last as well as first. Duke's name is Friedrich III.; I do
believe, a man of solidity, honor and polite dignified sense, a highly
respectable Duke of Sachsen-Gotha, contented to be obscure, and quietly
do what was still do-able in that enigmatic situation. He is Uncle to
our George III.;--his Sister is the now Princess-Dowager of Wales, with
a Lord Bute, and I know not what questionable figures and intrigues, or
suspicions of intrigue, much about her. His Duchess, Louisa Dorothee,
is a Princess of distinguished qualities, literary tastes,--Voltaire's
Hostess, Friedrich's Correspondent: a bright and quietly shining
illumination to the circle she inhabits. Duke is now fifty-eight,
Duchess forty-seven; and they lost their eldest Son last year. There has
been lately a considerable private brabble as to Tutorage of the Duke
of Weimar (Wilhelmina's maddish Duke, who is dead lately; and a Prince
left, who soon died also, but left a Son, who grew to be Goethe's
friend); Tutorage claimed by various Cousins, has been adjudged to this
one, King Friedrich co-operating in such result.
"As to the famed Grand-Duchess, she is a Sachsen-Meiningen Princess,
come of Ernst the Pious, of Johann the Magnanimous, as her Husband
and all these Sachsens are: when Voltaire went precipitant, with such
velocity, from the Potsdam Heaven, she received him at Gotha; set him on
writing his HISTORY OF THE EMPIRE, and endeavored to break his fall. She
was noble to Voltaire, and well honored by that uncertain Spirit. There
is a fine Library at Gotha; and the Lady bright loves Books, and those
that can write them;--a friend of the Light, a Daughter of the Sun and
the Empyrean, not of Darkness and the Stygian Fens." [Michaelis, i. 517;
&c. &c.]
Friedrich's first Letter to her Highness was one of thanks, above a year
ago, for an act of kindness, act of justice withal, which she did to
one of his Official people. Here, on the morrow of that dinner, is the
second Letter, much more aerial and cordial, in which style they all
continue, now that he has seen the admired Princess.
TO THE MOST SERENE GRAND-DUCHESS OF SACHSEN-GOTHA.
DITTELSTADT, "16th September, 1757.
"MADAM,--Yesterday was a Day I shall never forget; which satisfied a
just desire I have had, this long while, to see and hear a Princess whom
all Europe admires. I am not surprised, Madam, that you subdue people's
hearts; you are made to attract the esteem and the homage of all who
have the happiness to know you. But it is incomprehensible to me how you
can have enemies; and how men representing Countries that by no means
wish to pass for barbarous, can have been so basely (INDIGNEMENT)
wanting in the respect they owe you, and in the consideration which is
due to all sovereigns [French not famous for their refined demeanor in
Saxony this time]. Why could not I fly to prevent such disorders, such
indecency! I can only offer you a great deal of good-will; but I feel
well that, in present circumstances, the thing wanted is effective
results and reality. May I, Madam, be so happy as to render you some
service! May your fortune be equal to your virtues! I am with the
highest consideration, Madam, your Highness's faithful Cousin,--F."
[_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xvii. 166.]
To Wilhelmina he says of it, next day, still gratified, though sad news
have come in the interim;--death of Winterfeld, for one black item:--
... "The day before yesterday I was in Gotha. It was a touching scene
to see the partners of one's misfortunes, with like griefs and like
complaints. The Duchess is a woman of real merit, whose firmness puts
many a man to shame. Madam de Buchwald appears to me a very estimable
person, and one who would suit you much: intelligent, accomplished,
without pretensions, and good-humored. My Brother Henri is gone to see
them to-day. I am so oppressed with grief, that I would rather keep my
sadness to myself. I have reason to congratulate myself much on account
of my Brother Henri; he has behaved like an angel, as a soldier, and
well towards me as a Brother. I cannot, unfortunately, say the same
of the elder. He sulks at me (IL ME BODE), and has sulkily retired to
Torgau, from whence, I hear, he is gone to Wittenberg. I shall leave him
to his caprices and to his bad conduct; and I prophesy nothing good for
the future, unless the younger guide him." ["Kirschleben, near Erfurt,
17th September, 1757" (_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xxvii. i. 306).]...
This is part of a long sad Letter to Wilhelmina; parts of which we may
recur to, as otherwise illustrative. But before going into that tragic
budget of bad news, let us give the finale of Gotha, which occurred the
next day,--tragi-comic in part,--and is the last bit of action in those
dreary four weeks.
GOTHA, 18th SEPTEMBER. "Since Thursday 15th, Major-General Seidlitz,"
youngest Major-General of the Army, but a rapidly rising man, "has
been Commandant in Gotha, under flourishing circumstances; popular and
supreme, though only with a force of 1,500, dragoons and hussars.
Monday morning early, Seidlitz's scouts bring word that the
Soubise-Hildburghausen people are in motion hitherward; French
hussars and Austrian, Turpin's, Loudon's, all that are; grenadiers
in mass;--total, say, 8,000 horse and foot, with abundance of
artillery;--have been on march all night, to retake Gotha; with all the
Chief Generals and Dignitaries of the Army following in their carriages,
for some hours past, to see it done. Seidlitz, ascertaining these
things, has but one course left,--that of clearing himself out, which
he does with orderly velocity: and at 9 A.M. the Dignitaries and their
8,000 find open gates, Seidlitz clean off; occupy the posts, with due
emphasis and flourish; and proceed to the Schloss in a grand triumphant
way,--where privately they are not very welcome, though one puts
the best face on it, and a dinner of importance is the first thing
imperative to be set in progress. A flurried Court, that of Gotha,
and much swashing of French plumes through it, all this morning, since
Seidlitz had to flit.
"Seidlitz has not flitted very far. Seidlitz has ranked his small
dragoon-hussar force in a hollow, two miles off; has got warning sent to
a third regiment within reach of him, 'Come towards me, and in a certain
defile, visible from Gotha eastward, spread yourselves so and so!'--and
judges by the swashing he hears of up yonder, that perhaps something may
still be done. Dinner, up in the Schloss, is just being taken from the
spit, and the swashing at its height, when--'Hah what is that, though?'
and all plumes pause. For it is Seidlitz, artistically spread into
single files, on the prominent points of vision; advancing again, more
like 15,000 than 1,500: 'And in the Defile yonder, that regiment, do you
mark it; the King's vanguard, I should say?--To horse!'
"That is Seidlitz's fine Bit of Painting, hung out yonder, hooked on
the sky itself, as temporary background to Gotha, to be judged of by the
connoisseurs. For pictorial effect, breadth of touch, truth to Nature
and real power on the connoisseur, I have heard of nothing equal by any
artist. The high Generalcy, Soubise, Hildburghausen, Darmstadt, mount in
the highest haste; everybody mounts, happy he who has anything to mount;
the grenadiers tumble out of the Schloss; dragoons, artillery tumble
out; Dauphiness takes wholly to her heels, at an extraordinary pace: so
that Seidlitz's hussars could hardly get a stroke at her; caught sixty
and odd, nine of them Officers not of mark; did kill thirty; and had
such a haul of equipages and valuable effects, cosmetic a good few of
them, habilatory, artistic, as caused the hussar heart to sing for joy.
Among other plunder, was Loudon's Commission of Major-General, just on
its road from Vienna [poor Mannstein's death the suggesting cause,
say some];--undoubtedly a shining Loudon; to whom Friedrich, next day,
forwarded the Document with a polite Note." [_Helden-Geschichte,_ iv.
640; Westphalen, ii. 37; _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iv, 147.]'
The day after this bright feat of Seidlitz's, which was a slight
consolation to Friedrich, there came a Letter from the Duchess, not of
compliment only; the Letter itself had to be burnt on the spot, being,
as would seem, dangerous for the High Lady, who was much a friend of
Friedrich's. Their Correspondence, very polite and graceful, but for
most part gone to the unintelligible state, and become vacant and
spectral, figures considerably in the Books, and was, no doubt, a
considerable fact to Friedrich. His Answer on this occasion may be
given, since we have it,--lest there should not elsewhere be opportunity
for a second specimen.
FRIEDRICH TO THE GRAND-DUCHESS OF SACHSEN-GOTHA.
"KIRSCHLEBEN, NEAB ERFURT, 20th September, 1757.
"MADAM,--Nothing could happen more glorious to my troops than that of
fighting, Madam, under your eyes and for your defence. I wish their help
could be useful to you; but I foresee the reverse. If I were obstinately
to insist on maintaining the post of Gotha with Infantry, I should ruin
your City for you, Madam, by attracting thither and fixing there the
theatre of the War; whereas, by the present course, you will only have
to suffer little rubs (PASSADES), which will not last long.
"A thousand thanks that you could, in a day like yesterday, find the
moment to think of your Friends, and to employ yourself for them.
[Seidlitz's attack was brisk, quite sudden, with an effect like
Harlequin's sword in Pantomimes; and Gotha in every corner, especially
in the Schloss below and above stairs,--dinner cooked for A, and eaten
by B, in that manner,--must have been the most agitated of little
Cities.] I will neglect nothing of what you have the goodness to tell
me; I shall profit by these notices. Heaven grant it might be for the
deliverance and the security of Germany!
"The most signal mark of obedience I can give you consists
unquestionably in doing your bidding with this Letter. [Burn it, so soon
as read.] I should have kept it as a monument of your generosity and
courage: but, Madam, since you dispose of it otherwise, your orders
shall be executed; persuaded that if one cannot serve one's friends, one
must at least avoid hurting them; that one may be less circumspect for
one's own interest, but that one must be prudent and even timid
for theirs. I am, with the highest esteem and the most perfect
consideration, Madam, your Highness's most faithful and affectionate
Cousin,--F." [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xvii. 167.]
From Erfurt, on the night of his arrival, finding the Dauphiness in such
humor, Friedrich had ordered Ferdinand of Brunswick with his Division
and Prince Moritz with his, both of whom were still at Naumburg, to go
on different errands,--Ferdinand out Halberstadt-Magdeburg way, whither
Richelieu, vulture-like, if not eagle-like, is on wing; Moritz to
Torgau, to secure our magazine and be on the outlook there. Both of them
marched on the morrow (November 14th): and are sending him news,--seldom
comfortable news; mainly that, in spite of all one can do (and it is
not little on Ferdinand's part, the Richelieu vultures, 80,000 of them,
floating onward, leagues broad, are not to be kept out of Halberstadt,
well if out of Magdeburg itself;--and that, in short, the general
conflagration, in those parts too, is progressive. [In Orlich's _First
Moritz,_ pp. 71-89; and in _Westphalen,_ ii. 23-143 (about Ferdinand):
interesting Documentary details, Autographs of Friedrich, &c., in regard
to both these Expeditions.] Moritz, peaceable for some weeks in Torgau
Country, was to have an eye on Brandenburg withal, on Berlin itself; and
before long Moritz will see something noticeable there!
From Preussen, Friedrich hears of mere ravagings and horrid cruelties,
Cossack-Calmuck atrocities, which make human nature shudder: [In
_Helden-Geschichte,_ iv. 427-437, the hideous details.] "Fight
those monsters; go into them at all hazards!" he writes to Lehwald
peremptorily. Lehwald, 25,000 against 80,000, does so; draws up, in
front of Wehlau, not far east of Konigsberg, among woody swamps, AUGUST
30th, at a Hamlet called GROSS-JAGERSDORF, with his best skill; fights
well, though not without mistakes; and is beaten by cannon and numbers.
[Tempelhof, i. 299; Retzow, i. 212; &c. &c. ("Russians lost about
9,000," by their own tale 5,000; "the Prussians 3,000" and the Field).]
Preussen now lies at Apraxin's discretion. This bit of news too is on
the road for Erfurt Country. Such a six weeks for the swift man, obliged
to stand spell-bound,--idle posterity never will conceive it; and
description is useless.
Let us add here, that Apraxin did not advance on Konigsberg, or farther
into Preussen at all; but, after some loitering, turned, to everybody's
surprise, and wended slowly home. "Could get no provision," said Apraxin
for himself. "Thought the Czarina was dying," said the world; "and
that Peter her successor would take it well!" Plodded slowly home, for
certain; Lehwald following him, not too close, till over the border.
Nothing left of Apraxin, and his huge Expedition, but Memel alone;
Memel, and a great many graves and ruins. So that Lehwald could be
recalled, to attend on the Swedes, before Winter came. And Friedrich's
worst forebodings did not take effect in this case;--nor in some others,
as we shall see!
LAMENTATION-PSALMS OF FRIEDRICH.
Meanwhile, is it not remarkable that Friedrich wrote more Verses, this
Autumn, than almost in any other three months of his life? Singular,
yes; though perhaps not inexplicable. And if readers could fairly
understand that fact, instead of running away with the shell of it, and
leaving the essence, it would throw a great light on Friedrich. He
is not a brooding inarticulate man, then; but a bright-glancing,
articulate; not to be struck dumb by the face of Death itself. Flashes
clear-eyed into the physiognomy of Death, and Ruin, and the Abysmal
Horrors opening; and has a sharp word to say to them. The explanation of
his large cargo of Verses this Autumn is, That always, alternating with
such fiery velocity, he had intolerable periods of waiting till
things were ready. And took to verses, by way of expectorating
himself, and keeping down his devils. Not a bad plan, in the
circumstances,--especially if you have so wonderful a turn for
expectoration by speech. "All bad as Poetry, those Verses?" asks the
reader. Well, some of them are not of first-rate goodness. Should have
been burnt; or the time marked which they took up, and whether it was
good time wasted (which I suppose it almost never was), or bad time
skilfully got over. Time, that is the great point; and the heart-truth
of them, or mere lip-truth, another. We must give some specimens, at any
rate.
Especially that notable Specimen from the Zittau Countries: the "Epistle
to Wilhelmina (EPITRE A MA SOEUR [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xii. 36-42.];"
which is the key-note, as it were; the fountain-head of much other
verse, and of much prose withal, and Correspondencing not with
Wilhelmina alone, of which also some taste must be given. Primary
EPITRE; written, I perceive, in that interval of waiting for Keith
and the magazines,--though the final date is "Bernstadt, August 24th."
Concerning which, Smelfungus takes, over-hastily, the liberty to say:
"Strange, is it not, to be on the point of fighting for one's existence;
overwhelmed with so many businesses; and disposed to go into verse in
addition! CONCEIVE that form of mind; it would illuminate something of
Friedrich's character: I cannot yet rightly understand such an aspect of
structure, and know not what to say of it, except 'Strange!'"--
Understand it or not, we do gather by means of it some indisputable
glimpses, nearly all the direct insight allowed us out of any source,
into Friedrich's inner man; what his thoughts were, what his humor was
in that unique crisis; and to readers in quest of that, these Pieces,
fallen obsolete and frosty to all other kinds of readers, are well worth
perusing, and again perusing. Most veracious Documents, we can observe;
nothing could be truer; Confessions they are, in the most emphatic
sense; no truer ever made to a Priest in the name of the Most High.
Like a soliloquy of Night-Thoughts, accidentally becoming audible to us.
Mahomet, I find, wrote the Koran in this manner. From these poor
Poems, which are voices DE PROFUNDIS, there might, by proper care and
selection, be constructed a Friedrich's Koran; and, with commentary and
elucidation, it would be pleasant to read. The Koran of Friedrich, or
the Lamentation-Psalms of Friedrich! But it would need an Editor,--other
than Dryasdust! Mahomet's Koran, treated by the Arab Dryasdust (merely
turning up the bottom of that Box of Shoulder-blades, and printing
them), has become dreadfully tough reading, on this side of the
Globe; and has given rise to the impossiblest notions about Mahomet!
Indisputable it is, Heroes, in their affliction, Mahomet and David, have
solaced themselves by snatches of Psalms, by Suras, bursts of Utterance
rising into Song;--and if Friedrich, on far other conditions, did the
like, what has History to say of blame to him?
Wilhelmina comes out very strong, in this season of trouble; almost the
last we see of our excellent Wilhelmina. Like a lioness; like a shrill
mother when her children are in peril. A noble sisterly affection is
in Wilhelmina; shrill Pythian vehemence trying the impossible. That a
Brother, and such a Brother, the most heroic now breathing, brave and
true, and the soul of honor in all things, should have the whole world
rise round him, like a delirious Sorcerer's-Sabbath, intent to hurl the
mountains on him,--seems such a horror and a madness to Wilhelmina. Like
the brood-hen flying in the face of wild dogs, and packs of hounds in
full trail! Most Christian Pompadour Kings, enraged Czarinas, implacable
Empress-Queens; a whole world in armed delirium rushes on, regardless of
Wilhelmina. Never mind, my noble one; your Brother will perhaps manage
to come up with this leviathan or that among the heap of them, at a good
time, and smite into the fifth rib of him. Your Brother does not the
least shape towards giving in; thank the Heavens, he will stand to
himself at least; his own poor strength will all be on his own side.
Wilhelmina's hopes of a Peace with France; mission of her Mirabeau,
missions and schemes not a few, we have heard of on Wilhelmina's part
with this view; but the notablest is still to mention: that of stirring
up, by Voltaire's means, an important-looking Cardinal de Tencin to
labor in the business. Eminency Tencin lives in Lyon, known to the
Princess on her Italian Tour;--shy of asking Voltaire to dinner on
that fine occasion,--but, except Officially, is not otherwise than
well-affected to Voltaire. Was once Chief Minister of France, and
would fain again be; does not like these Bernis novelties and Austrian
Alliances, had he now any power to overset them. Let him correspond
with Most Christian Majesty, at least; plead for a Peace with Prussia,
Prussia being so ready that way. Eminency Tencin, on Voltaire's
suggestion, did so, perhaps is even now doing so; till ordered to hold
HIS peace on such subjects. This is certain and well known; but nothing
else is known, or to us knowable, about it; Voltaire, in vague form,
being our one authority, through whom it is vain to hunt, and again
hunt. [_OEuvres (Memoires),_ ii. 92, 93; IB. i. 143; Preuss, ii. 84.]
The Dates, much more the features and circumstances, all lie buried
from us, and--till perhaps the Lamentation-Psalms are well edited--must
continue lying. As a fact certain, but undeniably vague.
Voltaire's procedure, one can gather, is polite, but two-faced; not
sublime on this occasion. In fact, is intended to serve himself. To the
high Princess he writes devotionally, ready to obey in all things; and
then to his Eminency Cardinal Tencin, it rather seems as if the tone
were: "Pooh! yes, your Eminency; such are the poor Lady's notions. But
does your Eminency take notice how high my connections are; what service
a poor obscure creature might perhaps do the State some day?" Friedrich
himself is, in these ways, brought into correspondence with Voltaire
again; and occasionally writes to him in this War, and ever afterwards:
Voltaire responds with fine sympathy, always prettily, in the enthusiasm
of the moment;--and at other times he writes a good deal about
Friedrich, oftenest in rather a mischievous dialect. "The traitor!"
exclaim some Prussian writers, not many or important, in our time. In
fact, there is a considerable touch of grinning malice (as of Monkey
VERSUS Cat, who had once burnt HIS paw, instead of getting his own
burnt), in those utterances of Voltaire; some of which the reader will
grin over too, without much tragic feeling,--the rather as they did
our Felis Leo no manner of ill, and show our incomparable SINGE with a
sparkle of the TIGRE in him; theoretic sparkle merely and for moments,
which makes him all the more entertaining and interesting at the
domestic hearth.
Of Friedrich's Lamentation-Psalms we propose to give the First and the
Last: these, with certain Prose Pieces, intermediate and connecting, may
perhaps be made intelligible to readers, and throw some light on these
tragic weeks of the King's History:--
1. EPITRE A MA SOEUR (First of the Lamentation-Psalms).--This is
the famed "Epistle to Wilhelmina," already spoken of; which the King
despatched from Bernstadt "August 24th," just while quitting those
parts, on the Erfurt Errand;--though written before, in the tedium of
waiting for Keith. The Piece is long, vehement, altogether sincere;
lyrically sings aloud, or declaims in rhyme, what one's indignant
thought really is on the surrounding woes and atrocities. We faithfully
abridge, and condense into our briefest Prose;--readers can add water
and the jingle of French rhymes AD LIBITUM. It starts thus:--
"O sweet and dear hope of my remaining days; O Sister, whose friendship,
so fertile in resources, shares all my sorrows, and with a helpful
arm assists me in the gulf! It is in vain that the Destinies have
overwhelmed me with disasters: if the crowd of Kings have sworn my ruin;
if the Earth have opened to swallow me,--you still love me, noble
and affectionate Sister: loved by you, what is there of misfortune?
[Branches off into some survey of it, nevertheless.]
"Huge continents of thunder-cloud, plots thickening against me [in those
Menzel Documents], I watched with terror; the sky getting blacker, no
covert for me visible: on a sudden, from the deeps of Hell, starts forth
Discord [with capital letter], and the tempest broke.
Ce fut dans ton Senat, O fouqueuse Angleterre!
Ou ce monstre inhumain fit eclater la guerre:
It was from thy Senate, stormful England, that she first launched out
War. In remote climates first; in America, far away;--between France and
thee. Old Ocean shook with it; Neptune, in the depths of his caves (SES
GROTTES PROFONDES), saw the English subjecting his waves (SES ONDES):
the wild Iroquois, prize of these crimes (FORFAITS), bursts out;
detesting the tyrants who disturb his Forests,"--and scalping Braddock's
people, and the like.
"Discord, charmed to see such an America, and feeble mortals crossing
the Ocean to exterminate one another, addresses the European Kings: 'How
long will you be slaves to what are called laws? Is it for you to bend
under worn-out notions of justice, right? Mars is the one God: Might is
Right. A King's business is to do something famous in this world.'
"O daughter of the Caesars," Maria Theresa, "how, at these words,
ambition, burning in thy soul, breaks out uncontrollable! Probity,
honor, treaties, duty: feeble considerations these, to a heart letting
loose its flamy passions; determining to rob the generous Germans of
their liberties; to degrade thy equals; to extinguish 'Schism' (so
called), and set up despotism on the wrecks of all."
"Huge project"--"FIER TRIUMVIRAT,"--what not: "From Roussillon and the
sunny Pyrenees to frozen Russia, all arm for Austria, and march at her
bidding. They concert my downfall, trample on my rights.
"The Daughter of the Caesars, proudly certain of victory,--'t is the
way of the Great, whose commonplace virtue, pusillanimous in reverses,
overbearing in success, cannot bridle their cupidity,--designates to the
Triumvirate what Kings are to be proscribed [Britannic George and me,
Reich busy on us both even now], and those ungrateful tyrants, by united
crime, immolate to each other, without remorse, their dearest allies."
For instance:--
"O jour digne d'oubli! Quelle atroce imprudence!
Therese, c'est l'Anglais que tu vends a la France:
Theresa! it is England thou art selling to France;"--Yes, a thing worth
noting. "Thy generous support in thy first adversities; thy one friend
then, when a world had risen to devour thee. Thou reignest now:--but it
was England alone that saved thee anything to reign over!
Tu regnes, mats lui seul a sauve tes etats:
Les bienfaits chez les rois ne font que des ingrats.
"And thou, lazy Monarch,"--stupid Louis, let us omit him:--"Pompadour,
selling her lover to the highest bidder, makes France, in our day,
Austria's slave!" We omit Kolin Battle, too, spoken of with a proud
modesty (Prag is not spoken of at all); and how the neighboring ravenous
Powers, on-lookers hitherto, have opened their throats with one accord
to swallow Prussia, thinking its downfall certain: "Poor mercenary
Sweden, once so famous under its soldier Kings, now debased by a venal
Senate;"--Sweden, "what say I? my own kindred [foolish Anspach and
others], driven by perverse motives, join in the plot of horrors, and
become satellites of the prospering Triumvirs.
"And thou, loved People [my own Prussians], whose happiness is my charge
[notable how often he repeats this] it is thy lamentable destiny, it is
the danger which hangs over thee, that pierces my soul. The pomps of my
rank I could resign without regret. But to rescue thee, in this black
crisis, I will spend my heart's blood. Whose IS that blood but thine?
With joy will I rally my warriors to avenge thy affront; defy death at
the foot of the ramparts [of Daun and his Eckartsberg, ahead yonder],
and either conquer, or be buried under thy ruins." Very well; but ah,--
"Preparing with such purpose, ye Heavens, what mournful cries are those
that reach us: 'Death haa laid low thy Mother!'--Hah, that was the last
stroke, then, which angry Fate had reserved for me.--O Mother, Death
flies my misfortunes, and spreads his livid horrors over thee! [Very
tender, very sad, what he says of his Mother; but must be omitted and
imagined. General finale is:]
"Thus Destiny with a deluge of torments fills the poisoned remnant of my
days. The present is hideous to me, the future unknown: what, you say I
am the creature of a BENEficent Being?--
Quoi serais-fe forme par un Dieu bienfaisati?
Ah! s'il etait si bon, tendre pour son ouvrage"--
--Husht, my little Titan!
"And now, ye promoters of sacred lies, go on leading cowards by the
nose, in the dark windings of your labyrinth:--to me the enchantment
is ended, the charm disappears. I see that all men are but the sport of
Destiny. And that, if there do exist some Gloomy and Inexorable Being,
who allows a despised herd of creatures to go on multiplying here, he
values them as nothing; looks down on a Phalaris crowned, on a Socrates
in chains; on our virtues, our misdeeds, on the horrors of war, and all
the cruel plagues which ravage Earth, as a thing indifferent to him.
Wherefore, my sole refuge and only haven, loved Sister, is in the arms
of Death:--
Ainsi mon seul asile et mon unique port
Se trouve, chere soeur, dans les bras de la mort."
[OEuvres, xii. 36-42; is sent off to Wilhelmina 24th August.]
2. WILHELMINA TO VOLTAIRE, WITH SOMETHING OF ANSWER (First of certain
intercalary Prose Pieces).--Wilhelmina has been writing to Voltaire
before, and getting consolations since Kolin; but her Letters are lost,
till this the earliest that is left us:--
BAIREUTH, 19th AUGUST, 1757 (TO VOLTAIRE).--"One first knows one's
friends when misfortunes arrive. The Letter you have written does honor
to your way of thinking. I cannot tell you how much I am sensible to
what you have done [set Cardinal Tencin astir, with result we will
hope]. The King, my Brother, is as much so as I. You will find a Note
here, which he bids me transmit to you [Note lost]. That great man
is still the same. He supports his misfortunes with a courage and a
firmness worthy of him. He could not get the Note transcribed. It began
by verses. Instead of throwing sand on it, he took the ink-bottle; that
is the reason why it is cut in two." --This Note, we say, is lost to
us;--all but accidentally thus: Voltaire, 12th September, writes twice
to friends. Writing to his D'Argentals, he says: "The affairs of this
King [Friedrich] go from bad to worse. I know not if I told you of the
Letter he wrote to me about three weeks ago [say August 17th-18th: this
same Note through Wilhelmina, evidently]: 'I have learned,' says he,
'that you had interested yourself in my successes and misfortunes. There
remains to me nothing but to sell my life dear,' &c. His Sister writes
me one much more lamentable;" the one we are now reading:--
"I am in a frightful state; and will not survive the destruction of my
House and Family. That is the one consolation that remains to me. You
will have fine subjects for making Tragedies of. O times! O manners!
You will, by the illusory representation, perhaps draw tears; while all
contemplate with dry eyes the reality of these miseries: the downfall of
a whole House, against which, if the truth were known, there is no solid
complaint. I cannot write farther of it: my soul is so troubled that I
know not what I am doing. But whatever happen, be persuaded that I am
more than ever your friend,--WILHELMINA." [In _OEuvres de Frederic,_
lxxvii. 30.]
Friedrich, while Wilhelmina writes so, is at the foot of the
Eckartsberg, eagerly manoeuvring with the Austrians, in hopes of getting
battle out of them,--which he cannot. Friedrich, while he wrote that
Note to Voltaire, and instead of sand-box shook the ink-bottle over it,
was just going out on that errand.
VOLTAIRE, 12th SEPTEMBER (to a Lady whose Son is in the D'Estrees wars).
[Ib. lxxii. 55. 56.]--"Here are mighty revolutions, Madame; and we are
not at the end yet. They say there have 18,000 Hanoverians been disposed
of at Stade [Convention of Kloster-Zeven]. That is no small matter. I
can hope M. Richelieu [who is "MON HEROS," when I write to himself] will
adorn his head with the laurels they have stuck in his pocket. I wish
Monsieur your Son abundance of honor and glory without wounds, and to
you, Madame, unalterable health. The King of Prussia has written me a
very touching Letter [one line of which we have read]; but I have always
Madame Denis's adventure on my heart," at Frankfurt yonder. "If I were
well, I would take a run to Frankfurt myself on the business,"--now
that Soubise's reserves are in those parts, and could give Freytag and
Schmidt such a dusting for me, if they liked! Shall I write to Collini
on it? Does write, and again write, the second year hence, as still
better chances rise. [Collini, pp. 208-211 ("January-May, 1759").]
3. WILHELMINA TO VOLTAIRE AGAIN, WITH ANSWER (Second of the Prose
Pieces).--Not a very zealous friend of Friedrich's, after all, this
Voltaire! Poor Wilhelmina, terrified by that EPITRE of her Brother's,
and his fixed purpose of seeking Death, has, in her despair (though
her Letter is lost), been urging Voltaire to write dissuading him;--as
Voltaire does. Of which presently. Her Letter to Voltaire on this
thrice-important subject is lost. But in the very hours while Voltaire
sat writing what we have just read, "always with Madame Denis's
adventure on my heart," Wilhelmina, at Baireuth, is again writing to him
as follows:--
BAIREUTH, 12th SEPTEMBER, 1757 (TO VOLTAIRE).--"Your Letter has sensibly
touched me; that which you addressed to me for the King [both Letters
lost to us] has produced the same effect on him. I hope you will be
satisfied with his Answer as to what concerns yourself; but you will be
as little so as I am with the resolutions he has formed. I had flattered
myself that your reflections would make some impression on his mind.
You will see the contrary by the Letter adjoined. "To me there remains
nothing but to follow his destiny if it is unfortunate. I have never
piqued myself on being a philosopher; though I have made my efforts to
become so. The small progress I made did teach me to despise grandeurs
and riches: but I could never find in philosophy any cure for the wounds
of the heart, except that of getting done with our miseries by ceasing
to live. The state I am in is worse than death. I see the greatest
man of his age, my Brother, my friend, reduced to the frightfulest
extremity. I see my whole Family exposed to dangers and perhaps
destruction; my native Country torn by pitiless enemies; the Country
where I am [Reichs Army, Anspach, what not] menaced by perhaps similar
misfortune. Would to Heaven I were alone loaded with all the miseries I
have described to you! I would suffer them, and with firmness.
"Pardon these details. You invite me, by the part you take in what
regards me, to open my heart to you. Alas, hope is well-nigh banished
from it. Fortune, when she changes, is as constant in her persecutions
as in her favors. History is full of those examples:--but I have found
none equal to the one we now see; nor any War as inhuman and as cruel
among civilized nations. You would sigh if you knew the sad situation
of Germany and Preussen. The cruelties which the Russians commit in that
latter Country make nature shudder. [Details, horrible but authentic, in
_Helden-Geschichte, _ already cited.] How happy you in your Hermitage;
where you repose on your laurels, and can philosophize with a calm mind
on the deliriums of men! I wish you all the happiness imaginable. If
Fortune ever favor us again, count on all my gratitude. I will never
forget the marks of attachment which you have given; my sensibility is
your warrant; I am never half-and-half a friend, and I shall always be
wholly so of Brother Voltaire.--WILHELMINA.
"Many compliments to Madame Denis. Continue, I pray you, to write to the
King." [In _Voltaire,_ ii. 197-199; lxxvii. 57.]
VOLTAIRE TO WILHELMINA (Day uncertain: THE DELICES, SEPTEMBER,
1757).--"Madam, my heart is touched more than ever by the goodness and
the confidence your Royal Highness deigns to show me. How can I be but
melted by emotion! I see that it is solely your nobleness of soul that
renders you unhappy. I feel myself born to be attached with idolatry to
superior and sympathetic minds, who think like you. "You know how much
I have always, essentially and at heart, been attached to the King
your Brother. The more my old age is tranquil, and come to renounce
everything, and make my retreat here a home and country, the more am
I devoted to that Philosopher-King. I write nothing to him but what
I think from the bottom of my heart, nothing that I do not think most
true; and if my Letter [dissuasive of seeking Death; wait, reader]
appears to your Royal Highness to be suitable, I beg you to protect it
with him, as you have done the foregoing." [In _Voltaire,_ lxxvii. 37,
39.]
4. FRIEDRICH TO WILHELMINA, AND, BY ANTICIPATION, HER ANSWER (Third of
the Prose Pieces).--"KIRSCHLEBEN, NEAR ERFURT, 17th SEPTEMBER, 1757.--My
dearest Sister, I find no other consolation but in your precious
Letters. May Heaven reward so much virtue and such heroic sentiments!
"Since I wrote last to you, my misfortunes have but gone on
accumulating. It seems as though Destiny would discharge all its wrath
and fury upon the poor Country which I had to rule over. The Swedes
have entered Pommern. The French, after having concluded a Neutrality
humiliating to the King of England and themselves [Kloster-Zeven,
which we know], are in full march upon Halberstadt and Magdeburg. From
Preussen I am in daily expectation of hearing of a battle having been
fought: the proportion of combatants being 25,000 against 80,000 [was
fought, Gross-Jagersdorf, 30th August, and lost accordingly]. The
Austrians have marched into Silesia, whither the Prince of Bevern
follows them. I have advanced this way to fall upon the corps of the
allied Army; which has run off, and intrenched itself, behind Eisenach,
amongst hills, whither to follow, still more to attack them, all rules
of war forbid. The moment I retire towards Saxony, this whole swarm will
be upon my heels. Happen what may, I am determined, at all risks, to
fall upon whatever corps of the enemy approaches me nearest. I shall
even bless Heaven for its mercy, if it grant me the favor to die sword
in hand.
"Should this hope fail me, you will allow that it would be too hard to
crawl at the feet of a company of traitors, to whom successful crimes
have given the advantage to prescribe the law to me. How, my dear, my
incomparable Sister, how could I repress feelings of vengeance and of
resentment against all my neighbors, of whom there is not one who did
not accelerate my downfall, and will not, share in our spoils? How can a
Prince survive his State, the glory of his Country, his own reputation?
A Bavarian Elector, in his nonage [Son of the late poor Kaiser, and
left, shipwrecked in his seventeenth year], or rather in a sort of
subjection to his Ministers, and dull to the biddings of honor, may
give himself up as a slave to the imperious domination of the House of
Austria, and kiss the hand which oppressed his Father: I pardon it to
his youth and his ineptitude. But is that the example for me to follow?
No, dear Sister, you think too nobly to give me such mean (LACHE)
advice. Is Liberty, that precious prerogative, to be less dear to a
Sovereign in the eighteenth century than it was to Roman Patricians of
old? And where is it said, that Brutus and Cato should carry magnanimity
farther than Princes and Kings? Firmness consists in resisting
misfortune: but only cowards submit to the yoke, bear patiently their
chains, and support oppression tranquilly. Never, my dear Sister, could
I resolve upon such ignominy....
"If I had followed only my own inclinations, I should have ended it (JE
ME SERAIS DEPECHE) at once, after that unfortunate Battle which I lost.
But I felt that this would be weakness, and that it behooved me to
repair the evil which had happened. My attachment to the State awoke;
I said to myself, It is not in seasons of prosperity that it is rare to
find defenders, but in adversity. I made it a point of honor with
myself to redress all that had got out of square; in which I was not
unsuccessful; not even in the Lausitz [after those Zittau disasters]
last of all. But no sooner had I hastened this way to face new enemies,
than Winterfeld was beaten and killed near Gorlitz, than the French
entered the heart, of my States, than the Swedes blockaded Stettin.
Now there is nothing effective left for me to do: there are too many
enemies. Were I even to succeed in beating two armies, the third would
crush me. The enclosed Note [in cipher] will show you what I am still
about to try: it is the last attempt.
"The gratitude, the tender affection, which I feel towards you, that
friendship, true as the hills, constrains me to deal openly with you.
No, my divine Sister, I shall conceal nothing from you that I intend to
do; all my thoughts, all my resolutions shall be open and known to you
in time. I will precipitate nothing: but also it will be impossible for
me to change my sentiments....
"As for you, my incomparable Sister, I have not the heart to turn you
from your resolves. We think alike, and I cannot condemn in you the
sentiments which I daily entertain (EPROUVE). Life has been given to us
as a benefit: when it ceases to be such"--! "I have nobody left in this
world, to attach me to it, but you. My friends, the relations I loved
most, are in the grave; in short, I have lost, everything. If you take
the resolution which I have taken, we end together our misfortunes and
our unhappiness; and it will be the turn of them who remain in this
world, to provide for the concerns falling to their charge, and to bear
the weight, which has lain on us so long. These, my adorable Sister, are
sad reflections, but suitable to my present condition.
"The day before yesterday I was at Gotha [yes, see above;--and
to-morrow, if I knew it, Seidlitz with pictorial effects will be
there]....
"But, it is time to end this long, dreary Letter; which treats almost of
nothing but my own affairs. I have had some leisure, and have used it
to open on you a heart filled with admiration and gratitude towards
you. Yes, my adorable Sister, if Providence troubled itself about human
affairs, you ought to be the happiest person in the Universe. Your not
being such, confirms me in the sentiments expressed at the end of my
EPITRE. In conclusion, believe that I adore you, and that I would give
my life a thousand times to serve you. These are the sentiments which
will animate me to the last breath of my life; being, my beloved Sister,
ever"--Your--F. [_OEuvres,_ xxvii. i, 303-307.]
WILHELMINA'S ANSWER,--by anticipation, as we said: written "15th
September," while Friedrich was dining at Gotha, in quest of Soubise.
"BAIREUTH, 15th SEPTEMBER, 1757. My dearest Brother, your Letter and the
one you wrote to Voltaire, my dear Brother, have almost killed me. What
fatal resolutions, great God! Ah, my dear Brother, you say you love me;
and you drive a dagger into my heart. Your EPITRE, which I did receive,
made me shed rivers of tears. I am now ashamed of such weakness. My
misfortune would be so great" in the issue there alluded to, "that I
should find worthier resources than tears. Your lot shall be mine: I
will not survive either your misfortunes or those of the House I belong
to. You may calculate that such is my firm resolution.
"But, after this avowal, allow me to entreat you to look back at what
was the pitiable state of your Enemy when you lay before Prag! It is
occur again, when one is least expecting it, Caesar was the slave of
Pirates; and he became the master of the world. A great genius like
yours finds resources even when all is lost; and it is impossible this
frenzy can continue. My heart bleeds to think of the poor souls in
Preussen [Apraxin and his Christian Cossacks there,--who, it is noted,
far excel the Calmuck worshippers of the Dalai-Lama]. What horrid
barbarity, the detail of cruelties that go on there! I feel all that you
feel on it, my dear Brother. I know your heart, and your sensibility for
your subjects.
"I suffer a thousand times more than I can tell you; nevertheless hope
does not abandon me. I received your Letter of the 14th by W. [who W.
is, no mortal knows]. What kindness to think of me, who have nothing to
give you but a useless affection, which is so richly repaid by yours!
I am obliged to finish; but I shall never cease to be, with the most
profound respect (TRES-PROFOND RESPECT,"--that, and something still
better, if my poor pen were not embarrassed),
"your"--WILHELMINA.
5. FRIEDRICH'S RESPONSE TO THE DISSUASIVES OF VOLTAIRE (Last of the
Lamentation-Psalms: "Buttstadt, October 9th").--Voltaire's Dissuasive
Letter is a poor Piece; [_OEuvres de Voltaire, _ lxxvii. 80-85 (LES
DELICES, early in September, 1757: no date given).] not worth giving
here. Remarkable only by Friedrich's quiet reception of it; which
readers shall now see, as Finis to those Lamentation-Psalms. There
is another of them, widely known, which we will omit: the EPITRE
TO D'ARGENS; [In _ OEuvres de Frederic,_ xii. 50-56 ("Erfurt, 23d
September, 1757 ").] passionate enough, wandering wildly over human
life, and sincere almost to shrillness, in parts; which Voltaire has
also got hold of. Omissible here; the fixity of purpose being plain
otherwise to Voltaire and us. Voltaire's counter-arguments are weak, or
worse: "That Roman death is not now expected of the Philosopher; that
your Majesty will, in the worst event, still have considerable Dominions
left, all that your Great-Grandfather had; still plenty of resources;
that, in Paris Society, an estimable minority even now thinks highly
of you; that in Paris itself your Majesty [does not say expressly, as
dethroned and going on your travels] would have resources!" To which
beautiful considerations Friedrich answers, not with fire and brimstone,
as one might have dreaded, but in this quiet manner (REPONSE AU SIEUR
VOLTAIRE):--
"Je suis homme, il suffit, et ne pour la souffrance;
Aux rigueurs du destin j'oppose ma constance.
["I am a man, and therefore born to suffer; to destiny's rigors my
steadfastness must correspond."--Quotation from I know not whom.]
But with these sentiments, I am far from condemning Cato and Otho. The
latter had no fine moment in his life, except that of his death. [Breaks
off into Verse:]
"Croyez que si j'etais Voltaire,
Et particulier comme lui,
Me contentant du necessaire,
Je verrais voltiger la fortune legere,"
--Or,to wring the water and the jingle out of it, and give the substance
in Prose:--
"Yes, if I were Voltaire and a private man, I could with much composure
leave Fortune to her whirlings and her plungings; to me, contented
with the needful, her mad caprices and sudden topsy-turvyings would be
amusing rather than tremendous.
"I know the ennui attending on honors, the burdensome duties, the jargon
of grinning flatterers, those pitiabilities of every kind, those details
of littleness, with which you have to occupy yourself if set on high on
the stage of things. Foolish glory has no charm for me, though a
Poet and King: when once Atropos has ended me forever, what will the
uncertain honor of living in the Temple of Memory avail? One moment
of practical happiness is worth a thousand years of imaginary in such
Temple.--Is the lot of high people so very sweet, then? Pleasure, gentle
ease, true and hearty mirth, have always fled from the great and their
peculiar pomps and labors.
"No, it is not fickle Fortune that has ever caused my sorrows; let her
smile her blandest, let her frown her fiercest on me, I should sleep
every night, refusing her the least worship. But our respective
conditions are our law; we are bound and commanded to shape our temper
to the employment we have undertaken. Voltaire in his hermitage, in a
Country where is honesty and safety, can devote himself in peace to
the life of the Philosopher, as Plato has described it. But as to me,
threatened with shipwreck, I must consider how, looking the tempest in
the face, I can think, can live and can die as a King:--
Pour moi, menace du naufrage,
Je dois, en affrontant l'orage,
Penser, vivre et mourir en roi."
[_OEuvres,_ xxiii. 14.]
This is of October 9th; this ends, worthily, the Lamentation-Psalms;
work having now turned up, which is a favorable change. Friedrich's
notion of suicide, we perceive, is by no means that of puking up one's
existence, in the weak sick way of FELO DE SE; but, far different, that
of dying, if he needs must, as seems too likely, in uttermost spasm of
battle for self and rights to the last. From which latter notion nobody
can turn him. A valiantly definite, lucid and shiningly practical
soul,--with such a power of always expectorating himself into clearness
again. If he do frankly wager his life in that manner, beware, ye
Soubises, Karls and flaccid trivial persons, of the stroke that may
chance to lie in him!--
III. RUMOR OF AN INROAD ON BERLIN SUDDENLY SETS FRIEDRICH ON MARCH
THITHER: INROAD TAKES EFFECT,--WITH IMPORTANT RESULTS, CHIEFLY IN A
LEFT-HAND FORM.
October 11th, express arrived, important express from General Finck (who
is in Dresden, convalescent from Kolin, and is even Commandant there, of
anything there is to command), "That the considerable Austrian Brigade
or Outpost, which was left at Stolpen when the others went for Silesia,
is all on march for Berlin." Here is news! "The whole 15,000 of
them," report adds;--though it proved to be only a Detachment, picked
Tolpatches mostly, and of nothing like that strength; shot off, under a
swift General Haddick, on this errand. Between them and Berlin is not
a vestige of force; and Berlin itself has nothing but palisades, and
perhaps a poor 4,000 of garrison. "March instantly, you Moritz, who lie
nearest; cross Elbe at Torgau; I follow instantly!" orders Friedrich;
[His Message to Moritz, ORLICH, p. 73; Rodenbeck, p. 322 (dubious, or
wrong).]--and that same night is on march, or has cavalry pushed ahead
for reinforcement of Moritz.
Friedrich, not doubting but there would be captaincy and scheme among
his Enemies, considered that the Swedes, and perhaps the Richelieu
French, were in concert with this Austrian movement,--from east,
from north, from west, three Invasions coming on the core of his
Dominions;--and that here at last was work ahead, and plenty of it!
That was Friedrich's opinion, and most other people's, when the Austrian
inroad was first heard of: "mere triple ruin coming to this King," as
the Gazetteers judged;--great alarm prevailing among the King's friends;
in Berlin, very great. Friedrich, glad, at any rate, to have done with
that dismal lingering at Buttelstadt, hastens to arrange himself for
the new contingencies; to post his Keiths, his Ferdinands, with their
handfuls of force, to best advantage; and push ahead after Moritz, by
Leipzig, Torgau, Berlin-wards, with all his might. At Leipzig, in such
press of business and interest,--judge by the following phenomenon, what
a clear-going soul this is, and how completely on a level with whatever
it may be that he is marching towards:--
"LEIPZIG, 15th OCTOBER, 1757 (Interview with Gottsched).--At 11 this
morning, Majesty came marching into Leipzig; multitudes of things to
settle there; things ready, things not yet ready, in view of the great
events ahead. Seeing that he would have time after dinner, he at once
sent for Professor Gottsched, a gigantic gentleman, Reigning King of
German Literature for the time being, to come to him at 3 P.M. Reigning
King at that time; since gone wholly to the Dustbins,--'Popular
Delusion,' as old Samuel defines it, having since awakened to itself,
with scornful ha-ha's upon its poor Gottsched, and rushed into other
roads worse and better; its poor Gottsched become a name now signifying
Pedantry, Stupidity, learned Inanity and the Worship of Colored Water,
to every German mind.
"At 3 precise, the portly old gentleman (towards sixty now, huge of
stature, with a shrieky voice, and speaks uncommonly fast) bowed himself
in; and a Colloquy ensued, on Literature and so forth, of the kind we
may conceive. Colloquy which had great fame in the world; Gottsched
himself having--such the inaccuracy of rumor and Dutch Newspapers, on
the matter--published authentic Report of it; [Next Year, in a principal
Leipzig Magazine, with name signed: given in _Helden-Geschichte,_ iv.
728-739 (with multifarious commentaries and flourishings, denoting an
attentive world). Nicolai, _Anekdoten,_ iii. 286-290.] now one of the
dullest bits of reading, and worth no man's bit of time. Colloquy which
lasted three hours, with the greatest vivacity on both sides; King
impugning, for one principal thing, the roughness of German speech;
Gottsched, in swift torrents (far too copious in such company), ready to
defend. 'Those consonants of ours,' said the King, 'they afflict one's
ear: what Names we have; all in mere K's and P's: KNAP-, KNIP-, KLOP-,
KROTZ-, KROK--;--your own Name, for example!'"--Yes, his own Name,
unmusical GottSCHED, and signifying God's-Damage (God's-SKAITH) withal.
"Husht, don't take a Holy Name in vain; call the man SCHED ('Damage'
by itself), can't we!" said a wit once. [Nicolai, _Anekdoten,_ iii.
287.]--"'Five consonants together, TTSCH, TTSCH, what a tone!' continued
the King. 'Hear, in contrast, the music of this Stanza of Rousseau's
[Repeats a stanza]. Who could express that in German with such melody?'
And so on; branching through a great many provinces; King's knowledge
of all Literature, new and ancient, 'perfectly astonishing to me;' and
I myself, the swift-speaking Gottsched, rather copious than otherwise.
Catastrophe, and summary of the whole, was: Gottsched undertook to
translate the Rousseau Stanza into German of moderate softness; and
by the aid of water did so, that very night; [Copied duly in
_Helden-Geschichte,_ iv. 726.] sent it next day, and had 'within an
hour' a gracious Royal Answer in verse; calling one, incidentally,
'Saxon Swan, CYGNE SAXON,' though one is such a Goose! 'Majesty to march
at 7 to-morrow morning,' said a Postscript,--no Interviewing more, at
present.
"About ten days after [not to let this thing interrupt us again],
Friedrich, on his return to Leipzig, had another Interview with
Gottsched; of only one hour, this time;--but with many topics: Reading
of some Gottsched Ode (ODE, very tedious, frothy, watery, of THANKS to
Majesty for such goodness to the Saxon Swan; reading, too, of 'some of
Madam Gottsched's Pieces'). Majesty confessed afterwards, Every hour
from the very first had lowered his opinion of the Saxon Swan, till at
length Goosehood became too apparent. Friedrich sent him a gold snuffbox
by and by, but had no farther dialoguing.
"A saying of Excellency Mitchell's to Gottsched--for Gottsched, on that
second Leipzig opportunity, went swashing about among the King's Suite
as well--is still remembered. They were talking of Shakspeare: 'Genial,
if you will,' said Gottsched, 'but the Laws of Aristotle; Five Acts,
unities strict!'--'Aristotle? What is to hinder a man from making
his Tragedy in Ten acts, if it suit him better?' 'Impossible, your
Excellency!'--'Pooh,' said his Excellency; 'suppose Aristotle, and
general Fashion too, had ordered that the clothes of every man were to
be cut from five ells of cloth: how would the Herr Professor like [with
these huge limbs of his] if he found there were no breeches for him, on
Aristotle's account?' Adieu to Gottsched; most voluminous of men;--who
wrote a Grammar of the German Language, which, they say, did good.
I remember always his poor Wife with some pathos; who was a fine,
graceful, loyal creature, of ten times his intelligence; and did no
end of writing and translating and compiling (Addison's CATO, Addison's
SPECTATOR, thousands of things from all languages), on order of her
Gottsched, till life itself sank in such enterprises; never doubting,
tragically faithful soul, but her Gottsched was an authentic Seneschal
of Phoebus and the Nine." [Her LETTERS, collected by a surviving
Lady-Friend, "BRIEFE DER FRAU LUISE ADELGUNDE VIKTORIE GOTTSCHED, born
KULMUS (Dresden, 1771-1772, 3 vols. 8vo)," are, I should suppose, the
only Gottsched Piece which anybody would now think of reading.]--
Monday, 17th, at seven, his Majesty pushed off accordingly; cheery he
in the prospect of work, whatever his friends in the distance be. Here,
from Eilenburg, his first stage Torgau-way, are a Pair of Letters in
notable contrast.
WILHELMINA TO THE KING (on rumor of Haddick, swoln into a Triple
Invasion, Austrian, Swedish, French).
BAIREUTH, "15th October, 1757.
"MY DEAREST BROTHER,--Death and a thousand torments could not equal the
frightful state I am in. There run reports that make me shudder. Some
say you are wounded; others, dangerously ill. In vain have I tormented
myself to have news of you; I can get none. Oh, my dear Brother, come
what may, I will not survive you. If I am to continue in this frightful
uncertainty, I cannot stand it; I shall sink under it, and then I
shall be happy. I have been on the point of sending you a courier; but
[environed as we are] I durst not. In the name of God, bid somebody
write me one word.
"I know not what I have written; my heart is torn in pieces; I feel
that by dint of disquietude and alarms I am losing my wits. Oh, my dear,
adorable Brother, have pity on me. Heaven grant I be mistaken, and that
you may scold me; but the least thing that concerns you pierces me to
the heart, and alarms my affection too much. Might I die a thousand
times, provided you lived and were happy!
"I can say no more. Grief chokes me; and I can only repeat that your
fate shall be mine; being, my dear Brother, your
"WILHELMINA."
What a shrill penetrating tone, like the wildly weeping voice of Rachel;
tragical, painful, gone quite to falsetto and above pitch; but with a
melody in its dissonance like the singing of the stars. My poor shrill
Wilhelmina!--
KING TO WILHELMINA (has not yet received the Above).
"EILENBURG, 17th October, 1757.
"MY DEAREST SISTER,--What is the good of philosophy unless one employ
it in the disagreeable moments of life? It is then, my dear Sister, that
courage and firmness avail us.
"I am now in motion; and having once got into that, you may calculate I
shall not think of sitting down again, except under improved omens.
If outrage irritates even cowards, what will it do to hearts that have
courage?
"I foresee I shall not be able to write again for perhaps six weeks:
which fails not to be a sorrow to me: but I entreat you to be calm
during these turbulent affairs, and to wait with patience the month of
December; paying no regard to the Nurnberg Newspapers nor to those of
the Reich, which are totally Austrian.
"I am tired as a dog (COMME UN CHIEN). I embrace you with my whole
heart; being with the most perfect affection (TENDRESSE), my dearest
Sister, your"-- FRIEDRICH.
... (AT SOME OTHER HOUR, SAME PLACE AND DAY.) "'No possibility of
Peace,' say your accounts [Letter lost]; 'the French won't hear my name
mentioned.' Well; from me they shall not farther. The way will be, to
speak to them by action, so that they may repent their impertinences and
pride." [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xxvii. i. 308, 309, 310.]'
The Haddick affair, after all the rumor about it, proved to be a very
small matter. No Swede or Richelieu had dreamt of co-operating;
Haddick, in the end, was scarce 4,000 with four cannon; General Rochow,
Commandant of Berlin, with his small garrison, had not Haddick skilfully
slidden through woods, and been so magnified by rumor, might have
marched out, and beaten a couple of Haddicks. As it was, Haddick
skilfully emerging, at the Silesian Gate of Berlin, 16th October,
about eleven in the morning, demanded ransom of 300,000 thalers (45,000
pounds); was refused; began shooting on the poor palisades, on the
poor drawbridge there; "at the third shot brought down the drawbridge;"
rushed into the suburb; and was not to be pushed out again by the
weak party Rochow sent to try it. Rochow, ignorant of Haddick's force,
marched off thereupon for Spandau with the Royal Family and effects;
leaving Haddick master of the suburb, and Berlin to make its own bargain
with him. Haddick, his Croats not to be quite kept from mischief,
remained master of the suburb, minatory upon Berlin, for twelve hours or
more: and after a good deal of bargaining,--ransom of 45,000 pounds, of
90,000 pounds, finally of 27,000 pounds and "two dozen pair of gloves
to the Empress Queen,"--made off about five in the morning; wind
of Moritz's advance adding wings to the speed of Haddick.
[_Helden-Geschichte,_ iv. 715-723 (Haddick's own Account, and the Berlin
one).]
Moritz did arrive next evening (18th); but with his tired troops there
was no catching of Haddick, now three marches ahead. Royal Family and
effects returned from Spandau the day following; but in a day or
two more, removed to Magdeburg till the Capital were safe from such
affronts. Much grumbling against Rochow. "What could I do? How could I
know?" answered Rochow, whose eyesight indeed had been none of the best.
Berlin smarts to the length of 27,000 pounds and an alarm; but asserts
(not quite mythically, thinks Retzow), that "the two dozen pair of
gloves were all gloves for the left hand,"--Berlin having wit, and a
touch of ABSINTHE in it, capable of such things! Friedrich heard
the news at Annaburg, a march beyond Torgau; and there paused, again
uncertain, for about a week coming; after which, he discovered that
Leipzig would be the place; and returned thither, appointing a general
rendezvous and concentration there.
SCENE AT REGENSBURG IN THE INTERIM.
Just while Haddick was sliding swiftly through the woods, Berlin now
nigh, there occurred a thing at Regensburg; tragic thing, but ending in
farce,--Finale of REICHS-ACHT, in short;--about which all Regensburg was
loud, wailing or haha-ing according to humor; while Berlin was paying
its ransom and left-hand gloves. One moment's pause upon this, though
our haste is great.
"Reichs Diet had got its Ban of the Reich ready for Friedrich; CITATIO
(solemn Summons) and all else complete; nothing now wanted but to serve
Citatio on him, or 'insinuate' it into him, as their phrase is;--which
latter essential point occasions some shaking of wigs. Dangerous,
serving Citatio in that quarter: and by what art try to smuggle it into
the hands of such a one? 'Insinuate it here into his, Plotho's, hand;
that is the method, and that will suffice!' say the wigs, and choose
an unfortunate Reichs Notary, Dr. Aprill, to do it; who, in ponderous
Chancery-style, gives the following affecting report,--wonderful, but
intelligible (when abridged):--
"Citatio" to come and receive your Ban,--a very solemn-sounding
Document, commencing (or perhaps it is Aprill himself that so commences,
no matter which), "'In the Name of the Most High God, the Father, Son
and Holy Ghost, Amen,'--was given, Wednesday, 12th October, in the
Year after Christ our dear Lord and Saviour's Birth, 1757 Years, To me
Georgius Mathias Josephus Aprill, sworn Kaiserlich Notarius Publicus;
In my Lodging, first-floor fronting south, in Jacob Virnrohr the
Innkeeper's House here at Regensburg, called the Red-Star," for
insinuation into Plotho:
With which solemn Piece, Aprill proceeded next day, Thursday,
half-past 2 P.M., to Plotho's dwelling-place, described with equal
irrefragability; and, continues Aprill, "did there, by a servant of
the Herr Ambassador von Plotho's, announce myself; adding that I had
something to say to his Excellency, if he would please to admit me. To
which the Herr Ambassador by the same servant sent answer, that he was
ill with a cold, and that I might speak to his Secretarius what I had to
say. But, as I replied that my message was to his Excellenz in person,
the same servant came back with intimation that I might call again
to-morrow at noon."
To-morrow, at the stroke of noon, Friday, 14th October, Aprill
punctually appears again, with recapitulation of the pledge given him
yesterday; and is informed that he can walk up-stairs. "I proceeded
thereupon, the servant going before, up one pair of stairs, or with
the appurtenances (GEZEUGEN) rather more than one pair, into the
Herr Ambassador Freiherr von Plotho's Anteroom; who, just as we were
entering, stept in himself, through a side-door; in his dressing-gown,
and with the words, 'Speak now what you have to say.'
"I thereupon slipt into his hand CITATIO FISCALIS, and said"--said
at first nothing, Plotho avers; merely mumbled, looked like some poor
caitiff, come with Law-papers on a trifling Suit we happen to have
in the Courts here;--and only by degrees said (let us abridge; SCENE,
Aprill and Plotho, Anteroom in Regensburg, first-floor and rather
higher):--
APRILL. "'I have to give your Excellenz this Writing,--[which privately,
could your Excellenz guess it, is] CITATIO FISCALIS from the Reichstag,
summoning his Majesty to show cause why Ban of the Reich should not pass
upon him!' His Excellenz at first took the CITATIO and adjuncts from me;
and looking into them to see what they were, his Excellenz's face began
to color, and soon after to color a little more; and on his looking
attentively at CITATIO FISCALIS, he broke into violent anger and rage,
so that he could not stand still any longer; but with burning face, and
both arms held aloft, rushed close to me, CITATIO and adjuncts in his
right hand, and broke out in this form:--
PLOTHO. "'What; insinuate (INSINUIEREN), you scoundrel!'
APRILL. "'It is my Notarial Office; I must do it.' In spite of which the
Freiherr von Plotho fell on me with all rage; grasped me by the front of
the cloak, and said:--
PLOTHO. "'Take it back, wilt thou!' And as I resisted doing so, he stuck
it in upon me, and shoved it down with all violence between my coat
and waistcoat; and, still holding me by the cloak, called to the two
servants who had been there, 'Fling him down stairs!'--which they, being
discreet fellows, and in no flurry, did not quite, nor needed quite to
do ('Must, sir, you see, unless!'), and so forced me out of the house;
Excellenz Plotho retiring through his Anteroom, and his Body-servant,
who at first had been on the stairs, likewise disappearing as I got
under way,"--and have to report, in such manner, to the Universe
and Reichs Diet, with tears in my eyes. [Preuss, ii. 397-401; in
_Helden-Geschichte, _ iv. 745-749, Plotho's Account.]
What became of Reichs Ban after this, ask not. It fell dead by
Friedrich's victories now at hand; rose again into life on Friedrich's
misfortunes (August, 1758), threatening to include George Second in it;
upon which the CORPUS EVANGELICORUM made some counter-mumblement;--and,
I have heard, the French privately advised: "Better drop it; these two
Kings are capable of walking out of you, and dangerously kicking the
table over as they go!"--Whereby it again fell dead, positively for the
last time, and, in short, is worth no mention or remembrance more.
CORPUS EVANGELICORUM had always been against Reichs Ban: a few
Dissentients, or Half-Dissentients excepted,--as Mecklenburg wholly
and with a will; foolish Anspach wholly; and the Anhalts haggling some
dissent, and retracting it (why, I never knew);--for which Mecklenburg
and the Anhalts, lying within clutch of one, had to repent bitterly in
the years coming! Enough of all that.
The Haddick invasion, which had got its gloves, left-hand or not,
and part of its road-expenses, brought another consequence much more
important on the PER-CONTRA side. The triumphing, TE-DEUM-ing and
jubilation over it,--"His Metropolis captured; Royal Family in
flight!"--raised the Dauphiness Army, and especially Versailles,
into such enthusiasm, that Dauphiness came bodily out (on order from
Versailles); spread over the Country, plundering and insulting beyond
example; got herself reinforced by a 15,000 from the Richelieu Army;
crossed the Saale; determined on taking Leipzig, beating Friedrich, and
I know not what. Keith, in Leipzig with a small Party, had summons from
Soubise's vanguard (October 24th): Keith answered, He would burn the
suburbs;--upon which, said vanguard, hearing of Friedrich's advent
withal, took itself rapidly away. And Soubise and it would fain have
recrossed Saale, I have understood, had not Versailles been peremptory.
In a word, Friedrioh arrived at Leipzig October 26th; Ferdinand, Moritz
and all the others coming or already come: and there is something great
just at hand. Friedrich's stay in Leipzig was only four days. Cheering
prospect of work now ahead here;--add to this, assurance from Preussen
that Apraxin is fairly going home, and Lehwald coming to look after
the Swedes. Were it not that there is bad news from Silesia, things
generally are beginning to look up. Of the hour spent on Gottsched,
in these four days, we expressly take no notice farther; but there was
another visit much less conspicuous, and infinitely more important: that
of a certain Hanoverian Graf von Schulenburg, not in red or with plumes,
like a Major-General as he was, but "in the black suit of a Country
Parson,"--coming, in that unnoticeable guise, to inform Friedrich
officially, "That the Hanoverians and Majesty of England have resolved
to renounce the Convention of Kloster-Zeven; to bring their poor Stade
Army into the field again; and do now request him, King Friedrich,
to grant them Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick to be General of the same."
[Mauvillon, i. 256; Westphalen, i. 315: indistinct both, and with slight
variations. Mitchell Papers (in British Museum), likewise indistinct:
Additional MSS. 6815, pp. 96 and 108 ("Lord Holderness to Mitchell,"
doubtless on Pitt's instigation, "10th October, 1757," is the beginning
of it,--two days before Royal Highness got home from Stade); see ib.
6806, pp. 241-252.]
Here is an unnoticeable message, of very high moment indeed. To which
Friedrich, already prepared, gives his cheerful consent; nominations and
practicalities to follow, the instant these present hurries are over.
Who it was that had prepared all this, whose suggestion it first was,
Friedrich's, Mitchell's, George's, Pitt's, I do not know,--I cannot
help suspecting Pitt; Pitt and Friedrich together. And certainly of all
living men, Ferdinand--related to the English and Prussian royalties,
a soldier of approved excellence, and likewise a noble-minded,
prudent, patient and invincibly valiant and steadfast man--was, beyond
comparison, the fittest for this office. Pitt is now fairly in power;
and perceives,--such Pitt's originality of view,--that an Army with a
Captain to it may differ beautifully from one without. And in fact we
may take this as the first twitch at the reins, on Pitt's part; whose
delicate strong hand, all England running to it with one heart, will be
felt at the ends of the earth before many months go. To the great and
unexpected joy of Friedrich, for one. "England has taken long to produce
a great man," he said to Mitchell; "but here is one at last!"