PERSONS AND THINGS.
Friedrich had not been long home again from Trakehnen and Preussen,
when the routine of things at Reinsberg was illuminated by Visitors, of
brilliant and learned quality; some of whom, a certain Signor Algarotti
for one, require passing mention here. Algarotti, who became a permanent
friend or satellite, very luminous to the Prince, and was much about him
in coming years, first shone out upon the scene at this time,--coming
unexpectedly, and from the Eastward as it chanced.
On his own score, Algarotti has become a wearisome literary man to
modern readers: one of those half-remembered men; whose books seem to
claim a reading, and do not repay it you when given. Treatises, of a
serious nature, ON THE OPERA; setting forth, in earnest, the potential
"moral uses" of the Opera, and dedicated to Chatham; _Neutonianismo per
le Donne_ (Astronomy for Ladies): the mere Titles of such things are
fatally sufficient to us; and we cannot, without effort, nor with it,
recall the brilliancy of Algarotti and them to his contemporary world.
Algarotti was a rich Venetian Merchant's Son, precisely about the
Crown-Prince's age; shone greatly in his studies at Bologna and
elsewhere; had written Poesies (RIME); written especially that
_Newtonianism for the Dames_ (equal to Fontenelle, said Fame, and
orthodox Newtonian withal, not heterodox or Cartesian); and had shone,
respected, at Paris, on the strength of it, for three or four years
past: friend of Voltaire in consequence, of Voltaire and his divine
Emilie, and a welcome guest at Cirey; friend of the cultivated world
generally, which was then laboring, divine Emilie in the van of it,
to understand Newton and be orthodox in this department of things.
Algarotti did fine Poesies, too, once and again; did Classical
Scholarships, and much else: everywhere a clear-headed, methodically
distinct, concise kind of man. A high style of breeding about him,
too; had powers of pleasing, and used them: a man beautifully lucent in
society, gentle yet impregnable there; keeping himself unspotted from
the world and its discrepancies,--really with considerable prudence,
first and last.
He is somewhat of the Bielfeld type; a Merchant's Son, we observe, like
Bielfeld; but a Venetian Merchant's, not a Hamburg's; and also of better
natural stuff than Bielfeld. Concentrated himself upon his task with
more seriousness, and made a higher thing of it than Bielfeld; though,
after all, it was the same task the two had. Alas, our "Swan of
Padua" (so they sometimes called him) only sailed, paddling grandly,
no-whither,--as the Swan-Goose of the Elbe did, in a less stately
manner! One cannot well bear to read his Books. There is no light upon
Friedrich to tempt us; better light than Bielfeld's there could have
been, and much of it: but he prudently, as well as proudly, forbore such
topics. He approaches very near fertility and geniality in his writings,
but never reaches it. Dilettantism become serious and strenuous, in
those departments--Well, it was beautiful to young Friedrich and
the world at that time, though it is not to us!--Young Algarotti,
twenty-seven this year, has been touring about as a celebrity these four
years past, on the strength of his fine manners and _Newtonianism for
the Dames._
It was under escort of Baltimore, "an English Milord," recommended from
Potsdam itself, that Algarotti came to Reinsberg; the Signor had much to
do with English people now and after. Where Baltimore first picked him
up, I know not: but they have been to Russia together; Baltimore by
twelve years the elder of the two: and now, getting home towards
England again, they call at Reinsberg in the fine Autumn weather;--and
considerably captivate the Crown-Prince, Baltimore playing chief,
in that as in other points. The visit lasted five days: [20th-25th
September, 1739 (_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xiv. p. xiv).] there was copious
speech on many things;--discussion about Printing of the ANTI MACHIAVEL;
Algarotti to get it printed in England, Algarotti to get Pine and
his Engraved HENRIADE put under way; neither of which projects took
effect;--readers can conceive what a charming five days these were.
Here, in the Crown-Prince's own words, are some brief glimmerings which
will suffice us:--
REINSBERG, 25th SEPT. 1739 (Crown-Prince to Papa).... that "nothing new
has occurred in the Regiment, and we have few sick. Here has the English
Milord, who was at Potsdam, passing through [stayed five days, though
we call it passing, and suppress the Algarotti, Baltimore being indeed
chief]. He is gone towards Hamburg, to take ship for England there. As
I heard that my Most All-gracious Father wished I should show him
courtesy, I have done for him what I could. The Prince of Mirow has also
been here,"--our old Strelitz friend. Of Baltimore nothing more to
Papa. But to another Correspondent, to the good Suhm (who is now at
Petersburg, and much in our intimacy, ready to transact loans for us,
translate Wolf, or do what is wanted), there is this passage next day:--
REINSBERG, 26th SEPTEMBER, 1739 (to Suhm). "We have had Milord
Baltimore here, and the young Algarotti; both of them men who, by their
accomplishments, cannot but conciliate the esteem and consideration
of all who see them. We talked much of you [Suhm], of Philosophy, of
Science, Art; in short, of all that can be included in the taste of
cultivated people (HONNETES GENS)." [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xvi. 378.]
And again to another, about two weeks hence:--
REINSBERG, 10th OCTOBER, 1739 (to Voltaire). "We have had Milord
Baltimore and Algarotti here, who are going back to England. This Milord
is a very sensible man (HOMME TRESSENSE); who possesses a great deal of
knowledge, and thinks, like us, that sciences can be no disparagement to
nobility, nor degrade an illustrious rank. I admired the genius of this
ANGLAIS, as one does a fine face through a crape veil. He speaks French
very ill, yet one likes to hear him speak it; and as for his English,
he pronounces it so quick, there is no possibility of following him. He
calls a Russian 'a mechanical animal.' He says 'Petersburg is the eye
of Russia, with which it keeps civilized countries in sight; if you took
this eye from it, Russia would fall again into barbarism, out of which
it is just struggling.' [Ib. xxi. 326, 327.]... Young Algarotti,
whom you know, pleased me beyond measure. He promised that he"--But
Baltimore, promise or not, is the chief figure at present.
Evidently an original kind of figure to us, CET ANGLAIS. And indeed
there is already finished a rhymed EPISTLE to Baltimore; _Epitre sur la
Liberte_ (copy goes in that same LETTER, for Voltaire's behoof), which
dates itself likewise October 10th; beginning,--_"L'esprit libre,
Milord, qui regne en Angleterre,"_ which, though it is full of fine
sincere sentiments, about human dignity, papal superstition, Newton,
Locke, and aspirations for progress of culture in Prussia, no reader
could stand at this epoch.
What Baltimore said in answer to the EPITRE, we do not know; probably
not much: it does not appear he ever saw or spoke to Friedrich a second
time. Three weeks after, Friedrich writing to Algarotti, has these
words: "I pray you make my friendships to Milord Baltimore, whose
character and manner of thinking I truly esteem. I hope he has, by this
time, got my EPITRE on the English Liberty of Thought." [29th October
1739, To Algarotti in London (_OEuvres,_ xviii. 5).] And so Baltimore
passes on, silent in History henceforth,--though Friedrich seems to have
remembered him to late times, as a kind of type-figure when England came
into his head. For the sake of this small transit over the sun's disk, I
have made some inquiry about Baltimore; but found very little;--perhaps
enough:--
"He was Charles, Sixth Lord Baltimore, it appears; Sixth, and last
but one. First of the Baltimores, we know, was Secretary Calvert
(1618-1624), who colonized Maryland; last of them (1774) was the Son
of this Charles; something of a fool, to judge by the face of him in
Portraits, and by some of his doings in the world. He, that Seventh
Baltimore, printed one or two little Volumes "now of extreme
rarity"--(cannot be too rare); and winded up by standing an ugly Trial
at Kingston Assizes (plaintiff an unfortunate female). After which he
retired to Naples, and there ended, 1774, the last of these Milords.
[Walpole (by Park), _Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors_ (London,
1806), v. 278.]
"He of the Kingston Assizes, we say, was not this Charles; but his
Son, whom let the reader forget. Charles, age forty at this time, had
travelled about the Continent a good deal: once, long ago, we imagined
we had got a glimpse of him (but it was a guess merely) lounging
about Luneville and Lorraine, along with Lyttelton, in the
Congress-of-Soissons time? Not long after that, it is certain enough,
he got appointed a Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Prince Fred; who was a
friend of speculative talkers and cultivated people. In which situation
Charles Sixth Baron Baltimore continued all his days after; and might
have risen by means of Fred, as he was anxious enough to do, had both of
them lived; but they both died; Baltimore first, in 1751, a year before
Fred. Bubb Doddington, diligent laborer in the same Fred vineyard,
was much infested by this Baltimore,--who, drunk or sober (for he
occasionally gets into liquor), is always putting out Bubb, and
stands too well with our Royal Master, one secretly fears! Baltimore's
finances, I can guess, were not in too good order; mostly an Absentee;
Irish Estates not managed in the first style, while one is busy in the
Fred vineyard! 'The best and honestest man in the world, with a good
deal of jumbled knowledge,' Walpole calls him once: 'but not capable of
conducting a party.'" [Walpole's _Letters to Mann_ (London, 1843), ii.
175; 27th January, 1747. See ib. i. 82.] Oh no;--and died, at any rate,
Spring 1751: [_Peerage of Ireland_ (London, 1768), ii. 172-174.] and we
will not mention him farther.
BIELFELD, WHAT HE SAW AT REINSBERG AND AROUND.
Directly on the rear of these fine visitors, came, by invitation, a pair
of the Korn's-Hotel people; Masonic friends; one of whom was Bielfeld,
whose dainty Installation Speech and ways of procedure had been of
promise to the Prince on that occasion. "Baron von Oberg" was the
other:--Hanoverian Baron: the same who went into the Wars, and was a
"General von Oberg" twenty years hence? The same or another, it does
not much concern us. Nor does the visit much, or at all; except that
Bielfeld, being of writing nature, professes to give ocular account
of it. Honest transcript of what a human creature actually saw at
Reinsberg, and in the Berlin environment at that date, would have had
a value to mankind: but Bielfeld has adopted the fictitious form;
and pretty much ruined for us any transcript there is. Exaggeration,
gesticulation, fantastic uncertainty afflict the reader; and prevent
comfortable belief, except where there is other evidence than
Bielfeld's.
At Berlin the beautiful straight streets, Linden Avenues (perhaps a
better sample than those of our day), were notable to Bielfeld; bridges,
statues very fine; grand esplanades, and such military drilling and
parading as was never seen. He had dinner-invitations, too, in quantity;
likes this one and that (all in prudent asterisks),---likes Truchsess
von Waldburg very much, and his strange mode of bachelor housekeeping,
and the way he dines and talks among his fellow-creatures, or sits
studious among his Military Books and Paper-litters. But all is loose
far-off sketching, in the style of _Anacharsis the Younger;_ and makes
no solid impression.
Getting to Reinsberg, to the Town, to the Schloss, he crosses the
esplanade, the moat; sees what we know, beautiful square Mansion among
its woods and waters;--and almost nothing that we do not know, except
the way the moat-bridge is lighted: "Bridge furnished," he says, "with
seven Statues representing the seven Planets, each holding in her hand
a glass lamp in the form of a globe;"--which is a pretty object in the
night-time. The House is now finished; Knobelsdorf rejoicing in his
success; Pesne and others giving the last touch to some ceilings of
a sublime nature. On the lintel of the gate is inscribed FREDERICO
TRANQUILLITATEM COLENTI (To Friedrich courting Tranquillity). The
gardens, walks, hermitages, grottos, are very spacious, fine: not yet
completed,--perhaps will never be. A Temple of Bacchus is just now on
hand, somewhere in those labyrinthic woods: "twelve gigantic Satyrs as
caryatides, crowned by an inverted Punch-bowl for dome;" that is the
ingenious Knobelsdorf's idea, pleasant to the mind. Knobelsdorf is of
austere aspect; austere, yet benevolent and full of honest sagacity;
the very picture of sound sense, thinks Bielfeld. M. Jordan is handsome,
though of small stature; agreeable expression of face; eye extremely
vivid; brown complexion, bushy eyebrows as well as beard are black.
[Bielfeld (abridged), i. 45.]
Or did the reader ever hear of "M. Fredersdorf," Head Valet at this
time? Fredersdorf will become, as it were, Privy-Purse, House-Friend,
and domestic Factotum, and play a great part in coming years. "A tall
handsome man;" much "silent sense, civility, dexterity;" something
"magnificently clever in him," thinks Bielfeld (now, or else twenty
years afterwards); whom we can believe. [Ib. p. 49.] He was a gift
from General Schwerin, this Fredersdorf; once a Private in Schwerin's
regiment, at Frankfurt-on-Oder,--excellent on the flute, for one
quality. Schwerin, who had an eye for men, sent him to Friedrich, in the
Custrin time; hoping he might suit in fluting and otherwise. Which he
conspicuously did. Bielfeld's account, we must candidly say, appears
to be an afterthought; but readers can make their profit of it, all the
same.
As to the Crown-Prince and Princess, words fail to express
their gracious perfections, their affabilities, polite
ingenuities:--Bielfeld's words do give us some pleasant shadowy
conceivability of the Crown-Princess:--
"Tall, and perfect in shape; bust such as a sculptor might copy;
complexion of the finest; features ditto; nose, I confess, smallish
and pointed, but excellent of that kind; hair of the supremest flaxen,
'shining' like a flood of sunbeams, when the powder is off it. A humane
ingenuous Princess; little negligences in toilet or the like, if such
occur, even these set her off, so ingenuous are they. Speaks little;
but always to the purpose, in a simple, cheerful and wise way. Dances
beautifully; heart (her soubrette assures me) is heavenly;--and 'perhaps
no Princess living has a finer set of diamonds.'"
Of the Crown-Princess there is some pleasant shadow traced as on cobweb,
to this effect. But of the Crown-Prince there is no forming the
least conception from what he says:--this is mere cobweb with Nothing
elaborately painted on it. Nor do the portraits of the others attract
by their verisimilitude. Here is Colonel Keyserling, for instance; the
witty Courlander, famous enough in the Friedrich circle; who went on
embassy to Cirey, and much else: he "whirls in with uproar (FRACAS)
like Boreas in the Ballet;" fowling-piece on shoulder, and in his
"dressing-gown" withal, which is still stranger; snatches off Bielfeld,
unknown till that moment, to sit by him while dressing; and there, with
much capering, pirouetting, and indeed almost ground-and-lofty
tumbling, for accompaniment, "talks of Horses, Mathematics, Painting,
Architecture, Literature, and the Art of War," while he dresses. This
gentleman was once Colonel in Friedrich Wilhelm's Army; is now fairly
turned of forty, and has been in troubles: we hope he is not LIKE in the
Bielfeld Portrait;--otherwise, how happy that we never had the honor of
knowing him! Indeed, the Crown-Prince's Household generally, as Bielfeld
paints it in flourishes of panegyric, is but unattractive; barren to
the modern on-looker; partly the Painter's blame, we doubt not. He gives
details about their mode of dining, taking coffee, doing concert;--and
describes once an incidental drinking-bout got up aforethought by the
Prince; which is probably in good part fiction, though not ill done.
These fantastic sketchings, rigorously winnowed into the credible and
actual, leave no great residue in that kind; but what little they do
leave is of favorable and pleasant nature.
Bielfeld made a visit privately to Potsdam, too: saw the Giants drill;
made acquaintance with important Captains of theirs (all in ASTERISKS)
at Potsdam; with whom he dined, not in a too credible manner, and even
danced. Among the asterisks, we easily pick out Captain Wartensleben
(of the Korn's-Hotel operation), and Winterfeld, a still more important
Captain, whom we saw dining on cold pie with his Majesty, at a barn-door
in Pommern, not long since. Of the Giants, or their life at Potsdam,
Bielfeld's word is not worth hearing,--worth suppressing rather; his
knowledge being so small, and hung forth in so fantastic a way. This
transient sight he had of his Majesty in person; this, which is
worth something to us,--fact being evidently lodged in it, "After
church-parade," Autumn Sunday afternoon (day uncertain, Bielfeld's
date being fictitious, and even impossible), Majesty drove out to
Wusterhausen, "where the quantities of game surpass all belief;" and
Bielfeld had one glimpse of him:--
"I saw his Majesty only, as it were, in passing. If I may judge by his
Portraits, he must have been of a perfect beauty in his young time; but
it must be confessed there is nothing left of it now. His eyes truly are
fine; but the glance of them is terrible: his complexion is composed
of the strongest tints of red, blue, yellow, green,"--not a lovely
complexion at all; "big head; the thick neck sunk between the shoulders;
figure short and heavy (COURTE ET RAMASSEE)." [Bielfeld, p. 35.]
"Going out to Wusterhausen," then, that afternoon, "October, 1739." How
his Majesty is crushed down; quite bulged out of shape in that sad way,
by the weight of time and its pressures: his thoughts, too, most likely,
of a heavy-laden and abstruse nature! The old Pfalz Controversy has
misgone with him: Pfalz, and so much else in the world;--the world in
whole, probably enough, near ending to him; the final shadows, sombre,
grand and mournful, closing in upon him!
TURK WAR ENDS; SPANISH WAR BEGINS. A WEDDING IN PETERSBURG.
Last news come to Potsdam in these days is, The Kaiser has ended his
disastrous Turk War; been obliged to end it; sudden downbreak, and as it
were panic terror, having at last come upon his unfortunate Generals in
those parts. Duke Franz was passionate to be out of such a thing; Franz,
General Neipperg and others; and now, "2d September, 1739," like lodgers
leaping from a burning house, they are out of it. The Turk gets Belgrade
itself, not to mention wide territories farther east,--Belgrade without
shot fired;--nay the Turk was hardly to be kept from hanging the
Imperial Messenger (a General Neipperg, Duke Franz's old Tutor, and
chief Confidant, whom we shall hear more of elsewhere), whose passport
was not quite right on this occasion!--Never was a more disgraceful
Peace. But also never had been worse fighting; planless, changeful,
powerless, melting into futility at every step:--not to be mended by
imprisonments in Gratz, and still harsher treatment of individuals. "Has
all success forsaken me, then, since Eugene died?" said the Kaiser; and
snatched at this Turk Peace; glad to have it, by mediation of France,
and on any terms.
Has not this Kaiser lost his outlying properties at a fearful rate?
Naples is gone; Spanish Bourbon sits in our Naples; comparatively
little left for us in Italy. And now the very Turk has beaten us small;
insolently fillips the Imperial nose of us,--threatening to hang our
Neipperg, and the like. Were it not for Anne of Russia, whose big
horse-whip falls heavy on this Turk, he might almost get to Vienna
again, for anything we could do! A Kaiser worthy to be pitied;--whom
Friedrich Wilhelm, we perceive, does honestly pity. A Kaiser much
beggared, much disgraced, in late years; who has played a huge life-game
so long, diplomatizing, warring; and, except the Shadow of Pragmatic
Sanction, has nothing to retire upon.
The Russians protested, with astonishment, against such Turk Peace on
the Kaiser's part. But there was no help for it. One ally is gone, the
Kaiser has let go this Western skirt of the Turk; and "Thamas Kouli
Khan" (called also Nadir Shah, famed Oriental slasher and slayer of that
time) no longer stands upon the Eastern skirt, but "has entered India,"
it appears: the Russians--their cash, too, running low--do themselves
make peace, "about a month after;" restoring Azoph and nearly all their
conquests; putting off the ruin of the Turk till a better time.
War is over in the East, then; but another in the West, England against
Spain (Spain and France to help), is about beginning. Readers remember
how Jenkins's Ear re-emerged, Spring gone a year, in a blazing
condition? Here, through SYLVANUS URBAN himself, are two direct
glimpses, a twelve-month nearer hand, which show us how the matter has
been proceeding since:--
"LONDON, 19th FEBRUARY, 1739. The City Authorities,"--laying or going to
lay "the foundation of the Mansion-House" (Edifice now very black in our
time), and doing other things of little moment to us, "had a Masquerade
at the Guildhall this night. There was a very splendid appearance at the
Masquerade; but among the many humorous and whimsical characters, what
seemed most to engage attention was a Spaniard, who called himself
'Knight of the Ear;' as Badge of which Order he wore on his breast the
form of a Star, with its points tinged in blood; and on the body of it
an Ear painted, and in capital letters the word JENKINS encircling it.
Across his shoulder there hung, instead of ribbon, a large Halter; which
he held up to several persons dressed as English Sailors, who seemed in
great terror of him, and falling on their knees suffered him to rummage
their pockets; which done, he would insolently dismiss them with strokes
of his halter. Several of the Sailors had a bloody Ear hanging down from
their heads; and on their hats were these words, EAR FOR EAR; on others,
NO SEARCH OR NO TRADE; with the like sentences." [_Gentleman's
Magazine_ for 1739, p. 103;--our DATES, as always, are N. 8.] The
conflagration evidently going on; not likely to be damped down again, by
ministerial art!--
"LONDON, 19th MARCH, 1739." Grand Debate in Parliament, on the late
"Spanish Convention," pretended Bargain of redress lately got from
Spain: Approve the Convention, or Not approve? "A hundred Members were
in the House of Commons before seven, this morning; and four hundred had
taken their seat by ten; which is an unheard-of thing. Prince of Wales,"
Fred in person, "was in the gallery till twelve at night, and had his
dinner sent to him. Sir Robert Walpole rose: 'Sir, the great pains
that have been taken to influence all ranks and degrees of men in this
Nation--... But give me leave to'"--apply a wet cloth to Honorable
Gentlemen. Which he does, really with skill and sense. France and the
others are so strong, he urges; England so unprepared; Kaiser at such
a pass; 'War like to be, about the Palatinate Dispute [our friend
Friedrich Wilhelm's]: Where is England to get, allies?'--and hours long
of the like sort. A judicious wet cloth; which proved unavailing.
For "William Pitts" (so they spell the great Chatham that is to be) was
eloquent on the other side: "Despairing Merchants," "Voice of England,"
and so on. And the world was all in an inflamed state. And Mr. Pulteney
exclaimed: Palatinate? Allies? "We need no allies; the case of Mr.
Jenkins will raise us volunteers everywhere!" And in short,--after eight
months more of haggling, and applying wet cloths,--Walpole, in the
name of England, has to declare War against Spain; ["3d November (23d
October), 1739."] the public humor proving unquenchable on that matter.
War; and no Peace to be, "till our undoubted right," to roadway on
the oceans of this Planet, become permanently manifest to the Spanish
Majesty.
Such the effect of a small Ear, kept about one in cotton, from ursine
piety or other feelings. Has not Jenkins's Ear re-emerged, with a
vengeance? It has kindled a War: dangerous for kindling other Wars, and
setting the whole world on fire,--as will be too evident in the sequel!
The EAR OF JENKINS is a singular thing. Might have mounted to be a
constellation, like BERENICE'S HAIR, and other small facts become
mythical, had the English People been of poetic turn! Enough of IT, for
the time being.--
This Summer, Anton Ulrich, at Petersburg, did wed his Serene Mecklenburg
Princess, Heiress of all the Russias: "July 14th, 1739,"--three months
before that Drive to Wusterhausen, which we saw lately. Little
Anton Ulrich, Cadet of Brunswick; our Friedrich's Brother-in-Law;--a
noticeably small man in comparison to such bulk of destiny, thinks
Friedrich, though the case is not without example! [A Letter of his to
Suhm; touching on Franz of Lorraine and this Anton Ulrich.]
"Anton Ulrich is now five-and-twenty," says one of my Notebooks;
"a young gentleman of small stature, shining courage in battle, but
somewhat shy and bashful; who has had his troubles in Petersburg
society, till the trial came,--and will have. Here are the stages of
Anton Ulrich's felicity:--
"WINTER, 1732-1733. He was sent for to Petersburg (his Serene Aunt the
German Kaiserinn, and Kaiser Karl's diplomatists, suggesting it there),
with the view of his paying court to the young Mecklenburg Princess,
Heiress of all the Russias, of whom we have often heard. February, 1733,
he arrived on this errand;--not approved of at all by the Mecklenburg
Princess, by Czarina Anne or anybody there: what can be done with
such an uncomfortable little creature? They gave him the Colonelcy of
Cuirassiers: 'Drill there, and endure.'
"SPRING, 1737. Much-enduring, diligently drilling, for four years past,
he went this year to the Turk War under Munnich;--much pleased Munnich,
at Oczakow and elsewhere; who reports in the War-Office high things of
him. And on the whole,--the serene Vienna people now again
bestirring themselves, with whom we are in copartnery in this Turk
business,--little Anton Ulrich is encouraged to proceed. Proceeds;
formally demands his Mecklenburg Princess; and,
"JULY 14th, 1739, weds her; the happiest little man in all the Russias,
and with the biggest destiny, if it prosper. Next year, too, there
came a son and heir; whom they called Iwan, in honor of his Russian
Great-grandfather. Shall we add the subsequent felicities of Anton
Ulrich here; or wait till another opportunity?"
Better wait. This is all, and more than all, his Prussian Majesty,
rolling out of Wusterhausen that afternoon, ever knew of them, or needed
to know!--