HumanitiesWeb.org - History of Friedrich II of Prussia - Frederick the Great (Chapter VI. - Returns by Hanover; Does Not Call on His Royal Uncle There.) by Thomas Carlyle
History of Friedrich II of Prussia - Frederick the Great Chapter VI. - Returns by Hanover; Does Not Call on His Royal Uncle There.
by Thomas Carlyle
Friedrich spent ten days on his circuitous journey home;
considerable inspection to be done, in Minden, Magdeburg, not to
speak of other businesses he had. The old Newspapers are still
more intent upon him, now that the Herstal Affair has broken into
flame: especially the English Newspapers; who guess that there are
passages of courtship going on between great George their King and
him. Here is one fact, correct in every point, for the old London
Public: "Letters from Hanover say, that the King of Prussia passed
within a small distance of that City the 16th inst. N.S., on his
return to Berlin, but did not stop at Herrenhausen;"--about which
there has been such hoping and speculating among us lately.
[ Daily Post, 22d September, 1740;
other London Newspapers from July 31st downwards.] A fact which
the extinct Editor seems to meditate for a day or two; after which
he says (partly in ITALICS), opening his lips the second time,
like a Friar Bacon's Head significant to the Public: "Letters from
Hanover tell us that the Interview, which it was said his Majesty
was to have with the King of Prussia, did not take place, for
certain PRIVATE REASONS, which our Correspondent leaves us to
guess at!"
It is well known Friedrich did not love his little Uncle, then or
thenceforth; still less his little Uncle him: "What is this
Prussia, rising alongside of us, higher and higher, as if it would
reach our own sublime level!" thinks the little Uncle to himself.
At present there is no quarrel between them; on the contrary, as
we have seen, there is a mutual capability of helping one another,
which both recognize; but will an interview tend to forward that
useful result? Friedrich, in the intervals of an ague, with
Herstal just broken out, may have wisely decided, No. "Our sublime
little Uncle, of the waxy complexion, with the proudly staring
fish-eyes,--no wit in him, not much sense, and a great deal of
pride,--stands dreadfully erect, 'plumb and more,' with the
Garter-leg advanced, when one goes to see him; and his remarks are
not of an entertaining nature. Leave him standing there: to him
let Truchsess and Bielfeld suffice, in these hurries, in this ague
that is still upon us." Upon which the dull old Newspapers, Owls
of Minerva that then were, endeavor to draw inferences.
The noticeable fact is, Friedrich did, on this occasion, pass
within a mile or two of his royal Uncle, without seeing him;
and had not, through life, another opportunity; never saw the
sublime little man at all, nor was again so near him.
I believe Friedrich little knows the thick-coming difficulties of
his Britannic Majesty at this juncture; and is too impatient of
these laggard procedures on the part of a man with eyes A FLEUR-
DE-TETE. Modern readers too have forgotten Jenkins's Ear; it is
not till after long study and survey that one begins to perceive
the anomalous profundities of that phenomenon to the poor English
Nation and its poor George II.
The English sent off, last year, a scanty Expedition, "six ships
of the line," only six, under Vernon, a fiery Admiral, a little
given to be fiery in Parliamentary talk withal; and these did
proceed to Porto-Bello on the Spanish Main of South America; did
hurl out on Porto-Bello such a fiery destructive deluge, of
gunnery and bayonet-work, as quickly reduced the poor place to the
verge of ruin, and forced it to surrender with whatever navy,
garrison, goods and resources were in it, to the discretion of
fiery Vernon,--who does not prove implacable, he or his, to a
petitioning enemy. Yes, humble the insolent, but then be merciful
to them, say the admiring Gazetteers. "The actual monster," how
cheering to think, "who tore off Mr. Jenkins's Ear, was got hold
of [actual monster, or even three or four different monsters who
each did it, the "hold got" being mythical, as readers see], and
naturally thought he would be slit to ribbons; but our people
magnanimously pardoned him, magnanimously flung him aside out of
sight;" [ Gentleman's Magazine, x. 124, 145
(date of the Event is 3d December N.S., 1739).] impossible to
shoot a dog in cold blood.
Whereupon Vernon returned home triumphant; and there burst forth
such a jubilation, over the day of small things, as is now
astonishing to think of. Had the Termagant's own Thalamus and
Treasury been bombarded suddenly one night by red-hot balls,
Madrid City laid in ashes, or Baby Carlos's Apanage extinguished
from Creation, there could hardly have been greater English joy
(witness the "Porto-Bellos" they still have, new Towns so named);
so flamy is the murky element growing on that head. And indeed had
the cipher of tar-barrels burnt, and of ale-barrels drunk, and the
general account of wick and tallow spent in illuminations and in
aldermanic exertions on the matter, been accurately taken, one
doubts if Porto-Bello sold, without shot fired, to the highest
bidder, at its floweriest, would have covered such a sum. For they
are a singular Nation, if stirred up from their stagnancy; and are
much in earnest about this Spanish War.
It is said there is now another far grander Expedition on the
stocks: military this time as well as naval, intended for the
Spanish Main;--but of that, for the present, we will defer
speaking. Enough, the Spanish War is a most serious and most
furious business to those old English; and, to us, after forced
study of it, shines out like far-off conflagration, with a certain
lurid significance in the then night of things. Night otherwise
fallen dark and somniferous to modern mankind. As Britannic
Majesty and his Walpoles have, from the first, been dead against
this Spanish War, the problem is all the more ominous, and the
dreadful corollaries that may hang by it the more distressing to
the royal mind.
For example, there is known, or as good as known, to be virtually
some Family Compact, or covenanted Brotherhood of Bourbonism,
French and Spanish: political people quake to ask themselves, "How
will the French keep out of this War, if it continue any length of
time? And in that case, how will Austria, Europe at large?
Jenkins's Ear will have kindled the Universe, not the Spanish Main
only, and we shall be at a fine pass!" The Britannic Majesty
reflects that if France take to fighting him, the first stab given
will probably be in the accessiblest quarter and the intensely
most sensitive,--our own Electoral Dominions where no Parliament
plagues us, our dear native country, Hanover. Extremely
interesting to know what Friedrich of Prussia will do in
such contingency?
Well, truly it might have been King George's best bargain to close
with Friedrich; to guarantee Julich and Berg, and get Fredrich to
stand between the French and Hanover; while George, with an
England behind him, in such humor, went wholly into that Spanish
Business, the one thing needful to them at present. Truly;
but then again, there are considerations: "What is this Friedrich,
just come out upon the world? What real fighting power has he,
after all that ridiculous drilling and recruiting Friedrich
Wilhelm made? Will he be faithful in bargain; is not, perhaps,
from of old, his bias always toward France rather? And the Kaiser,
what will the Kaiser say to it?" These are questions for a
Britannic Majesty! Seldom was seen such an insoluble imbroglio of
potentialities; dangerous to touch, dangerous to leave lying;--and
his Britannic Majesty's procedures upon it are of a very slow
intricate sort; and will grow still more so, year after year, in
the new intricacies that are coming, and be a weariness to my
readers and me. For observe the simultaneous fact. All this while,
Robinson at Vienna is dunning the Imperial Majesty to remember old
Marlborough days and the Laws of Nature; and declare for us
against France, in case of the worst. What an attempt!
Imperial Majesty has no money; Imperial Majesty remembers recent
days rather, and his own last quarrel with France (on the Polish-
Election score), in which you Sea-Powers cruelly stood neuter!
One comfort, and pretty much one only, is left to a nearly
bankrupt Imperial heart; that France does at any rate ratify
Pragmatic Sanction, and instead of enemy to that inestimable
Document has become friend,--if only she be well let alone.
"Let well alone," says the sad Kaiser, bankrupt of heart as well
as purse: "I have saved the Pragmatic, got Fleury to guarantee it;
I will hunt wild swine and not shadows any more: ask me not!"
And now this Herstal business; the Imperial Dehortatoriums,
perhaps of a high nature, that are like to come? More hopeless
proposition the Britannic Majesty never made than this to the
Kaiser. But he persists in it, orders Robinson to persist;
knocks at the Austrian door with one hand, at the Prussian or
Anti-Austrian with the other; and gazes, with those proud fish-
eyes, into perils and potentialities and a sea of troubles.
Wearisome to think of, were not one bound to it! Here, from a
singular CONSTITUTIONAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND, not yet got into
print, are two Excerpts; which I will request the reader to
try if he can take along with him, in view of much that
is Coming:--
1. A JUST WAR.--"This War, which posterity scoffs at as the WAR OF
JENKINS'S EAR, was, if we examine it, a quite indispensable one;
the dim much-bewildered English, driven into it by their deepest
instincts, were, in a chaotic inarticulate way, right and not
wrong in taking it as the Commandment of Heaven. For such, in a
sense, it was; as shall by and by appear. Not perhaps since the
grand Reformation Controversy, under Oliver Cromwell and
Elizabeth, had there, to this poor English People (who are
essentially dumb, inarticulate, from the weight of meaning they
have, notwithstanding the palaver one hears from them in certain
epochs), been a more authentic cause of War. And, what was the
fatal and yet foolish circumstance, their Constitutional Captains,
especially their King, would never and could never regard it as
such; but had to be forced into it by the public rage, there being
no other method left in the case.
"I say, a most necessary War, though of a most stupid appearance;
such the fatality of it:--begun, carried on, ended, as if by a
People in a state of somnambulism! More confused operation never
was. A solid placid People, heavily asleep (and snoring much,
shall we say, and inarticulately grunting and struggling under
indigestions, Constitutional and other? Do but listen to the hum
of those extinct Pamphlets and Parliamentary Oratories of
theirs!),--yet an honestly intending People; and keenly alive to
any commandment from Heaven, that could pierce through the thick
skin of them into their big obstinate heart. Such a commandment,
then and there, was that monition about Jenkins's Ear. Upon which,
so pungent was it to them, they started violently out of bed, into
painful sleep-walking; and went, for twenty years and more,
clambering and sprawling about, far and wide, on the giddy edge of
precipices, over house-tops and frightful cornices and parapets;
in a dim fulfilment of the said Heaven's command. I reckon that
this War, though there were intervals, Treaties of Peace more than
one, and the War had various names,--did not end till 1763.
And then, by degrees, the poor English Nation found that (at, say,
a thousand times the necessary expense, and with imminent peril to
its poor head, and all the bones of its body) it had actually
succeeded,--by dreadful exertions in its sleep! This will be more
apparent by and by; and may be a kind of comfort to the sad
English reader, drearily surveying such somnambulisms on the part
of his poor ancestors."
2. TWO DIFFICULTIES.--"There are Two grand Difficulties in this
Farce-Tragedy of a war; of which only one, and that not the worst
of the Pair, is in the least surmised by the English hitherto.
Difficulty First, which is even worse than the other, and will
surprisingly attend the English in all their Wars now coming, is:
That their fighting-apparatus, though made of excellent material,
cannot fight,--being in disorganic condition; one branch of it,
especially the 'Military' one as they are pleased to call it,
being as good as totally chaotic, and this in a quiet habitual
manner, this long while back. With the Naval branch it is
otherwise; which also is habitual there. The English almost as if
by nature can sail, and fight, in ships; cannot well help doing
it. Sailors innumerable are bred to them; they are planted in the
Ocean, opulent stormy Neptune clipping them in all his moods
forever: and then by nature, being a dumb, much-enduring, much-
reflecting, stout, veracious and valiant kind of People, they
shine in that way of life, which specially requires such.
Without much forethought, they have sailors innumerable, and of
the best quality. The English have among them also, strange as it
may seem to the cursory observer, a great gift of organizing;
witness their Arkwrights and others: and this gift they may often,
in matters Naval more than elsewhere, get the chance of
exercising. For a Ship's Crew, or even a Fleet, unlike a land
Army, is of itself a unity, its fortunes disjoined, dependent on
its own management; and it falls, moreover, as no land army can,
to the undivided guidance of one man,--who (by hypothesis, being
English) has now and then, from of old, chanced to be an
organizing man; and who is always much interested to know and
practise what has been well organized. For you are in contact with
verities, to an unexampled degree, when you get upon the Ocean,
with intent to sail on it, much more to fight on it;--bottomless
destruction raging beneath you and on all hands of you, if you
neglect, for any reason, the methods of keeping it down, and
making it float you to your aim!
The English Navy is in tolerable order at that period. But as to
the English Army,--we may say it is, in a wrong sense, the wonder
of the world, and continues so throughout the whole of this
History and farther! Never before, among the rational sons of
Adam, were Armies sent out on such terms,--namely without a
General, or with no General understanding the least of his
business. The English have a notion that Generalship is not
wanted; that War is not an Art, as playing Chess is, as finding
the Longitude, and doing the Differential Calculus are (and a much
deeper Art than any of these); that War is taught by Nature, as
eating is; that courageous soldiers, led on by a courageous Wooden
Pole with Cocked-hat on it, will do very well. In the world I have
not found opacity of platitude go deeper among any People. This is
Difficulty First, not yet suspected by an English People, capable
of great opacity on some subjects.
"Difficulty Second is, That their Ministry, whom they had to force
into this War, perhaps do not go zealously upon it. And perhaps
even, in the above circumstances, they totally want knowledge how
to go upon it, were they never so zealous; Difficulty Second might
be much helped, were it not for Difficulty First. But the
administering of War is a thing also that does not come to a man
like eating.--This Second Difficulty, suspicion that Walpole and
perhaps still higher heads want zeal, gives his Britannic Majesty
infinite trouble; and"--
--And so, in short, he stands there, with the Garter-leg advanced,
looking loftily into a considerable sea of troubles,--that day
when Friedrich drove past him, Friday, 16th September, 1740, and
never came so near him again.
The next business for Friedrich was a Visit at Brunswick, to the
Affinities and Kindred, in passing; where also was an important
little act to be done: Betrothal of the young Prince, August
Wilhelm, Heir-Presumptive whom we saw in Strasburg, to a Princess
of that House, Louisa Amelia, younger Sister of Friedrich's own
Queen. A modest promising arrangement; which turned out well
enough,--though the young Prince, Father to the Kings that since
are, was not supremely fortunate otherwise. [Betrothal was 20th
September, 1740; Marriage, 5th January, 1742 (Buchholz, i. 207).]
After which, the review at Magdeburg; and home on the 24th, there
to "be busy as a Turk or as a M. Jordan,"--according to what we
read long since.
