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 thau 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 lst, 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 ahove 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 the sudden whirl of Fortune for both parties. The like can
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 EFECT,--WITH IMPORTANT RESULTS,
CHIEFLY IN A LEFT-HAND FORM.
October llth, 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 hahas 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):--
APTILL. "'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 he
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!" |
