The first of these gout-attacks seems to have come in the end of September, and to have lasted about a month; after which the illness abated, and everybody thought it was gone. The Kaiser-Joseph evolution must have been in October, and have got its mockery in the next months. Friedrich, writing to VOLTAIRE, October 22d, has these words:... "A pair of charming Letters from Ferney; to which, had they been from the great Demiurgus himself, I could not have dictated Answer. Gout held me tied and garroted for four weeks;—gout in both feet and in both hands; and, such its extreme liberality, in both elbows too: at present the pains and the fever have abated, and I feel only a very great exhaustion." [Ib. xxv. 44.] "Four consecutive attacks; hope they are now all over;" but we read, within the Spring following, that there have been in all twelve of them; and in May, 1776, the Newspapers count eighteen quasi-consecutive. So that in reality the King's strength was sadly reduced; and his health, which did not recover its old average till about 1780, continued, for several years after this bad fit, to be a constant theme of curiosity to the Gazetteer species, and a matter of solicitude to his friends and to his enemies.
Of the Kaiser's immense ambition there can be no question. He is stretching himself out on every side; "seriously wishing," thinks Friedrich, "that he could 'revivify the German Reich,'"—new Barbarossa in improved FIXED form; how noble! Certainly, to King Friedrich's sad conviction, "the Austrian Court is aiming to swallow all manner of dominions that may fall within its grasp." Wants Bosnia and Servia in the East; longs to seize certain Venetian Territories, which would unite Trieste and the Milanese to the Tyrol. Is throwing out hooks on Modena, on the Ferrarese, on this and on that. Looking with eager eyes on Bavaria,—the situation of which is peculiar; the present Kur-Baiern being elderly, childless; and his Heir the like, who withal is already Kur-Pfalz, and will unite the Two Electorates under one head; a thing which Austria regards with marked dislike. [OEuvres de Frederic, vi. 123.] These are anxious considerations to a King in Friedrich's sick state. In his private circle, too, there are sorrows: death of Fouquet, death of Quintus Icilius, of Seidlitz, Quantz (good old Quantz, with his fine Flutings these fifty years, and the still finer memories he awoke! [Friedrich's Teacher of the Flute; procured for him by his Mother (supra vi. 144).]),—latterly an unusual number of deaths. The ruggedly intelligent Quintus, a daily companion, and guest at the supper-table, died few months before this fit of gout; and must have been greatly missed by Friedrich. Fouquet, at Brandenburg, died last year: his benefactor in the early Custrin distresses, his "Bayard," and chosen friend ever since; how conspicuously dear to Friedrich to the last is still evident. A Friedrich getting lonely enough, and the lights of his life going out around him;—has but one sure consolation, which comes to him as compulsion withal, and is not neglected, that of standing steadfast to his work, whatever the mood and posture be.
The Event of 1776 is Czarowitsh Paul's arrival in Berlin, and Betrothal to a second Wife there; his first having died in childbirth lately. The first had been of Friedrich's choosing, but had behaved ill,—seduced by Spanish-French Diplomacies, by this and that, poor young creature:—the second also was of Friedrich's choosing, and a still nearer connection: figure what a triumphant event! Event now fallen dead to every one of us; and hardly admitting the smallest Note,—except for chronology's sake, which it is always satisfactory to keep clear:—
"Czarowitsh Paul's first Wife, the Hessen-Darmstadt Princess of Three, died of her first child April 26th, 1776: everybody whispered, 'It is none of Paul's!' who, nevertheless, was inconsolable, the wild heart of him like to break on the occurrence. By good luck, Prince Henri had set out, by invitation, on a second visit to Petersburg; and arrived there also on April 26th, [Rodenbeck, iii. 139-146.] the very day of the fatality. Prince Henri soothed, consoled the poor Czarowitsh; gradually brought him round; agreed with his Czarina Mother, that he must have a new Wife; and dexterously fixed her choice on a 'Niece of the King's and Henri's.' Eldest Daughter of Eugen of Wurtemberg, of whom, as an excellent General, though also as a surly Husband, readers have some memory; now living withdrawn at Mumpelgard, the Wurtemberg Apanage [Montbeillard, as the French call it], in these piping times of Peace:—she is the Princess. To King Friedrich's great surprise and joy. The Mumpelgard Principalities, and fortunate Princess, are summoned to Berlin. Czarowitsh Paul, under Henri's escort, and under gala and festivities from the Frontier onward, arrived in Berlin 21st July, 1776; was betrothed to his Wurtemberg Princess straightway; and after about a fortnight of festivities still more transcendent, went home with her to Petersburg; and was there wedded, 18th October following;—Czar and Czarina, she and he, twenty years after, and their posterity reigning ever since. [OEuvres de Frederic, vi. 120-122.]
"At Vienna," says the King, "everybody was persuaded the Czarowitsh would never come to Berlin. Prince Kaunitz had been,"—been at his old tricks again, playing his sharpest, in the Court of Petersburg again: what tricks (about Poland and otherwise) let us not report, for it is now interesting to nobody. Of the Czarowitsh Visit itself I will remark only,—what seems to be its one chance of dating itself in any of our memories,—that it fell out shortly after the Sherlock dinner with Voltaire (in 1776, April 27th the one event, July 21st the other);—and that here is, by pure accident, the exuberant erratic Sherlock, once more, and once only, emerging on us for a few moments!—
Harris, afterwards Earl of Malmesbury, succeeded Mitchell at Berlin; "Polish troubles" (heartily indifferent to England), "Dantzig squabbles" (miraculously important there),—nothing worth the least mention now. Excellency Harris quitted Berlin in Autumn, 1776; gave place to an Excellency Hugh Elliot (one of the Minto Elliots, Brother of the first Earl of Minto, and himself considerably noted in the world), of whom we have a few words to say.
Elliot has been here since April, 1777; stays some five years in this post;—with not much Diplomatic employment, I should think, but with a style of general bearing and social physiognomy, which, with some procedures partly incidental as well, are still remembered in Berlin. Something of spying, too, doubtless there was; bribing of menials, opening of Letters: I believe a great deal of that went on; impossible to prevent under the carefulest of Kings. [An ingenious young Friend of mine, connected with Legationary Business, found lately, at the Hague, a consecutive Series, complete for four or five years (I think, from 1780 onwards), of Friedrich's LETTERS to his MINISTER IN LONDON,—Copies punctually filched as they went through the Post-office there:—specimens of which I saw; and the whole of which I might have seen, had it been worth the effort necessary. But Friedrich's London Minister, in this case, was a person of no significance or intimacy; and the King's Letters, though strangely exact, clear and even elucidative on English Court-Politics and vicissitudes, seemed to be nearly barren as to Prussian.] Hitherto, with one exception to be mentioned presently, his main business seems to have been that of introducing, on different Court-Days, a great number of Travelling English, who want to see the King, and whom the King little wants, but quietly submits to. Incoherent Sherlock, whom we discover to have been of the number, has, in his tawdry disjointed Book, this Passage:—
"The last time of my seeing him [this Hero-King of my heart] was at Berlin [not a hint of the time when]. He came thither to receive the adieus of the Baron de Swieten, Minister from their Imperial Majesties [thank you; that means 8th October, 1777 [Rodenbeck, iii. 172.]], and to give audience to the new Minister, the Count Cobenzl. The Foreign Ministers, the persons who were to be presented [we, for instance], and the Military, were all that were at Court. We were ten English [thirteen by tale]: the King spoke to the first and the last; not on account of their situation, but because their names struck him. The first was Major Dalrymple. To him the King said: 'You have been presented to me before?' 'I ask your Majesty's pardon; it was my Uncle' (Lord Dalrymple, of whom presently). Mr. Pitt [unknown to me which Pitt, subsequent Lord Camelford or another] was the last. THE KING: 'Are you a relation of Lord Chatham's?' 'Yes, Sire.'—'He is a man whom I highly esteem' [read "esteemed"].
"He then went to the Foreign Ministers; and talked more to Prince Dolgorucki, the Russian Ambassador, than to any other. In the midst of his conversation with this Prince, he turned abruptly to Mr. Elliot, the English Minister, and asked: 'What is the Duchess of Kingston's family name?' This transition was less Pindaric than it appears; he had just been speaking of the Court of Petersburg, and that Lady was then there." [Sherlock, ii. 27.] Whereupon Sherlock hops his ways again; leaving us considerably uncertain. But, by a curious accident, here, at first-hand, is confirmation of the flighty creature;—a Letter from Excellency Elliot himself having come our way:—
TO WILLIAM EDEN, ESQUIRE (of the Foreign Office, London; Elliot's Brother-in-law; afterwards LORD AUCKLAND).
"BERLIN, 12th October, 1777.
"MY DEAR EDEN,—If you are waiting upon the pinnacle of all impatience to give me news from the Howes [out on their then famous "Seizure of Philadelphia," which came to what we know!], I am waiting with no less impatience to receive it, and think every other subject too little interesting to be mentioned. I must, however, tell you, the King has been here; ["Came to Berlin 8th October," on the Van-Swieten errand; "saw Princess Amelia twice; and on the 9th returned to Potsdam" (Rodenbeck, iii. 172).] to the astonishment of all croakers, hearty and in high spirits. He was very civil to all of us. I was attended by one dozen English, which nearly completes my half-hundred this season. Pitt made one of the twelve, and was particularly distinguished. KING: "Monsieur est-il parent de Mylord Chatham?' PITT: 'Oui, Sire.' KING: 'C'est un homme que j'ai beaucoup estime.'
"You have no idea of the joy the people expressed to see the King on Horseback,—all the Grub-street nonsense of 'a Country groaning under the weight of its burdens,' of 'a Nation governed with a rod of iron,' vanished before the sincere acclamations of all ranks, who joined in testifying their enthusiasm for their great Monarch. I long for Harris and Company [Excellency Harris; making for Russia, I believe]; they are to pig together in my house; so that I flatter myself with having a near view, if not a taste, of connubial joys. My love to E and e [your big Eleanor and your LITTLE, a baby in arms, who are my Sister and Niece;—pretty, this!]. Your most affectionate, H. E.
"P.S. I quite forgot to tell you, I sent out a servant some time ago to England to bring a couple of Horses. He will deliver some Packets to you; which I beg you will send, with Lord Marischal's compliments, to their respective Addresses. There is also a china cup for Mr. Macnamara, Lawyer, in the Temple or Lincoln's Inn, from the same person [lively old gentleman, age 91 gone; did die next year]. What does Eleanor mean about my Congratulatory Letter to Lord Suffolk [our Foreign Secretary, on his marriage lately]? I wished his Lordship, most sincerely, every happiness in his new state, as soon as I knew of it. I beg, however, Eleanor will do the like;—and although it is not my system to 'congratulate' anybody upon marriage, yet I never fail to wish them what, I think, it is always two to one they do not obtain." [EDEN-HOUSE CORRESPONDENCE (part of which, not this, has been published in late years).]
As to the Dalrymple of SHERLOCK, read this (FRIEDRICH TO D'ALEMBERT, two years before [OEuvres de Frederic, xxv. 21: 5th August, 1775.]):... "A Mylord of wonderful name [Lord Dalrymple, if I could remember it], of amiable genius (AU NOM BAROQUE, A L'ESPRIT AIMABLE), gave me a Letter on your part. 'Ah, how goes the Prince of Philosophers, then? Is he gay; is he busy; did you see him often?' To which the Mylord: 'I? No; I am straight from London!'"—"QUOI DONC—?" In short, knowing my Anaxagoras, this Mylord preferred to be introduced by him; and was right: "One of the amiablest Englishmen I have seen; I except only the name, which I shall never remember [but do, on this new occasion]: Why doesn't he get himself unchristened of it, and take that of Stair, which equally belongs to him?" (Earl of Stair by and by; Nephew, or Grand-Nephew, of the great Earl of Stair, once so well known to some of us. Becomes English Minister here in 1785, if we much cared.)
That word of reminiscence about Pitt is worth more attention. Not spoken lightly, but with meaning and sincerity; something almost pathetic in it, after the sixteen years separation: "A man whom I much esteemed,"—and had good reason to do so! Pitt's subsequent sad and bright fortunes, from the end of the Seven-Years War and triumphant summing up of the JENKINS'S-EAR QUESTION, are known to readers. His Burton-Pynsent meed of honor (Estate of 3,000 pounds a year bequeathed him by an aged Patriot, "Let THIS bit of England go a noble road!"); his lofty silences, in the World Political; his vehement attempts in it, when again asked to attempt, all futile,—with great pain to him, and great disdain from him:—his passionate impatiences on minor matters, "laborers [ornamenting Burton-Pynsent Park, in Somersetshire] planting trees by torchlight;" "kitchen people [at Hayes in North Kent, House still to be seen] roasting a series of chickens, chicken after chicken all day, that at any hour, within ten minutes, my Lord may dine!"—these things dwell in the memory of every worthy reader. Here, saved from my poor friend Smelfungus (nobody knows how much of him I suppress), is a brief jotting, in the form of rough MEMORANDA, if it be permissible:—
"Pitt four years King; lost in quicksands after that; off to Bath, from gout, from semi-insanity; 'India should pay, but how?' Lost in General-Warrants, in Wilkes Controversies, American Revolts,—generally, in shallow quicksands;—dies at his post, but his post had become a delirious one.
"A delicate, proud, noble man; pure as refined gold. Something sensitive, almost feminine in him; yet with an edge, a fire, a steadiness; liker Friedrich, in some fine principal points, than any of his Contemporaries. The one King England has had, this King of Four Years, since the Constitutional system set in. Oliver Cromwell, yes indeed,—but he died, and there was nothing for it but to hang his body on the gallows. Dutch William, too, might have been considerable,—but he was Dutch, and to us proved to be nothing. Then again, so long as Sarah Jennings held the Queen's Majesty in bondage, some gleams of Kinghood for us under Marlborough:—after whom Noodleism and Somnambulism, zero on the back of zero, and all our Affairs, temporal, spiritual and eternal, jumbling at random, which we call the Career of Freedom, till Pitt stretched out his hand upon them. For four years; never again, he; never again one resembling him,—nor indeed can ever be.
"Never, I should think. Pitts are not born often; this Pitt's ideas could occur in the History of Mankind once only. Stranger theory of society, completely believed in by a clear, sharp and altogether human head, incapable of falsity, was seldom heard of in the world. For King: open your mouth, let the first gentleman that falls into it (a mass of Hanover stolidity, stupidity, foreign to you, heedless of you) be King: Supreme Majesty he, with hypothetical decorations, dignities, solemn appliances, high as the stars (the whole, except the money, a mendacity, and sin against Heaven): him you declare Sent-of-God, supreme Captain of your England; and having done so,—tie him up (according to Pitt) with Constitutional straps, so that he cannot stir hand or foot, for fear of accidents: in which state he is fully cooked; throw me at his Majesty's feet, and let me bless Heaven for such a Pillar of Cloud by day.
"Pitt, closely as I could scrutinize, seems never to have doubted in his noble heart but he had some reverence for George II. 'Reverenced his Office,' says a simple reader? Alas, no, my friend, man does not 'reverence Office,' but only sham-reverences it. I defy him to reverence anything but a Man filling an Office (with or without salary) nobly. Filling a noble office ignobly; doing a celestial task in a quietly infernal manner? It were kinder perhaps to run your sword through him (or through yourself) than to take to revering him! If inconvenient to slay him or to slay yourself (as is oftenest likely),—keep well to windward of him; be not, without necessity, partaker of his adventures in this extremely earnest Universe!...
"No; Nature does not produce many Pitts:—nor will any Pitt ever again apply in Parliament for a career. 'Your voices, your most sweet voices; ye melodious torrents of Gadarenes Swine, galloping rapidly down steep places, I, for one; know whither I'"...—Enough.
About four months before this time, Elliot had done a feat, not in the Diplomatic line at all, or by his own choice at all, which had considerably astonished the Diplomatic world at Berlin, and was doubtless well in the King's thoughts during this introduction of the Dozen. The American War is raging and blundering along,—a delectable Lord George Germaine (ALIAS Sackville, no other than our old Minden friend) managing as War-Minister, others equally skilful presiding at the Parliamentary helm; all becoming worse and worse off, as the matter proceeds. The revolted Colonies have their Franklins, Lees, busy in European Courts: "Help us in our noble struggle, ye European Courts;, now is your chance on tyrannous England!" To which France at least does appear to be lending ear. Lee, turned out from Vienna, is at work in Berlin, this while past; making what progress is uncertain to some people.
I know not whether it was by my Lord Suffolk's instigation, or what had put the Britannic Cabinet on such an idea,—perhaps the stolen Letters of Friedrich, which show so exact a knowledge of the current of events in America as well as England ("knows every step of it, as if he were there himself, the Arch-Enemy of honest neighbors in a time of stress!")—but it does appear they had got it into their sagacious heads that the bad neighbor at Berlin was, in effect, the Arch-Enemy, probably mainspring of the whole matter; and that it would be in the highest degree interesting to see clearly what Lee and he had on hand. Order thereupon to Elliot: "Do it, at any price;" and finally, as mere price will not answer, "Do it by any method,—STEAL Lee's Despatch-Box for us!"
Perhaps few Excellencies living had less appetite for such a job than Elliot; but his Orders were peremptory, "Lee is a rebel, quasi-outlaw; and you must!" Elliot thereupon took accurate survey of the matter; and rapidly enough, and with perfect skill, though still a novice in Berlin affairs, managed to do it. Privily hired, or made his servant hire, the chief Housebreaker or Pickpocket in the City: "Lee lodges in such and such a Hostelry; bring us his Red-Box for a thirty hours; it shall be well worth your while!" And in brief space the Red-Box arrives, accordingly; a score or two of ready-writers waiting for it, who copy all day, all night, at the top of their speed, till they have enough: which done, the Lee Red-Box is left on the stairs of the Lee Tavern; Box locked again, and complete; only the Friedrich-Lee Secrets completely pumped out of it, and now rushing day and night towards England, to illuminate the Supreme Council-Board there.
This astonishing mass of papers is still extant in England; [In the EDEN-HOUSE ARCHIVES; where a natural delicacy (unaware that the questionable Legationary FACT stands in print for so many years past) is properly averse to any promulgation of them.]—the outside of them I have seen, by no means the inside, had I wished it;—but am able to say from other sources, which are open to all the world, that seldom had a Supreme Council-Board procured for itself, by improper or proper ways, a Discovery of less value! Discovery that Lee has indeed been urgent at Berlin; and has raised in Friedrich the question, "Have you got to such a condition that I can, with safety and advantage, make a Treaty of Commerce with you?"—That his Minister Schulenburg has, by Order, been investigating Lee on that head; and has reported, "No, your Majesty, Lee and People are not in such a condition;" that his Majesty has replied, "Well, let him wait till they are;" and that Lee is waiting accordingly. In general, That his Majesty is not less concerned in guidance or encouragement of the American War than he is in ditto of the Atlantic Tides or of the East-Wind (though he does keep barometers and meteorological apparatus by him); and that we of the Council-Board are a—what shall I say! Not since the case of poor Dr. Cameron, in 1753, when Friedrich was to have joined the Highlanders with 15,000 chosen Prussians for Jacobite purposes,—and the Cham of Tartary to have taken part in the Bangorian Controversy,—was there a more perfect platitude, or a deeper depth of ignorance as to adjacent objects on the part of Governing Men. For shame, my friends!—
This surprising bit of Burglary, so far as I can gather from the Prussian Books, must have been done on WEDNESDAY, JUNE 25th, 1777; Box (with essence pumped out) restored to staircase night of Thursday,—Police already busy, Governor Ramin and Justice-President Philippi already apprised, and suspicion falling on the English Minister,—whose Servant ("Arrest him we cannot without a King's Warrant, only procurable at Potsdam!") vanishes bodily. Friday, 27th, Ramin and Philippi make report; King answers, "greatly astonished:" a "GARSTIGE SACHE (ugly Business), which will do the English no honor:" "Servant fled, say you? Trace it to the bottom; swift!" Excellency Elliot, seeing how matters lay, owned honestly to the Official People, That it was his Servant (Servant safe gone, Chief Pickpocket not mentioned at all); SUNDAY EVENING, 29th, King orders thereupon, "Let the matter drop." These Official Pieces, signed by the King, by Hertzberg, Ramin and others, we do not give: here is Friedrich's own notice of it to his Brother Henri:—
"POTSDAM, 29th JUNE, 1777.... There has just occurred a strange thing at Berlin. Three days ago, in absence of the Sieur Lee, Envoy of the American Colonies, the Envoy of England went [sent!] to the Inn where Lee lodged, and carried off his Portfolio; it seems he was in fear, however, and threw it down, without opening it, on the stairs [alas, no, your Majesty, not till after pumping the essence out]. All Berlin is talking of it. If one were to act with rigor, it would be necessary to forbid this man the Court, since he has committed a public theft: but, not to make a noise, I suppress the thing. Sha'n't fail, however, to write to England about it, and indicate that there was another way of dealing with such a matter, for they are impertinent" (say, ignorant, blind as moles, your Majesty; that is the charitable reading!). [OEuvres de Frederic, xxvi. 394. In PREUSS, v. (he calls it "iv." or "URKUNDENBUCH to vol. iv.," but it is really and practically vol. v.) 278, 279, are the various Official Reports.]
This was not Excellency Elliot's Burglary, as readers see,—among all the Excellencies going, I know not that there is one with less natural appetite for such a job; but sometimes what can a necessitous Excellency do? Elliot is still remembered in Berlin society, not for this only, but for emphatic things of a better complexion which he did; a man more justly estimated there, than generally here in our time. Here his chief fame rests on a witty Anecdote, evidently apocryphal, and manufactured in the London Clubs: "Who is this Hyder-Ali," said the old King to him, one day (according to the London Clubs). "Hm," answered Elliot, with exquisite promptitude, politeness and solidity of information, "C'EST UN VIEUX VOLEUR QUI COMMENCE A RADOTER (An old robber, now falling into his dotage),"—let his dotard Majesty take that.
Alas, my friends!—Ignorance by herself is an awkward lumpish wench; not yet fallen into vicious courses, nor to be uncharitably treated: but Ignorance and Insolence,—these are, for certain, an unlovely Mother and Bastard! Yes;—and they may depend upon it, the grim Parish-beadles of this Universe are out on the track of them, and oakum and the correction-house are infallible sooner or later! The clever Elliot, who knew a hawk from a hernshaw, never floundered into that platitude. This, however, is a joke of his, better or worse (I think, on his quitting Berlin in 1782, without visible resource or outlook): "I am far from having a Sans-Souci," writes he to the Edens; "and I think I am coming to be SANS SIX-SOUS."—Here still are two small Fractions, which I must insert; and then rigorously close. Kaiser Joseph, in these months, is travelling through France to instruct his Imperial mind. The following is five weeks anterior to that of Lee's Red-Box:—
1. A BIT OF DIALOGUE AT PARIS (Saturday, 17th May, 1777). After solemn Session of the ACADEMIE FRANCAISE, held in honor of an illustrious COMTE DE FALKENSTEIN (privately, Kaiser Joseph II.), who has come to look at France, [Minute and rather entertaining Account of his procedures there, and especially of his two Visits to the Academy (first was May 10th), in Mayer, Reisen Josephs II. (Leipzig, 1778), pp. 112-132, 147 et seq.]—Comte de Falkenstein was graciously pleased to step up to D'Alembert, who is Perpetual Secretary here; and this little Dialogue ensued:—
FALKENSTEIN. "I have heard you are for Germany this season; some say you intend to become German altogether?"
D'ALEMBERT. "I did promise myself the high honor of a visit to his Prussian Majesty, who has deigned to invite me, with all the kindness possible: but, alas, for such hopes! The bad state of my health—"
FALKENSTEIN. "It seems to me you have already been to see the King of Prussia?"
D'ALEMBERT. "Two times; once in 1756 [1755, 17th-19th June,—if you will be exact], at Wesel, when I remained only a few days; and again in 1763, when I had the honor to pass three or four months with him. Since that time I have always longed to have the honor of seeing his Majesty again; but circumstances hindered me. I, above all, regretted not to have been able to pay my court to him that year he saw the Emperor at Neisse,—but at this moment there is nothing more to be wished on that head" (Don't bow: the Gentleman is INCOGNITO).
FALKENSTEIN. "It was very natural that the Emperor, young, and desiring to instruct himself, should wish to see such a Prince as the King of Prussia; so great a Captain, a Monarch of such reputation, and who has played so great a part. It was a Scholar going to see his Master" (these are his very words, your Majesty).
D'ALEMBERT. "I wish M. le Comte de Falkenstein could see the Letters which the King of Prussia did me the honor to write after that Interview: it would then appear how this Prince judged of the Emperor, as all the world has since done." ["D'Alembert to Friedrich [in OEuvres de Frederic, xxv. 75], 23d May, 1777." Ib. xxv. 82; "13th August, 1777."]
KING TO D'ALEMBERT (three months after. Kaiser is home; passed Ferney, early in August; and did not call on Voltaire, as is well known).... "I hear the Comte de Falkenstein has been seeing harbors, arsenals, ships, manufactures, and has n't seen Voltaire. Had I been in the Emperor's place, I would not have passed Ferney without a glance at the old Patriarch, were it only to say that I had seen and heard him. Arsenals, ships, manufactures, these you can see anywhere; but it requires ages to produce a Voltaire. By the rumors I hear, it will have been a certain great Lady Theresa, very Orthodox and little Philosophical, who forbade her Son to visit the Apostle of Tolerance."
D'ALEMBERT (in answer): "No doubt your Majesty's guess is right. It must have been the Lady Mother. Nobody here believes that the advice came from his Sister [Queen Marie Antoinette], who, they say, is full of esteem for the Patriarch, and has more than once let him know it by third parties." [OEuvres de Frederic, xxv. 84.]
According to Friedrich, Joseph's reflections in France were very gloomy: "This is all one Country; strenuously kneaded into perfect union and incorporation by the Old Kings: my discordant Romish Reich is of many Countries,—and should be of one, if Sovereigns were wise and strenuous!" [OEuvres de Frederic, vi. 125.]
2. A CABINET-ORDER AND ACTUAL (fac-simile) SIGNATURE OF FRIEDRICH'S.—After unknown travels over the world, this poor brown Bit of Paper, with a Signature of Friedrich's to it, has wandered hither; and I have had it copied, worthy or not. A Royal Cabinet-Order on the smallest of subjects; but perhaps all the more significant on that account; and a Signature which readers may like to see.
Fordan, or Fordon, is in the Bromberg Department in West Preussen,—Bromberg no longer a heap of ruins; but a lively, new-built, paved, CANALLED and industrious trading Town. At Fordan is a Grain-Magazine: Bein ("Leg," DER BEIN, as they slightingly call him) is Proviant-Master there; and must consider his ways,—the King's eye being on him. Readers can now look and understand:—
AN DEN OBER-PROVIANTMEISTER BEIN, zu Fordan.
"POTSDAM, den 9ten April, 1777.
"Seiner Koniglicher Majestat von Preussen, Unser allergnadigster Herr, lassen dem Ober-Proviantmeister Bein hiebey die Getraide-Preistabelle des Brombergschen Departments zufertigen; Woraus derselbe ersiehet wie niedrig solche an einigen Orthen sind, und dass zu Inovraclaw und Strezeltnow der Scheffel Roggen um 12 Groschen kostet: da solches nun hier so wohlfeil ist, somuss ja der Preis in Pohlen noch wohl geringer, und ist daher nicht abzusehen warum die Pohlen auf so hohe Preise bestehen; der Bein muss sich daher nun rechte Muhe gebem, und den Einkauf so wohlfeil als nur immer mog lich zu machen suchen."
"His Royal Majesty of Preussen, Our most all-gracious Lord, lets herewith, to the Head Proviant-Master Bein, the Grain-Prices Table of the Bromberg Department be despatched; Wherefrom Bein perceives how low in some places these are, and that, at Inovraclaw and Strezeltnow the Bushel of Rye costs about 14 Pence: now, as it is so cheap there, the price in Poland must be still smaller; and therefore it is not to be conceived why the Poles demand such high prices," as the said Bein reports: "Bein therefore is charged to take especial pains, and try not to make the purchase dearer than is indispensable."
FRIEDRICH'S SIGNATURE HERE—PAGE 390, BOOK XXI——
[Reference re signature] Original kindly furnished me by Mr. W. H. Doeg, Barlow Moor, Manchester: whose it now is,—purchased in London, A.D. 1863. The FRH of German CURSIV-SCHRIFT (current hand), which the woodcutter has appended, shut off by a square, will show English readers what the King means: an "Frh" done as by a flourish of one's stick, in the most compendious and really ingenious manner,—suitable for an economic King, who has to repeat it scores of times every day of his life!
At the very beginning of 1778, the chronic quarrel with Austria passed, by an accident just fallen out, into the acute state; rose gradually, and, in spite of negotiating, issued in a thing called Bavarian-Succession War, which did not end till Spring of the following year. The accident was this. At Munchen, December 30th, 1777, Max Joseph Kurfurst of Baiern, only Brother of our lively friend the Electress-Dowager of Saxony, died; suddenly, of small-pox unskilfully treated. He was in his fifty-second year; childless, the last of that Bavarian branch. His Heir is Karl Theodor, Kur-Pfalz (Elector Palatine), who is now to unite the Two Electorates,—unless Austria can bargain with him otherwise. Austria's desire to get hold of Baiern is of very old standing; and we have heard lately how much it was an object with Kaunitz and his young Kaiser. With Karl Theodor they did bargain,—in fact, had beforehand as good as bargained,—and were greatly astonished, when King Friedrich, alone of all Teutschland or the world, mildly, but peremptorily, interfered, and said No,—with effect, as is well known.
Something, not much, must be said of this Bavarian-Succession War; which occupied, at a pitch of tension and anxiety foreign to him for a long time, fifteen months of Friedrich's old age (January, 1778-March, 1779); and filled all Europe round him and it, in an extraordinary manner. Something; by no means much, now that we have seen the issue of such mountains all in travail. Nobody could then say but it bade fair to become a Fourth Austrian-Prussian War, as sanguinary as the Seven-Years had been; for in effect there stood once more the Two Nations ranked against each other, as if for mortal duel, near half a million men in whole; parleying indeed, but brandishing their swords, and ever and anon giving mutual clash of fence, as if the work had begun, though there always intervened new parleying first.
And now everybody sees that the work never did begin; that parleying, enforced by brandishing, turned out to be all the work there was: and everybody has forgotten it, and, except for specific purposes, demands not to be put in mind of it. Mountains in labor were not so frequent then as now, when the Penny Newspaper has got charge of them; though then as now to practical people they were a nuisance. Mountains all in terrific travail-throes, threatening to overset the solar system, have always a charm, especially for the more foolish classes: but when once the birth has taken place, and the wretched mouse ducks past you, or even nothing at all can be seen to duck past, who is there but impatiently turns on his heel?
Those Territories, which adjoin on its own dominions, would have been extremely commodious to Austria;—as Austria itself has long known; and by repeatedly attempting them on any chance given (as in 1741-1745, to go no farther back), has shown how well it knows. Indeed, the whole of Bavaria fairly incorporated and made Austrian, what an infinite convenience would it be!
"Do but look on the Map [this Note is not by Busching, but by somebody of Austrian tendencies]: you would say, Austria without Bavaria is like a Human Figure with its belly belonging to somebody else. Bavaria is the trunk or belly of the Austrian Dominions, shutting off all the limbs of them each from the other; making for central part a huge chasm.
"Ober-Pfalz,—which used to be Kur-Pfalz's, which is Bavaria's since we took it from the Winter-King and bestowed it in that way,—Ober-Pfalz, the country of Amberg, where Maillebois once pleased to make invasion of us;—does not it adjoin on the Bohemian Forest? The RIBS there, Bohemian all, up to the shoulder, are ours: but the shoulder-blade and left arm, whose are they! Austria Proper and Hungary, these may be taken as sitting-part and lower limbs, ample and fleshy; but see, just above the pelvis, on the south side, how Bavaria and its Tyrol sticks itself in upon Austria, who fancied she also had a Tyrol, and far the more important one. Our Tyrol, our Styria, Carniola, Carinthia,—Bavaria blocks these in. Then the Swabian Austria,—Breisach, and those Upper-Rhine Countries, from which we invade France,—we cannot reach them except through Bavarian ground. Swabian Austria should be our right arm, fingers of it reaching into Switzerland; Ober-Pfalz our left:—and as to the broad breast between these two; left arm and broad breast are Bavaria's, not ours. Of the Netherlands, which might be called geographically the head of Austria, alas, the long neck, Lorraine, was once ours; but whose is it? Irrecoverable for the present,—perhaps may not always be so!"
These are Kaunitz's ideas; and the young Kaiser has eagerly adopted them as the loadstar of his life. "Make the Reich a reality again," thinks the Kaiser (good, if only possible, think we too); "make Austria great; Austria is the Reich, how else can the Reich be real?"
In practical politics these are rather wild ideas; but they are really Kaunitz's and his Kaiser's; and were persisted in long after this Bavarian matter got its check: and as a whole, they got repeated checks; being impossible all, and far from the meaning of a Time big with French Revolution, and with quite other things than world-greatness to Austria, and rejuvenescence on such or on any terms to the poor old Holy Roman Reich, which had been a wiggery so long. Nobody could guess of what it was that France or the world might be with child: nobody, till the birth in 1789, and even for a generation afterwards. France is weakly and unwieldy, has strange enough longings for chalky, inky, visionary, foolish substances, and may be in the family-way for aught we know.
To Kaunitz it is pretty clear that France will not stand in his path in this fine little Bavarian business; which is all he cares for at present. England in war with its Colonies; Russia attentive to its Turk; foreign Nations, what can they do but talk; remonstrate more or less, as they did in the case of Poland; and permit the thing with protest? Only from one Sovereign Person, and from him I should guess not much, does Kaunitz expect serious opposition: from Friedrich of Prussia; to whom no enlargement of Austria can be matter of indifference. "But cannot we perhaps make it worth his while?" thinks Kaunitz: "Tush, he is old and broken; thought to be dying; has an absolute horror of war. He too will sit quiet; or we must make it worth his while." In this calculation Kaunitz deceived himself; we are now shortly to see how.
Kaunitz's Case, when he brings it before the Reich, and general Public of mankind and its Gazetteers, will by no means prove to be a strong one. His Law "TITLE" is this:—
"Archduke Albert V., of Austria, subsequently Kaiser Albert II., had married Elizabeth, only Daughter of Kaiser Sigismund SUPER-GRAMMATICAM: Albert is he who got three crowns in one year, Hungary, Bohemia, Romish Reich; and 'we hope a fourth,' say the Old Historians, 'which was a heavenly and eternal one,'—died, in short (1439, age forty). From him come the now Kaisers.
"In 1426, thirteen years before this event of the Crowns, Sigismund GRAMMATICAM had infeoffed him in a thing still of shadowy nature,—the Expectancy of a Straubingen Princedom; pleasant extensive District, only not yet fallen, or like falling vacant: 'You shall inherit, you and yours (who are also my own), so soon as this present line of Wittelsbachers die!' said Kaiser Sigismund, solemnly, in two solemn sheepskins. 'Not a whit of it,' would the Wittelsbachers have answered, had they known of the affair. 'When we die out, there is another Line of Wittelsbachers, plenty of other lines; and House-treaties many and old, settling all that, without help of you and Albert of the Three Crowns!' And accordingly there had never come the least fruit, or attempt at fruit, from these two Sigismund Sheepskins; which were still lying in the Vienna Archives, where they had lain since the creation of them, known to an Antiquary or two, but not even by them thought worthy of mention in this busy world. This was literally all the claim that Austria had; and every by-stander admitted it to be, in itself, not worth a rush."
"In itself perhaps not," thought Kaunitz; "but the free consent of Karl Theodor the Heir, will not that be a Title in full? One would hope so; in the present state of Europe: France, England, Russia, every Nation weltering overhead in its own troubles and affairs, little at leisure for ours!" And it is with Karl Theodor, to make out a full Title for himself there, that Kaunitz has been secretly busy this long time back, especially in the late critical days of poor Kurfurst Max.
Karl Theodor of the Pfalz, now fallen Heir to Baiern, is a poor idle creature, of purely egoistic, ornamental, dilettante nature; sunk in theatricals, bastard children and the like; much praised by Voltaire, who sometimes used to visit him; and by Collini, to whom he is a kind master. Karl Theodor cares little for the integrity of Baiern, much for that of his own skin. Very long ago, in 1742, in poor Kaiser Karl's Coronation time, we saw him wedded, him and another, to two fair Sister Sulzbach Princesses, [Supra, viii. 119.] Grand-daughters of old Karl Philip, the then Kur-Pfalz, whom he has inherited. It was the last act of that never-resting old Karl Philip, of whom we used to hear so much: "Karl Theodor to have one of my inestimable Grand-daughters; Duke Clement, younger Brother of our blessed new Kaiser, to have another; thereby we unite the kindred branches of the Pfalz-Baiern Families, and make the assurance of the Heritages doubly sure!" said old Karl Philip; and died happy, or the happiest he could.
Readers no doubt have forgotten this circumstance; and, in their total lack of interest in Karl Theodor and his paltry affairs, may as well be reminded of it;—and furthermore, that these brilliant young Wives, "Duchess Clement" especially, called on Wilhelmina during the Frankfurt Gayeties, and were a charm to Kaiser Karl Albert, striving to look forward across clouds into a glittering future for his House. Theodor's Princess brought him no children; she and her Sister are both still living; a lone woman the latter (Duke Clement dead these seven years),—a still more lone the former, with such a Husband yet living! Lone women both, well forward in the fifties; active souls, I should guess, at least to judge by Duchess Clement, who being a Dowager, and mistress of her movements, is emphatic in denouncing such disaster and disgrace; and plays a great part, at Munchen, in the agitating scenes now on hand. Comes out "like a noble Amazon," say the admiring by-standers, on this occasion; stirs whatever faculty she has, especially her tongue; and goes on urging, pushing and contriving all she can, regardless of risks in such an imminency.
Karl Theodor finds his Heritages indisputable; but he has no Legitimate Son to leave them to; and has many Illegitimate, whom Austria can provide for,—and richly will. His Heir is a Nephew, Karl August Christian, of Zweibruck; whom perhaps it would not be painful to him to disappoint a little of his high expectations. On the whole, Peace; plentiful provision, titular and other, for his Illegitimates; and a comfortable sum of ready money over, to enliven the Theatricals, Dusseldorf Picture-Galleries and Dilettante operations and Collections,—how much welcomer to Theodor than a Baiern never so religiously saved entire at the expense of quarrel, which cannot but be tedious, troublesome and dangerous! Honor, indeed—but what, to an old stager in the dilettante line, is honor? Old stagers there are who will own to you, like Balzac's Englishman in a case of conflagration, when honor called on all men to take their buckets, "MAIS JE N'AI POINT D'HONNEUR!" To whom, unluckily, you cannot answer as in that case, "C'EST EGAL, 'T is all one; do as if you had some!" Karl Theodor scandalously left Baiern to its fate.
Karl Theodor's Heir, poor August Christian of Zweibruck, had of course his own gloomy thoughts on this parcelling of his Bavarian reversion: but what power has he? None, he thinks, but to take the inevitable patiently. Nor generally in the Princes of the Reich, though one would have thought them personally concerned, were it only for danger of a like mistreatment, was there any emotion publicly expressed, or the least hope of help. "Perhaps Prussia will quarrel about it?" think they: "Austria, Prussia, in any of their quarrels we get only crushed; better to keep out of it. We well out of it, the more they quarrel and fight, the better for us!" England, in the shape of Hanover, would perhaps have made some effort to interfere, provided France did: on either side, I incline to think,—that is to say, on the side opposite to France. But poor England is engaged with its melancholy American War; France on the point of breaking out into Alliance with the Insurrection there. Neither France nor England did interfere. France is sinking into bankruptcy; intent to have a Navy before most things; to assist the Cause of Human Liberty over seas withal, and become a sublime spectacle, and a ruin to England,—not as in the Pitt-Choiseul time, but by that improved method. Russia, again involved in Turk business, looks on, with now and then a big word thrown out on the one side and the other.—Munchen, in the interval, we can fancy what an agitated City! One Note says:—
"Kurfurst Max Joseph being dead (30th December, 1777), Privy Councillor Johann Euchar von Obermayr, favorite and factotum Minister of the Deceased, opened the Chatoulle [Princely Safe, or Case of Preciosities]; took from it the Act, which already lay prepared, for Homaging and solemn Instalment of Karl Theodor Kur-Pfalz, as heir of Baiern; with immediate intent to execute the same. Euchar orders strict closure of the Town-gates; the Soldiery to draw out, and beset all streets,—especially that street where Imperial Majesty's Ambassador lives: 'Rank close with your backs to that House,' orders Euchar; 'and the instant anybody stirs to come out, sound your drums, and, at the same instant, let the rearmost rank of you, without looking round [for one would not give offence, unless imperative] smite the butts of their muskets to the ground' (ready for firing, IF imperative). Nobody, I think, stirred out from that Austrian Excellency's House; in any case, Obermayr completed his Act without the least protest or trouble from anybody; and Karl Theodor, almost to his terror [for he meant to sell, and satisfy Austria, by no means to resist or fight, the paltry old creature, careful of self and skin only], saw himself solemnly secured by all forms of law in all the Lands of the Deceased. [Fischer, Geschichte Friedrichs des Zweiten (Halle, 1787), ii. 358.]
"Kaiser Joseph, in a fume at this, shot off an express to Bohemia: 'Such and such regiments, ten or twelve of you, with your artillery and tools, march instantly into Straubingen, and occupy that Town and District.' At Vienna, to the Karl-Theodor Ambassador, the Kaunitz Officials were altogether loud-voiced, minatory: 'What is this, Herr Excellenz? Bargain already made; lying ready for mere signature; and at Munchen such doings. Sign this Bargain, or there cross your frontier 60,000 Austrian men, and seize both Baiern and the Ober-Pfalz; bethink you, Herr!' The poor Herr bethought him, what could he do? signed the Bargain, Karl Theodor sanctioning, 3d January, 1778,—the fourth day after Obermayr's Homaging feat;—and completes the first act of this bad business. The Bargain, on Theodor's side, was of the most liberal kind: All and sundry the Lands and Circles of Duke Johann of Straubingen, Lordship of Mindelheim [Marlborough's old Place] superadded, and I know not what else; Sovereignty of the Fiefs in Ober-Pfalz to lapse to the Crown of Bohmen on my decease." Half Bavaria, or better; some reckon it as good as two-thirds.
The figure of Duchess Clement, Amazon in hair-powder, driviug incessantly about among the officialities and aristocratic circles; this and the order of "Rattle your muskets on the ground;" let these two features represent to us the Munchen of those months. Munchen, Regensburg, Vienna are loud with pleading, protocolling; but it is not there that the crisis of the game will be found to lie.
Friedrich has, for some time back, especially since the late Kur-Baiern's illness, understood that Austria, always eager for a clutch at Baiern, had something of that kind in view; but his first positive news of it was a Letter from Duchess Clement (date, JANUARY 3d), which, by the detail of facts, unveiled to his quick eye the true outline, extent and nature of this Enterprise of Austria's; Enterprise which, he could not but agree with Duchess Clement, was one of great concernment not to Baiern alone. "Must be withstood; prevented, at whatever risk," thought Friedrich on the instant: "The new Elector, Karl Theodor, he probably is dead to the matter; but one ought to ask him. If he answer, Dead; then ask his Heir, Have you no life to it?" Heir is a gallant enough young gentleman, of endless pedigree, but small possessions, "Karl August Christian [Karl II. in Official style], Duke of Zweibruck-Birkenfeld," Karl Theodor's eldest Nephew; Friedrich judges that he probably will have haggled to sign any Austrian convention for dismembering Baiern, and that he will start into life upon it so soon as he sees hope.
"A messenger to him, to Karl Theodor and him," thinks Friedrich: "a messenger instantly; and who?" For that clearly is the first thing. And a delicate thing it is; requiring to be done in profoundest secrecy, by hint and innuendo rather than speech; by somebody in a cloak of darkness, who is of adroit quality, and was never heard of in diplomatic circles before, not to be suspected of having business of mine on hand. Friedrich bethinks him that in a late visit to Weimar, he had noticed, for his fine qualities, a young gentleman named Gortz; Eustace von Gortz, [Preuss, iv. 92 n. &c.] late Tutor to the young Duke (Karl August, whom readers know as Goethe's friend): a wise, firm, adroit-looking young gentleman; who was farther interesting as Brother to Lieutenant-General von Gortz, a respectable soldier of Friedrich's. Ex-Tutor at Weimar, we say, and idle for the moment; hanging about Court there, till he should find a new function.
Of this Ex-Tutor Friedrich bethinks him; and in the course of that same day,—for there is no delay,—Friedrich, who is at Berlin, beckons General Gortz to come over to him from Potsdam instantly. "Hither this evening; and in all privacy meet me in the Palace at such an hour" (hour of midnight or thereby); which of course Gortz, duly invisible to mankind, does. Friedrich explains: An errand to Munchen; perfectly secret, for the moment, and requiring great delicacy and address; perhaps not without risk, a timorous man might say: will your Brother go for me, think you? Gortz thinks he will. "Here is his Instruction, if so," adds the King, handing him an Autograph of the necessary outline of procedure,—not signed, nor with any credential, or even specific address, lest accident happen. "Adieu then, Herr General-Lieutenant; rule is, shoes of swiftness, cloak of darkness: adieu!" And Gortz Senior is off on the instant, careering towards Weimar, where he finds Gortz Junior, and makes known his errand. Gortz Junior stares in the natural astonishment; but, after some intense brief deliberation, becomes affirmative, and in a minimum of time is ready and on the road.
Gortz Junior proved to have been an excellent choice on the King's part; and came to good promotion afterwards by his conduct in this affair. Gortz Junior started for Munchen on the instant, masked utterly, or his business masked, from profane eyes; saw this person, saw that, and glided swiftly about, swiftly and with sure aim; and speedily kindled the matter, and had smoke rising in various points. And before January was out, saw the Reichs-Diet at Regensburg, much more the general Gazetteerage everywhere, seized of this affair, and thrown into paroxysms at the size and complexion of it: saw, in fact, a world getting into flame,—kindled by whom or what nobody could guess, for a long time to come. Gortz had great running about in his cloak of darkness, and showed abundant talent of the kind needed. A pushing, clear-eyed, stout-hearted man; much cleverness and sureness in what he did and forbore to do. His adventures were manifold; he had much travelling about: was at Regensburg, at Mannheim; saw many persons whom he had to judge of on the instant, and speak frankly to, or speak darkly, or speak nothing; and he made no mistake. One of his best counsellors, I gather, was Duchess Clement: of course it was not long till Duchess Clement heard some inkling of him; till, in some of his goings and comings, he saw Duchess Clement, who hailed him as an angel of light. In one journey more mysterious than ever, "he was three days invisible in Duchess Clement's Garden-house." "AH, MADAME, QUE N'ETIEZ-VOUS ELECTEUR, Why were not you Elector!" writes Friedrich to her once: "We should not have seen those shameful events, which every good German must blush for, to the bottom of his heart (DONT TOUT BON ALLEMAND DOIT ROUGIR JUSQU'AU FOND DU COEUR)!" [Preuss, iv. 94.]
We cannot afford the least narrative of Gortz and his courses: imagination, from a few traits, will sufficiently conceive them. He had gone first to Karl Theodor's Minister: "Dead to it, I fear; has already signed?" Alas, yes. Upon which to Zweibruck the Heir's Minister; whom his Master had distinctly ordered to sign, but who, at his own peril, gallant man, delayed, remonstrated, had not yet done it; and was able to answer: "Alive to it, he? Yes, with a witness, were there hope in the world!"—which threw Gortz upon instant gallop towards Zweibruck Schloss, in search of said Heir, the young Duke August Christian; who, however, had left in the interim (summoned by his Uncle, on Austrian urgency, to consent along with him); but whom Gortz, by dexterity and intuition of symptoms, caught up by the road, with what a mutual joy! As had been expected, August Christian, on sight of Gortz, with an armed Friedrich looming in the distance, took at once into new courses and activities. From him, no consent now; far other: Treaty with Friedrich; flat refusal ever to consent: application to the Reich, application even to France, and whatever a gallant young fellow could do.
It was by Friedrich's order that he applied to France; his younger Brother, Max Joseph, was a soldier there, and strove to back him in Official and other circles,—who were all friendly, even zealous for him; and gave good words, but had nothing more. This French department of the business was long a delay to Friedrich's operations: and in result, poor Max's industry there, do what he could, proved rather a minus quantity than otherwise. A good young man, they say; but not the man to kindle into action horses that are dead,—of which he had experience more than once in time coming. He is the same that, 30 years after, having survived his childless elder Brother, became King Max, first King of Baiern; begot Ludwig, second King,—who, for his part, has begotten Otho King of Greece, and done other feats still less worth mentioning. August Christian's behavior is praised as excellent,—passively firm and polite; the grand requisite, persistence on your ground of "No:"—but his luck, to find such a Friedrich, and also to find such a Gortz, was the saving clause for him.
Friedrich was in very weak health in these months; still considered by the Gazetteers to be dying. But it appears he is not yet too weak for taking, on the instant necessary, a world-important resolution; and of being on the road with it, to this issue or to that, at full speed before the day closed. "Desist, good neighbor, I beseech you. You must desist, and even you shall:" this resolution was entirely his own; as were the equally prompt arrangements he contrived for executing it, should hard come to hard, and Austria prefer war to doing justice. "Excellent methods," say the most unfriendly judges, "which must at once have throttled Austria into compliance, had he been as prompt in executing them;—which he by no means was. And there lies his error and failure; very lamentable, excusable only by decrepitude of body producing weakness and decay of mind." This is emphatically and wearisomely Schmettau's opinion, [F. W. C. Graf van Schmettau (this is the ELDER Schmettau's Son, not the DRESDENER'S whom we used to quote), FELDZUG DER PREUSSISCHEN ARMEE IN BOHMEN IM JAHRE 1778 (Berlin, 1789,—simultaneously in French too, with Plans): with which—as the completest Account by an eager Witness and Participator—compare always Friedrich's own (MEMOIRES DE LA GUERRE DE 1778), in OEuvres de Frederic, vi. 135-208. Schoning (vol. iv.), besides his own loose Narrative, or Summary, has given all the CORRESPONDENCE between Henri and the King:—sufficient to quench the sharpest appetite on this subject.] who looks at it only as a military Adjutant, intent on honor and rapid feats of war,—with how much reason, readers not Prussian or military shall judge as we go on.
Saxony, we ought to mention, was also aggrieved. The Dowager-Electress Maria Antoinette, our sprightly friend, had, as sole surviving Sister of the late Kurfurst Max, the undoubted heirship of Kurfurst Max's "allodial properties and territories:" territories, I think, mainly in the Ober-Pfalz (which are NOT Bavaria Proper, but were acquired in the Thirty-Years War), which are important in value, and which Austria, regardless of our lively friend, has laid hold of as lapsed fiefs of Bohemia. Clearly Bohemian, says Austria; and keeps hold. Our lively friend hereupon makes over all her rights in that matter to her Son, the reigning Elector; with the counsel, if counsel were needed, "Ask protection of King Friedrich; go wholly with King Friedrich." Mecklenburg too has an interest. Among the lapsed fiefs is one to a Duchy called of Leuchtenberg;—in regard to which, says Mecklenburg, as loud as it can, "That Duchy is not lapsed at all; that is now mine, witness this Document" (of a valid testamentary nature)! Other claims were put in; but these three: Zweibruck endlessly important; Saxony important too, though not in such degree; Mecklenburg unimportant, but just,—were alone recognized in impartial quarters as authentic and worthy of notice.
Of the pleadings and procedures in the Reichs Diet no reader would permit me to speak, were I inclined. Enough to understand that they went on in the usual voluminous dull-droning way, crescendo always; and deserve, what at present they are sure of, oblivion from all creatures. The important thing was, not those pleadings in the Reichs Diet, nor the Austrian proposals there or elsewhere; but the brandishing of arms in emitting and also in successively answering the same. Answer always No by Friedrich, and some new flash of handled arms,—the physiognomy of which was the one significant point, Austria, which is far from ready with arms, though at each fresh pleading or proposal it tries to give a kind of brandish, says mainly three things, in essence somewhat thus. AUSTRIA: "Cannot two States of the Reich come to a mutual understanding, as Austria and Bavaria have done? And what have third parties to say to it?" FRIEDRICH: "Much! Parties of the Reich have much to say to it!" (This several times with variations.) AUSTRIA: "Our rights seem to us valid: Zweibruck, Saxony, Mecklenburg, if aggrieved, can try in the Reichs Law-Courts." FRIEDRICH: "Law-Courts!" with a new brandish; that is, sets more regiments on march, from Pommern to Wesel all on march, to Berlin, to Silesia, towards the Bohemian Frontier. AUSTRIA, by the voice of Kaunitz: "We will not give up our rights without sentence of Law. We cannot recognize the King of Prussia as Law-Judge in this matter." FRIEDRICH: "The King of Prussia is of the Jury!"
Pulse after pulse, this is something like the course things had, crescendo till, in about three months, they got to a height which was evidently serious. Nay, in the course of the pleadings it became manifest that on the Austrian grounds of claim, not Maria Theresa could be heir to Straubingen, but Friedrich himself: "I descend from Three-Crown Albert's Daughter," said Maria Theresa. "And I from an elder Daughter of his, and do not claim!" Friedrich could have answered, but did not; treating such claim all along as merely colorable and chimerical, not worth attention in serious affairs of fact. Till, at length, after about three months, there comes a really serious brandish.
SUNDAY, APRIL 5th, 1778, at Berlin, Friedrich holds review of his Army, all assembled, equipped and in readiness; and (in that upper Parole-Room of the Schloss) makes this Speech, which, not without extraneous intention, was printed in the Newspapers:—
FRIEDRICH'S SPEECH TO HIS GENERALS. "Gentlemen, I have assembled you here for a public object. Most of you, like myself, have often been in arms along with one another, and are grown gray in the service of our Country: to all of us is well known in what dangers, toils and renown we have been fellow-sharers. I doubt not in the least that all of you, as myself, have a horror of bloodshed: but the danger which now threatens our Countries, not only renders it a duty, but puts us in the absolute necessity, to adopt the quickest and most effectual means for dissipating at the right time the storm which threatens to break out on us.
"I depend with complete confidence on your soldierly and patriotic zeal, which is already well and gloriously known to me, and which, while I live, I will acknowledge with the heartiest satisfaction. Before all things, I recommend to you, and prescribe as your most sacred duty, That, in every situation, you exercise humanity on unarmed enemies; and be continually attentive that, in this respect too, there be the strictest discipline (MANNSZUCHT) kept among those under you.
"To travel with the pomp of a King is not among my wishes: and all of you are aware that I have no pleasure in rich field-furniture: but my increasing age, and the weakness it brings, render me incapable of riding as I did in my youth. I shall, therefore, be obliged to make use of a post-chaise in times of marching; and all of you have liberty to do the same. But on the day of battle you shall see me on horseback; and there, also, I hope my Generals will follow that example."
VOLTAIRE SMOTHERED UNDER ROSES. King's Speech was on Sunday, April 5th, Evening of last Monday (March 30th), at the Theatre Francais in Paris, poor Voltaire had that world-famous apotheosis of his; and got "smothered under roses," as he termed it. He had left Ferney (such the urgency of Niece Denis and her unappeasable desire for a sight of Paris again) February 5th; arrived in Paris February 10th; ventured out to see his poor last Tragedy, not till the sixth night of it, March 30th; was beshouted, crowned, raised to the immortal gods by a repentant Paris world: "Greatest of men,—You were not a miscreant and malefactor, then: on the contrary, you were a spiritual Hercules, a heroic Son of Light; Slayer of the Nightmare Monsters, and foul Dragons and Devils that were preying on us: to you shall not we now say, Long life, with all our throats and all our hearts,"—and so quench you at last! Which they managed to do, poor repentant souls. The tottering wayworn Voltaire, over-agitated in this way, took to bed; never rose again; and on that day two months was dead. [In DUVERNET, and still better in LONGCHAMP ET WAGNIERE, ample account of these interesting occurrences.] His light all done; to King Friedrich, or to any of us, no flash of radiancy from him any more forever.
APRIL 6th, Friedrich gets on march—perhaps about 100,000 strong—for Schonwalde, in the Neisse-Schweidnitz neighborhood; and there, in the course of the week, has cantoned himself, and sits completing his magazines and appliances for actual work of war. This is a considerable brandish; and a good deal astonishes Kaunitz and the Vienna people, who have not 10,000 at present on those Frontiers, and nothing whatever in a state of readiness. "Dangerous really!" Kaunitz admits; and sets new regiments on march from Hungary, from the Netherlands, from all ends of the Earth where they are. Tempers his own insolent talk, too; but strives to persuade himself that it is "Menace merely. He won't; he abhors war." Kaunitz had hardly exaggerated Friedrich's abhorrence of war; though it turned out there were things which Friedrich abhorred still more.
Schonwalde, head-quarter of this alarming Prussian cantonment, is close on the new Fortress of Silberberg, a beautiful new impregnability, looking into those valleys of the Warta, of the young Neisse, which are the road to Bohemia or from it,—where the Pandour torrents used to issue into the first Silesian Wars; where Friedrich himself was once to have been snapped up, but was not quite,—and only sang Mass as Extempore Abbot, with Tobias Stusche, in the Monastery of Camenz, according to the myth which readers may remember. No more can Pandours issue that way; only Prussians can enter in. Friedrich's windows in the Schloss of Schonwalde,—which are on the left hand, if you be touring in those parts,—look out, direct upon Silberberg, and have its battlements between them and the 3-o'clock Sun. [Schoning, iv. (Introductory Part).] In the Town of Silberberg, Friedrich has withal a modest little lodging,—lodging still known,—where he can alight for an hour or a night, in the multifarious businesses that lead him to and fro. "A beautiful place," says Schoning; "where the King stayed twelve weeks" or more; waiting till the Bavarian-Austrian case should ripen better. At Schonwalde, what was important in his private circle, he heard of Lord Marischal's death, then of Voltaire's; not to mention that of English Pitt, and perhaps others interesting to him. [Voltaire died May 30th; Marischal, May 25th; Pitt, May 11th;—and May 4th, in the Cantonment here, died General von Rentzel, the same who, as Lieutenant Rentzel, sixty years ago, had taught the little Crown-Prince his drill (Rodenbeck, iii. 187).]
"Now was the time," cry Schmettau and the unfavorable, "when he might have walked across into Eastern Bohemia, into Mahren, whither you like; to Vienna itself, and taken Austria by the throat at discretion: 'Do justice, then, will you! Let go Bavaria, or—!' In his young years, would not he have done so? His Plan, long since laid down, was grand: To march into Mahren, leaving Silesia guarded; nay leaving Bohemia to be invaded,—for Prince Henri, and the Saxons, who are a willing handful, and will complete Henri likewise to 100,000, were to do that, feat the while;—March into Mahren, on to Vienna if he chose; laying all flat. Infallible," say the Schmettau people. "He had the fire of head to contrive it all; but worn down and grown old, he could not execute his great thoughts." Which is obviously absurd, Friedrich's object not being to lay Austria flat, or drive animosities to the sanguinary point, and kindle all Europe into war; but merely to extract, with the minimum of violence, something like justice from Austria on this Bavarian matter. For which end, he may justly consider slow pressure preferable to the cutting method. His problem is most ticklish, not allowed for by Schmettau.
The encampment round Schonwalde, especially as there was nothing ready thereabouts on the Austrian side, produced a visible and great effect on the negotiations; and notably altered the high Kaunitz tone towards Friedrich. "Must two great Courts quarrel, then, for the sake of a small one?" murmured Kaunitz, plaintively now, to himself and to the King,—to the King not in a very distinct manner, though to himself the principle is long since clear as an axiom in Politics: "Great Courts should understand one another; then the small would be less troublesome." For a quarter of a century this has been the Kaunitz faith. In 1753, when he miraculously screwed round the French into union with the Austrians to put down an upstart Prussia, this was his grand fulcrum, the immovable rock in which the great Engineer fixed down his political capstans, and levered and screwed. He did triumphantly wind matters round,—though whether they much profited him when round, may be a question.
But the same grand principle, in the later instance of partitioning Poland, has it not proved eminently triumphant, successful in all points? And, doubtless, this King of Prussia recognizes it, if made worth his while, thinks Kaunitz. In a word, Kaunitz's next utterance is wonderfully changed. The great Engineer speaks almost like a Bishop on this new text. "Let the Two Courts," says he, "put themselves each in the other's place; each think what it would want;" and in fact each, in a Christian manner, try to do as it would be done by! How touching in the mouth of a Kaunitz, with something of pathos, of plaintiveness, almost of unction in it! "There is no other method of agreeing," urges he: "War is a terrible method, disliked by both of us. Austria wishes this of Bavaria; but his Prussian Majesty's turn will come, perhaps now is (let him say and determine); we will make it worth his while." This is of APRIL 24th; notable change since the cantoning round Schonwalde.
Germany at large, though it lay so silent, in its bedrid condition, was in great anxiety. Never had the Holy Romish Reich such a shock before: "Meaning to partition us like Poland?" thought the Reich, with a shudder. "They can, by degrees, if they think good; these Two Great Sovereigns!" Courage, your Durchlauchts: one of the Two great ones has not that in his thoughts; has, and will have, the reverse of that; which will be your anchorages in the storms of fate for a long time to come! Nor was it—as will shortly appear to readers—Kaunitz's immediate intention at all: enough if poor we can begin it, set it fairly under way; let some unborn happier Kaunitz, the last of a series, complete such blessed consummation; in a happier time, far over the practical horizon at present. This we do gather to have been Kaunitz's real view; and it throws a light on the vexed Partition-of-Poland question, and gives weight to Dohm's assertion, That Kaunitz was the actual beginner there.