marched; after which the main wrestle was done in a week. January 16th,
Old Leopold got to Jagerndorf; found the actual Traun concentrated at
Jagerndorf; and drew up, to be ready for assault to-morrow morning,--had
not Traun, candidly computing, judged it better to glide wholly away in
the night-time, diligently towards Mahren, breaking the bridges behind
him. And so, in effect, to give up the Silesian Invasion for this time.
After which, though there remained a good deal of rough tussling with
Pandour details, and some rugged exploits of fight, there is--except
that of Lehwald in clearing of Glatz--nothing farther that we can afford
to speak of. Lehwald's exploit, Lehwald VERSUS Wallis (same Wallis who
defended Glogau long since), which came to be talked of, and got name
and date, 'Action of Habelschwert, February 14th,' something almost like
a pitched fight on the small scale, is to the following effect:--

"PLOMNITZ, NEAR HABELSCHWERT, 14th FEBRUARY, 1745. Old General Lehwald,
marching in the hollow ground near Habelschwert (hollow of the young
Neisse River, twenty miles south of Glatz), with intent to cut that
Country free; the Enemy, whom he is in search of, appears in great
force,--posted on the uphill ground ahead, half-frozen difficult stream
in front of them, cannon on flank, Pandour multitude in woods; all
things betokening inexpugnability on the part of the Enemy. So that
Lehwald has to take his measures; study well where the vital point is,
the root of that extensive Austrian junglery, and cut in upon the same.
By considerable fire of effort, the uphill ground, half-frozen stream,
sylvan Pandours, cannon-batteries, and what inexpugnabilities there may
be, are subdued; Austrian wide junglery, the root of it slit asunder
rolls homeward simultaneously, not too fast: nay it halted, and
re-ranked itself twice over, finding woods and quaggy runlets to its
mind; but was always slit out again, disrooted, and finally tumbled
home, having had enough. 'Wenzel Wallis,' Friedrich asserts with due
scorn, 'was all this while in a Chapel; praying ardently,' to St.
Vitus, or one knows not whom; 'without effect; till they shouted to him,
"Beaten, Sir! Off, or you are lost!" upon which he sprang to saddle, and
spurred with both heels (PIQUA DES DEUX).' [ _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iii.
79. 80.] That was the feat of Lehwald, clearing the Glatz Country with
one good cut: a skilful Captain; now getting decidedly oldish, close on
sixty; whom we shall meet again a dozen years hence, still in harness.

"The old Serene Highness himself, face the color of gun-powder, and
bluer in the winter frost, went rushing far and wide in an open vehicle,
which he called his 'cart;' pushing out detachments, supervising
everything; wheeling hither and thither as needful; sweeping out the
Pandour world, and keeping it out: not much of fighting needed, but 'a
great deal of marching [murmurs Friedrich], which in winter is as bad,
and wears down the force of the battalions.' Of all which we give no
detail: sufficient to fancy, in this manner, the Old Dessauer flapping
his wide military wings in the faces of the Pandour hordes, with here
and there a hard twitch from beak or claws; tolerably keeping down the
Pandour interest all Winter. His sons, Leopold and Dietrich, were under
him, occasionally beside him; the Junior Leopold so worn down with
feverish gout he could hardly sit on horseback at all, while old
Papa went tearing about in his cart at that rate." [_Unternehmung in
Ober-Schlesien, unter dem Fursten Leopold von Anhalt-Dessau, im Januar
und Februar,_ 1745 (Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 141-152); Stenzel, iv. 232;
&c.]

There was, on the 21st of February, TE-DEUM sung in the churches of
Berlin "for the Deliverance of Silesia from Invasion." Not that even
yet the Pandours would be quite quiet, or allow Old Leopold to quit his
cart; far from it. And they returned in such increased and
tempestuous state, as will again require mention, with the earliest
Spring:--precursors to a second, far more serious and deadly "Invasion
of Silesia;" for which it hangs yet on the balance whether there will be
a TE-DEUM or a MISERERE to sing!

Hungarian Majesty, disappointed of Silesia,--which, it seems, is not to
be had "all at once (EHESTENS)," in the form of miracle,--makes amends
by a rush upon Seckendorf and Bavaria; attacks Seckendorf furiously
("Bathyani pressing up the Donau Valley, with Browne on one hand, and
Barenklau on the other") in midwinter; and makes a terrible hand of him;
reducing his "Reconquest of Bavaria" to nothing again, nay to less. Of
which in due time.

THE FRENCH FULLY INTEND TO BEHAVE BETTER NEXT SEASON TO FRIEDRICH AND
THEIR GERMAN ALLIES;--BUT ARE PREVENTED BY VARIOUS ACCIDENTS (November,
1744-April, 1745; April-August, 1745).

It is not divine miracle, Friedrich knows well, that has lost him his
late Bohemian Conquests without battle fought: it was rash choosing of
a plan inexecutable without French co-operation,--culpable blindness to
the chance that France would break its promises, and not co-operate. Had
your Majesty forgotten the Joint-Stock Principle, then? His Majesty has
sorrowful cause to remember it, from this time, on a still larger scale!

Reflections, indignant or exculpatory, on the conduct of the French in
this Business are useless to Friedrich, and to us. The performance, on
their part, has been nearly the worst;--though their intentions,
while the Austrian Dragon had them by the throat, were doubtless
enthusiastically good! But, the big Austrian Dragon being jerked away
from Elsass, by Friedrich's treading on his tail, 500 miles off, they
were charmed, quite into new enthusiasm, to be rid of said Dragon: and,
instead of chasing HIM according to bargain, took to destroying his DEN,
that he might be harmless thenceforth. Freyburg is a captured Town, to
the joy and glory of admiring France; and Friedrich's Campaign has gone
the road we see! The Freyburg Illuminations having burnt out,
there might rise, in the triumphant mind, some thought of Friedrich
again,--perhaps almost of a remorseful nature? Certain it is, the French
intentions are now again magnanimous, more so than ever; coupled now
with some attempts at fulfilment, too; which obliges us to mention them
here. They were still a matter of important hope to Friedrich; hope
which did not quite go out till August coming. Though, alas, it did then
go out, in gusts of indignation on Friedrich's part! And as the whole of
these magnanimous French intentions, latter like former, again came to
zero, we are interested only in rendering them conceivable to readers
for Friedrich's sake,--with the more brevity, the better for everybody.
Two grand French Attempts there were; listen, on the threshold, a
little:--

... "It is certain the French intend gloriously; regardless of expense.
They are dismantling Freyburg, to render it harmless henceforth. But,
withal, in answer to the poor Kaiser's shrieks, they have sent Segur
[our old Linz friend], with 12,000, to assist Seckendorf; 'the
bravest troops in the world,'"--who did bravely take one beating (at
Pfaffenhofen, as will be seen), and go home again. ("They have Coigny
guarding those fine Brisgau Conquests. And are furthermore diplomatizing
diligently, not to say truculently, in the Rhine Countries; bullying
poor little fat Kur-Trier, lean Kur-Koln and others, 'To join the
Frankfurt Union' not one of whom would, under menace),--though 'it
is the clear duty of all Reich's-Princes with a Kaiser under
oppression:'--and have marched Maillebois, directly after Freyburg, into
the Middle-Rhine Countries, to Koln Country, to Mainz Country, and to
and fro, in support of said compulsory diplomacies;--but without the
least effect."

To the "Middle-Rhine Countries," observe, and under Maillebois, then
under Conti, little matter under whom: only let readers recollect the
name of it;--for it is the FIRST of the French Attempts to do something
of a joint-stock nature; something for self AND Allies, instead of for
self only. It caused great alarm in those months, to Britannic George
and others; and brought out poor Duc d'Ahremberg with portions (no
English included) of the poor Pragmatic Army, to go marching about in
the winter slushes, instead of resting in bed, [Adelung, iv. 276, 420
("December, 1744-June, 1745").]--and is indeed a very loud business in
the old Gazettes and books, till August coming. Business which almost
broke poor D'Ahremberg's heart, he says, "till once I got out of
it" (was TURNED out, in fact): Business of Pragmatic Army, under
D'Ahremberg, VERSUS Middle-Rhine Army under Maillebois, under Conti;
Business now wholly of Zero VERSUS Zero to us,--except for a few dates
and reflex glimmerings upon King Friedrich. Result otherwise--We shall
see the Result!

"Attempt SECOND was still more important to Friedrich; being directed
upon the Kaiser and Bavaria. Belleisle is to go thither and take survey;
Belleisle thither first: you may judge if the intention is sincere!
Valori is quite eloquent upon it. Directly after Freyburg, says he,
Sechelles, that first of Commissaries, was sent to Munchen. Sechelles
cleared up the chaos of Accounts; which King Louis then instantly
paid. 'Your Imperial Majesty shall have Magazines also,' said Louis,
regardless of expense; 'and your Army, with auxiliaries (Segur and
25,000 of them French), shall be raised to 60,000.' Belleisle then came:
'We will have Ingolstadt, the first thing, in Spring.' Alas, Belleisle
had his Accident in the Harz; and all went aback, from that time."
[Valori, i. 322-329.] Aback, too indisputably, all!--"And Belleisle's
Accident?" Patience, readers.

"The truth is, Attempt SECOND, and chief, broke down at once [Bathyani
beating it to pieces, as will be seen],--the ruins of it painfully
reacting on Attempt FIRST; which had the like fate some months
later;--and there was no THIRD made. And, in fact, from the date of that
latter down-break, August, or end of July, 1745 [and quite especially
from "September 13th," by which time several irrevocable things had
happened, which we shall hear of], the French withdrew altogether out of
German entanglements; and concentrated themselves upon the Netherlands,
there to demolish his Britannic Majesty, as the likelier enterprise.
This was a course to which, ever since the Exit of Broglio and the
Oriflamme, they had been more and more tending and inclining, 'Nothing
for us but loss on loss, to be had in Germany!' and so they at last
frankly gave up that bad Country. They fought well in the Netherlands,
with great splendor of success, under Saxe VERSUS Cumberland and
Company. They did also some successful work in Italy;--and left
Friedrich to bear the brunt in Germany; too glad if he or another
were there to take Germany off their hand! Friedrich's feelings on his
arriving at this consummation, and during his gradual advance towards
it, which was pretty steady all along from those first 'drenched-hen
(POULES MOUILLEES)' procedures, were amply known to Excellency Valori,
and may be conceived by readers,"--who are slightly interested in the
dates of them at farthest. And now for the Belleisle Accident, with
these faint preliminary lights.

STRANGE ACCIDENT TO MARECHAL DE BELLEISLE IN THE HARZ MOUNTAINS (20th
December, 1744).

Siege of Freyburg being completed, and the River and most other things
(except always the bastions, which we blow up) being let into their old
channels there, Marechal de Belleisle, who is to have a chief management
henceforth,--the Most Christian King recognizing him again as his ablest
man in war or peace,--sets forth on a long tour of supervision, of
diplomacy and general arrangement, to prepare matters for the next
Campaign. Need enough of a Belleisle: what a business we have made of
it, since Friedrich trod on the serpent's tail for us.! Nothing but
our own Freyburg to show for ourselves; elsewhere, mere down-rush of
everything whitherward it liked;--and King Friedrich got into such a
humor! Friedrich must be put in tune again; something real and good to
be agreed on at Berlin: let that be the last thing, crown of the whole.
The first thing is, look into Bavaria a little; and how the Kaiser,
poor gentleman, in want of all requisites but good-will, can be put into
something of fighting posture.

"In the end of November, Marechal Duc de Belleisle, with his Brother the
Chevalier (now properly the Count, there having been promotions), and
a great retinue more, alights at Munchen; holds counsel with the poor
Kaiser for certain days:--Money wanted; many things wanted; and all
things, we need not doubt, much fallen out of square. 'Those Seckendorf
troops in their winter-quarters,' say our French Inspectors and Segur
people, as usual, 'do but look on it, your Excellency! Scattered, along
the valleys, into the very edge of Austria; Austria will swallow them,
the first thing, next year; they will never rendezvous again except in
the Austrian prisons. Surely, Monseigneur, only a man ignorant of war,
or with treasonous intention [or ill-off for victuals],--could post
troops in that way? Seckendorf is not ignorant of war!' say they.
[Valori, i. 206.] For, in fact, suspicion runs high; and there is no end
to the accusations just and unjust; and Seckendorf is as ill treated as
any of us could wish. Poor old soul. Probably nobody in all the Earth,
but his old Wife in the Schloss of Altenburg, has any pity for him,--if
even she, which I hope. He has fought and diplomatized and intrigued
in many countries, very much; and in his old days is hard bested.
Monseigueur, whose part is rather that of Jove the Cloud-compeller,
is studious to be himself noiseless amid this noise; and makes no
alteration in the Seckendorf troops; but it is certain he meant to do
it, thinks Valori."

And indeed Seckendorf, tired of the Bavarian bed-of-roses, had privately
fixed with himself to quit the same;--and does so, inexorable to the
very Kaiser, on New-Year arriving. [_Seckendorfs Leben,_ p. 365.]
Succeeded by Thorring (our old friend DRUM Thorring), if that be an
improvement. Marechal de Belleisle has still a long journey ahead,
and infinitely harder problems than these,--assuagement of the King of
Prussia, for example. Let us follow his remarkable steps.

"WEDNESDAY, 9th DECEMBER, 1744, the Marechal leaves Munchen,
northwards through OEttingen and the Bamberg-Anspach regions towards
Cassel;--journey of some three hundred and fifty miles: with a great
retinue of his own; with an escort of two hundred horse from the Kaiser;
these latter to prevent any outfall or insult in the Ingolstadt quarter,
where the Austrians have a garrison, not at all very tightly blocked by
the Seckendorf people thereabouts. No insult or outfall occurring, the
Marechal dismisses his escort at OEttingen; fares forward in his twenty
coaches and fourgons, some score or so of vehicles:--mere neutral
Imperial Countries henceforth, where the Kaiser's Agent, as Marechal
de Belleisle can style himself, and Titular Prince of the German Empire
withal, has only to pay his way. By Donauworth, by OEttingen; over
the Donau acclivities, then down the pleasant Valley of the Mayn. [See
REVIEW OF THE CASE OF MARSHAL BELLEISLE (or Abstract of it, _Gentleman's
Magazine,_ 1745, pp. 366-373); &c. &c.]

"SUNDAY, 13th DECEMBER, Marechal de Belleisle arrives at Hanau [where
we have seen Conferences held before now, and Carteret, Prince Karl and
great George our King very busy], there to confer with Marshals Coigny,
Maillebois and other high men, Commanders in those Rhine parts. Who
all come accordingly, except Marechal Maillebois, who is sorry that he
absolutely cannot; but will surely do himself the honor as Monseigneur
returns." As Monseigneur returns! "And so, on Monday, 14th, Monseigneur
starts for Cassel; say a hundred miles right north; where we shall meet
Prince Wilhelm of Hessen-Cassel, a zealous Ally; inform him how his
Troops, under Seckendorf, are posted [at Vilshofen yonder; hiding how
perilous their post is, or promising alterations]; perhaps rest a day or
two, consulting as to the common weal: How the King of Prussia takes
our treatment of him? How to smooth the King of Prussia, and turn him
to harmony again? We are approaching the true nodus of our business,
difficulty of difficulties; and Wilhelm, the wise Landgraf, may afford
a hint or two. Thus travels magnanimous Belleisle in twenty vehicles, a
man loaded with weighty matters, in these deep Winter months; suffering
dreadfully from rheumatic neuralgic ailments, a Doctor one of his
needfulest equipments; and has the hardest problem yet ahead of him.

"Prince Wilhelm's consultations are happily lost altogether; buried from
sight forever, to the last hint,--all except as to what road to Berlin
would be the best from Cassel. By Leipzig, through low-lying country, is
the great Highway, advisable in winter; but it runs a hundred and thirty
miles to right, before ever starting northward; such a roundabout. Not
to say that the Saxons are allies of Austria,--if there be anything in
that. Enemies, they, to the Most Christian King: though surely, again,
we are on Kaiser's business, nay we are titular 'Prince of the Reich,'
for that matter, such the Kaiser's grace to us? Well; it is better
perhaps to AVOID the Saxon Territory. And, of course, the Hanoverian
much more; through which lies the other Great Road! 'Go by the Harz,'
advises Landgraf Wilhelm: 'a rugged Hill Country; but it is your
hypotenuse towards Berlin; passes at once, or nearly so, from Cassel
Territory into Prussian: a rugged road, but a shorter and safer.' That
is the road Belleisle resolves upon. Twenty carriages; his Brother the
Chevalier and himself occupy one; and always the courier rides before,
ordering forty post-horses to be ready harnessed.

"SUNDAY, 20th DECEMBER, 1744. In this way they have climbed the eastern
shin of the Harz Range, where the Harz is capable of wheel-carriages;
and hope now to descend, this night, to Halberstadt; and thence rapidly
by level roads to Berlin. It is sinking towards dark; the courier is
forward to Elbingerode, ordering forty horses to be out. Roughish
uphill road; winter in the sky and earth, winter vapors and tumbling
wind-gusts: westward, in torn storm-cloak, the Bracken, with its
witch-dances; highland Goslar, and ghost of Henry the Fowler, on the
other side of it. A multifarious wizard Country, much overhung by goblin
reminiscences, witch-dances, sorcerers'-sabbaths and the like,--if a
rheumatic gentleman cared to look on it, in the cold twilight. Brrh!
Waste chasmy uplands, snow-choked torrents; wild people, gloomy firs!
Here at last, by one's watch 5 P.M., is Elbingerode, uncomfortable
little Town; and it is to be hoped the forty post-horses are ready.

"Behold, while the forty post-horses are getting ready, a thing takes
place, most unexpected;--which made the name of Elbingerode famous for
eight months to come. Of which let us hastily give the bare facts,
Fancy making of them what she can. Was Monseigneur aware that this
Elbingerode, with a patch of territory round it, is Hanoverian ground;
one of those distracted patches or ragged outskirts frequent in the
German map? Prussia is not yet, and Hessen-Cassel has ceased to be.
Undoubtedly Hanoverian! Apparently the Landgraf and Monseigneur had not
thought of that. But Munchhausen of Hanover, spies informing him,
had. The Bailiff (Vogt, AdVOCATus) has gathered twenty JAGER [official
Game-keepers] with their guns, and a select idle Sunday population of
the place with or without guns: the Vogt steps forward, and inquires for
Monseigneur's passport. 'No passport, no need of any!'--'Pardon!' and
signifies to Monseigneur, on the part of George Elector of Hanover, King
of Great Britain, France and Ireland, that Monseigneur is arrested!

"Monseigneur, with compressed or incompressible feelings, indignantly
complies,--what could he else, unfortunate rheumatic gentleman?--and is
plucked away in such sudden manner, he for one, out of that big German
game of his raising. The twenty vehicles are dragged different roads;
towards Scharzfels, Osterode, or I know not where,--handiest roads to
Hanover;--and Monseigneur himself has travelling treatment which might
be complained of, did not one disdain complaint: 'my Brother parted from
me, nay my Doctor, and my Interpreter;'"--not even speech possible to
me. [Letter of Belleisle next morning, "Neuhof, 21st December, 9 A.M."
(in _Valori,_ i. 204), to Munchhausen at Hanover,--by no possibility
"to Valori," as the distracted French Editor has given it!] That was the
Belleisle Accident in the Harz, Sunday Evening, 20th December, 1744.

"Afflicted indignant Valori, soon enough apprised, runs to Friedrich
with the news,--greets Friedrich with it just alighting from that
Silesian run of his own. Friedrich, not without several other things to
think of, is naturally sorry at such news; sorry for his own sake even;
but not overmuch. Friedrich refuses 'to despatch a party of horse,' and
cut out Marechal de Belleisle. "That will never do, MON CHER!'--and even
gets into FROIDES PLAISANTERIES: 'Perhaps the Marechal did it
himself? Tallard, prisoner after Blenheim, made PEACE, you know, in
England?'--and the like; which grieved the soul of Valori, and convinced
him of Friedrich's inhumanity, in a crying case.

"Belleisle is lugged on to Hanover; his case not doubtful to
Munchhausen, or the English Ministry,--though it raised great argument,
(was the capture fair, was it unfair? Is he entitled to exchange by
cartel, or not entitled?' and produced, in the next eight months, much
angry animated pamphleteering and negotiation. For we hear by and by,
he is to be forwarded to Stade, on the Hamburg sea-coast, where English
Seventy-fours are waiting for him; his case still undecided;--and,
in effect, it was not till after eight months that he got dismissal.
'Lodged handsomely in Windsor Palace,' in the interim; free on his
parole, people of rank very civil to him, though the Gazetteers were
sometimes ill-tongued,--had he understood their PATOIS, or concerned
himself about such things

["TUESDAY, 18th FEBRUARY [1st March, 1745], Marshal Belleisle landed at
Harwich; lay at Greenwich Palace, having crossed Thames at the Isle of
Dogs: next morning, about 10, set out, in a coach-and-six, Colonel
Douglas and two troops of horse escorting; arrived 3 P.M.,--by
Camberwell, Clapham, Wandsworth, over Kingston and Staines Bridges,--at
Windsor Castle, and the apartments ready for him." (_Gentleman's
Magazine,_ 1745, p 107.) Was let go 13th (24th) August, again with great
pomp and civilities (ib. p. 442). See Adelung, iv. 299, 346; v. 83, 84.]

"It was a current notion among contemporary mankind, this of Friedrich,
that Belleisle's capture might be a mere collusion, meant to bring about
a Peace in that Tallard fashion,--wide of the truth as such a notion
is, far as any Peace was from following. To Britannic George and his
Hanoverians it had merely seemed, Here was a chief War-Captain and
Diplomatist among the French; the pivot of all these world-wide
movements, as Valori defines him; which pivot, a chance offering, it
were well to twitch from its socket, and see what would follow. Perhaps
nothing will follow; next to nothing? A world, all waltzing in mad war,
is not to be stopped by acting on any pivot; your waltzing world will
find new pivots, or do without any, and perhaps only waltz the more
madly for wanting the principal one."

This withdrawal of Belleisle, the one Frenchman respected by Friedrich,
or much interested for his own sake in things German, is reckoned a main
cause why the French Alliance turned out so ill for Friedrich; and why
French effort took more and more a Netherlands direction thenceforth,
and these new French magnanimities on Friedrich's behalf issued in
futility again. Probably they never could have issued in very much: but
it is certain that, from this point, they also do become zero; and that
Friedrich, from his French alliance, reaped from first to last nothing
at all, except a great deal of obloquy from German neighbors, and from
the French side endless trouble, anger and disappointment in every
particular. Which 'might be a joy (though not unmixed) to Britannic
Majesty and the subtle followers who had ginned this fine Belleisle bird
in its flight over the Harz Range? Though again, had they passively let
him wing his way, and he had GOT "to be Commander and Manager," as was
in agitation,--he, Belleisle and in Germany, instead of Marechal de Saxe
with the Netherlands as chief scene,--what an advantage might that have
been to them!

THE KAISER KARL VII. GETS SECURED FROM OPPRESSIONS, IN A TRAGIC WAY.
FRIEDRICH PROPOSES PEACE, BUT TO NO PURPOSE.

A still sadder cross for Friedrich, in the current of foreign Accidents
and Diplomacies, was the next that befell; exactly a month later,--at
Munchen, 20th January, 1745. Hardly was Belleisle's back turned, when
her Hungarian Majesty, by her Bathyani and Company, broke furiously in
upon the poor Kaiser and his Seckendorf-Segur defences. Belleisle had
not reached the Harz, when all was going topsy-turvy there again, and
the Donau-Valley fast falling back into Austrian hands. Nor is that the
worst, or nearly so.

"MUNCHEN, 20th JANUARY, 1745. This day poor Kaiser Karl laid down his
earthly burden here, and at length gave all his enemies the slip. He
had been ill of gout for some time; a man of much malady always, with no
want of vexations and apprehensions. Too likely the Austrians will drive
him out of Munchen again; then nothing but furnished lodgings, and the
French to depend upon. He had been much chagrined by some Election,
just done, in the Chapter of Salzburg. [Adelung, iv. 249, 276, 313.]
The Archbishop there--it was Firmian, he of the SALZBURG EMIGRATION,
memorable to readers--had died, some while ago. And now, in flat
contradiction to Imperial customs, prerogatives, these people had
admitted an Austrian Garrison; and then, in the teeth of our express
precept, had elected an Austrian to their benefice: what can one account
it but an insult as well as an injury? And the neuralgic maladies press
sore, and the gouty twinges; and Belleisle is seized, perhaps with
important papers of ours; and the Seckendorf-Segur detachments were ill
placed; nay here are the Austrians already on the throat of them, in
midwinter! It is said, a babbling valet, or lord-in-waiting, happened to
talk of some skirmish that had fallen out (called a battle, in the valet
rumor), and how ill the French and Bavarians had fared in it, owing to
their ill behavior. And this, add they, proved to be the ounce-weight
too much for the so heavy-laden back.

"The Kaiser took to bed, not much complaining; patient, mild, though
the saddest of all mortals; and, in a day or two, died. Adieu, adieu,
ye loved faithful ones; pity me, and pray for me! He gave his Wife, poor
little fat devout creature, and his poor Children (eldest lad, his Heir,
only seventeen), a tender blessing; solemnly exhorted them, To eschew
ambition, and be warned by his example;--to make their peace with
Austria; and never, like him, try COM' E DURO CALLE, and what the
charity of Christian Kings amounts to. This counsel, it is thought, the
Empress Dowager zealously accedes to, and will impress upon her Son.
That is the Austrian and Cause-of-Liberty account: King Friedrich, from
the other side, has heard a directly opposite one. How the Kaiser, at
the point of death, exhorted his son, 'Never forget the services which
the King of France and the King of Prussia have done us, and do not
repay them with ingratitude.' [ _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iii. 92;--and see
(PER CONTRA) in Adelung, iv. 314 A; in Coxe, &c.] The reader can choose
which he will, or reject both into the region of the uncertain. 'Karl
Albert's pious and affectionate demeanor drew tears from all eyes,' say
the by-standers: 'the manner in which he took leave of his Empress would
have melted a heart of stone.' He was in his forty-eighth year; he had
been, of all men in his generation, the most conspicuously unhappy."

What a down-rush of confusion there ensued on this event, not to Bavaria
alone, but to all the world, and to King Friedrich more than another,
no reader can now take the pains of conceiving. The "Frankfurt Union,"
then, has gone to air! Here is now no "Kaiser to be delivered from
oppression:" here is a new Kaiser to be elected,--"Grand-Duke Franz the
man," cry the Pragmatic Potentates with exultation, "no Belleisle to
disturb!"--and questions arise innumerable thereupon, Will France go
into electioneering again? The new Kur-Baiern, only seventeen, poor
child, cannot be set up as candidate. What will France do with HIM;
what he with France? Whom can the French try as Candidate against the
Grand-Duke? Kur-Sachsen, the Polish Majesty again? Belleisle himself
must have paused uncertain over such a welter,--and probably have done,
like the others, little or nothing in it, but left it to collapse by
natural gravitation.

Hungarian Majesty checked her Bavarian Armaments a little: "If perhaps
this young Kur-Baiern will detach himself from France, and on submissive
terms come over to us?" Whereupon, at Munchen, and in the cognate
quarters, such wriggling, dubitating and diplomatizing, as seldom
was,--French, Anti-French (Seckendorf busiest of all), straining every
nerve in that way, and for almost three months, nothing coming of
it,--till Hungarian Majesty sent her Barenklaus and Bathyanis upon them
again; and these rapidly solved the question, in what way we shall see!

Friedrich has still his hopes of Bavaria, so grandiloquent are the
French in regard to it; who but would hope? The French diplomatize to
all lengths in Munchen, promising seas and mountains; but they perform
little; in an effectual manner, nothing. Bavarian "Army raised to
60,000;" counts in fact little above half that number; with no General
to it but an imaginary one; Segur's actual French contingent, instead
of 25,000, is perhaps 12,000;--and so of other things. Add to all which,
Seckendorf is there, not now as War-General, but as extra-official
"Adviser;" busier than ever,--"scandalous old traitor!" say the
French;--and Friedrich may justly fear that Bavaria will go, by
collapse, a bad road for him.

Friedrich, a week or two after the Kaiser's death, seeing Bavarian and
French things in such a hypothetic state, instructs his Ambassador
at London to declare his, Friedrich's, perfect readiness and wish for
Peace: "Old Treaty of Breslau and Berlin made indubitable to me; the
rest of the quarrel has, by decease of the Kaiser, gone to air."
To which the Britannic Majesty, rather elated at this time, as all
Pragmatic people are, answers somewhat in a careless way, "Well, if
the others like it!" and promises that he will propose it in the proper
quarter. So that henceforth there is always a hope of Peace through
England; as well as contrariwise, especially till Bavaria settle itself
(in April next), a hope of great assistance from the French. Here are
potentialities and counter-potentialities, which make the Bavarian
Intricacy very agitating to the young King, while it lasts. And indeed
his world is one huge imbroglio of Potentialities and Diplomatic
Intricacies, agitating to behold. Concerning which we have again to
remark how these huge Spectres of Diplomacy, now filling Friedrich's
world, came mostly in result to Nothing;--shaping themselves wholly,
for or against, in exact proportion, direct or inverse, to the actual
Quantity of Battle and effective Performance that happened to be found
in Friedrich himself. Diplomatic Spectralities, wide Fatamorganas of
hope, and hideous big Bugbears blotting out the sun: of these, few
men ever had more than Friedrich at this time. And he is careful, none
carefuler, not to neglect his Diplomacies at any time;--though he
knows, better than most, that good fighting of his own is what alone
can determine the value of these contingent and aerial quantities,--mere
Lapland witchcraft the greater part of them.

A second grand Intricacy and difficulty, still more enigmatic, and
pressing the tighter by its close neighborhood, was that with the
Saxons. "Are the Saxons enemies; are they friends? Neutrals at lowest;
bound by Treaty to lend Austria troops; but to lend for defence merely,
not for offence! Could not one, by good methods, make friends with his
Polish Majesty?" Friedrich was far from suspecting the rages that lurked
in the Polish Majesty, and least of all owing to what. Owing to that old
MORAVIAN-FORAY business; and to his, Friedrich's, behavior to the Saxons
in it; excellent Saxons, who had behaved so beautifully to Friedrich!
That is the sad fact, however. Stupid Polish Majesty has his natural
envies, jealousies, of a Brandenburg waxing over his head at this rate.
But it appears, the Moravian Foray entered for a great deal into the
account, and was the final overwhelming item. Bruhl, by much descanting
on that famous Expedition,--with such candid Eye-witnesses to appeal to,
such corroborative Staff-officers and appliances, powerful on the idle
heart and weak brain of a Polish Majesty,--has brought it so far. Fixed
indignation, for intolerable usage, especially in that Moravian-Foray
time: fixed; not very malignant, but altogether obstinate (as, I am
told, that of the pacific sheep species usually is); which carried Bruhl
and his Polish Majesty to extraordinary heights and depths in years
coming! But that will deserve a section to itself by and by.

A third difficulty, privately more stringent than any, is that of
Finance. The expenses of the late Bohemian Expedition, "Friedrich's
Army costing 75,000 pounds a month," have been excessive. For our
next Campaign, if it is to be done in the way essential, there are, by
rigorous arithmetic, "900,000 pounds" needed. A frugal Prussia raises
no new taxes; pays its Wars from "the Treasure," from the Fund saved
beforehand for emergencies of that kind; Fund which is running low,
threatening to be at the lees if such drain on it continue. To fight
with effect being the one sure hope, and salve for all sores, it is
not in the Army, in the Fortresses, the Fighting Equipments, that there
shall be any flaw left! Friedrich's budget is a sore problem upon him;
needing endless shift and ingenuity, now and onwards, through this
war:--already, during these months, in the Berlin Schloss, a great deal
of those massive Friedrich-Wilhelm plate Sumptuosities, especially
that unparalleled Music-Balcony up stairs, all silver, has been, under
Fredersdorf's management, quietly taken away; "carried over, in the
night-time, to the Mint." [Orlich, ii. 126-128.]

And, in fact, no modern reader, not deeper in that distressing story
of the Austrian-Succession War than readers are again like to be, can
imagine to himself the difficulties of Friedrich at this time, as they
already lay disclosed, and kept gradually disclosing themselves,
for months coming; nor will ever know what perspicacity, patience
of scanning, sharpness of discernment, dexterity of management, were
required at Friedrich's hands;--and under what imminency of peril, too;
victorious deliverance, or ruin and annihilation, wavering fearfully
in the balance for him, more than once, or rather all along. But it
is certain the deeper one goes into that hideous Medea's Caldron of
stupidities, once so flamy, now fallen extinct, the more is one
sensible of Friedrich's difficulties; and of the talent for all kinds
of Captaincy,--by no means in the Field only, or perhaps even
chiefly,--that was now required of him. Candid readers shall accept
these hints, and do their best:--Friedrich himself made not the least
complaint of men's then misunderstanding him; still less will he now!
We, keeping henceforth the Diplomacies, the vaporous Foreshadows, and
general Dance of Unclean Spirits with their intrigues and spectralities,
well underground, so far as possible, will stick to what comes up as
practical Performance on Friedrich's part, and try to give intelligible
account of that.

Valori says, he is greatly changed, and for the better, by these late
reverses of fortune. All the world notices it, says Valori. No longer
that brief infallibility of manner; that lofty light air, that politely
disdainful view of Valori and mankind: he has now need of men. Complains
of nothing, is cheerful, quizzical;--ardently busy to "grind out the
notches," as our proverb is; has a mild humane aspect, something of
modesty, almost of piety in him. Help me, thou Supreme Power, Maker of
men, if my purposes are manlike! Though one does not go upon the Prayers
of Forty-Hours, or apply through St. Vitus and such channels, there may
be something of authentic petition to Heaven in the thoughts of that
young man. He is grown very amiable; the handsomest young bit of Royalty
now going. He must fight well next Summer, or it will go hard with him!

Chapter VI.--VALORI GOES ON AN ELECTIONEERING MISSION TO DRESDEN.

Some time in January, a new Frenchman, a "Chevalier de Courten," if the
name is known to anybody, was here at Berlin; consulting, settling about
mutual interests and operations. Since Belleisle is snatched from us,
it is necessary some Courten should come; and produce what he has got:
little of settlement, I should fear, of definite program that will
hold water; in regard to War operations chiefly a magazine of clouds.
[Specimens of it, in Ranke, iii. 219.] For the rest, the Bavarian
question; and very specially, Who the new Emperor is to be?"King of
Poland, thinks your Majesty?"--"By all means," answers Friedrich, "if
you can! Detach him from Austria; that will be well!" Which was reckoned
magnanimous, at least public-spirited, in Friedrich; considering what
Saxony's behavior to him had already been. "By all means, his Polish
Majesty for Kaiser; do our utmost, Excellencies Valori, Courten and
Company!" answers Friedrich,--and for his own part, I observe, is
intensely busy upon Army matters, looking after the main chance.

And so Valori is to go to Dresden, and manage this cloud or cobwebbery
department of the thing; namely, persuade his Polish Majesty to stand
for the Kaisership: "Baiern, Pfalz, Koln, Brandenburg, there are four
votes, Sire; your own is five: sure of carrying it, your Polish Majesty;
backed by the Most Christian King, and his Allies and resources!" And
Polish Majesty does, for his own share, very much desire to be Kaiser.
But none of us yet knows how he is tied up by Austria, Anti-Friedrich,
Anti-French considerations; and can only "accept if it is offered me:"
thrice-willing to accept, if it will fall into my mouth; which, on those
terms, it has so little chance of doing!--Saxony and its mysterious
affairs and intentions having been, to Friedrich, a riddle and trouble
and astonishment, during all this Campaign, readers ought to know the
fact well;--and no reader could stand the details of such a fact. Here,
in condensed form, are some scraps of Excerpt; which enable us to go
with Valori on this Dresden Mission, and look for ourselves:--

1. FRIEDRICH'S POSITION TOWARDS SAXONY.

"... By known Treaty, the Polish Majesty is bound to assist the
Hungarian with 12,000 men, 'whenever invaded in her own dominions.'
Polish Majesty had 20,000 in the field for that object lately,--part
of them, 8,000 of them, hired by Britannic subsidy, as he alleges. The
question now is, Will Saxony assist Austria in invading Silesia, with
or without Britannic subsidy? Friedrich hopes that this is impossible!
Friedrich is deeply unaware of the humor he has raised against himself
in the Saxon Court-circles; how the Polish Majesty regards that Moravian
Foray; with what a perfect hatred little Bruhl regards him, Friedrich;
and to what pitch of humor, owing to those Moravian-Foray starvings,
marchings about and inhuman treatment of the poor Saxon Army, not to
mention other offences and afflictive considerations, Bruhl has raised
the simple Polish Majesty against Friedrich. These things, as they
gradually unfolded themselves to Friedrich, were very surprising. And
proved very disadvantageous at the present juncture and for a long time
afterwards. To Friedrich disadvantageous and surprising; and to Saxony,
in the end, ruinous; poor Saxony having got its back broken by them, and
never stood up in the world since! Ruined by this wretched little Bruhl;
and reduced, from the first place in Northern Teutschland, to a second
or third, or no real place at all."

2. THERE IS A, "UNION OF WARSAW" (8th January, 1745); AND STILL MORE
SPECIALLY A "TREATY OF WARSAW" (8th January-18th May, 1745).

"January 8th, 1745, before the Old Dessauer got ranked in Schlesien
against Traun, there had concluded itself at Warsaw, by way of
counterpoise to the 'Frankfurt Union,' a 'Union of Warsaw,' called
also 'Quadruple Alliance of Warsaw;' the Parties to which were Polish
Majesty, Hungarian ditto, Prime-Movers, and the two Sea-Powers as
Purseholders; stipulating, to the effect: 'We Four will hold together in
affairs of the Reich VERSUS that dangerous Frankfurt Union; we will'--do
a variety of salutary things; and as one practical thing, 'There shall
be, this Season, 30,000 Saxons conjoined to the Austrian Force, for
which we Sea-Powers will furnish subsidy.'--This was the one practical
point stipulated, January 8th; and farther than this the Sea-Powers did
not go, now or afterwards, in that affair.

"But there was then proposed by the Polish and Hungarian Majesties,
in the form of Secret Articles, an ulterior Project; with which the
Sea-Powers, expressing mere disbelief and even abhorrence of it, refused
to have any concern now or henceforth. Polish Majesty, in hopes it
would have been better taken, had given his 30,000 soldiers at a rate
of subsidy miraculously low, only 150,000 pounds for the whole: but the
Sea-Powers were inexorable, perhaps almost repented of their 150,000
pounds; and would hear nothing farther of secret Articles and delirious
Projects.

"So that the 'Union of Warsaw' had to retire to its pigeon-hole, content
with producing those 30,000 Saxons for the immediate occasion; and
there had to be concocted between the Polish and Hungarian Majesties
themselves what is now, in the modern Pamphlets, called a 'TREATY of
Warsaw,'--much different from the innocent, 'UNION of Warsaw;' though it
is merely the specifying and fixing down of what had been shadowed
out as secret codicils in said 'Union,' when the Sea-Power parties
obstinately recoiled. Treaty of Warsaw let us continue to call it;
though its actual birth-place was Leipzig (in the profoundest secrecy,
18th May, 1745), above four months after it had tried to be born at
Warsaw, and failed as aforesaid. Warsaw Union is not worth speaking
of; but this other is a Treaty highly remarkable to the reader,--and to
Friedrich was almost infinitely so, when he came to get wind of it long
after.

"Treaty which, though it proved abortional, and never came to fulfilment
in any part of it, is at this day one of the remarkablest bits of
sheepskin extant in the world. It was signed 18th May, 1745; [Scholl,
ii. 350.] and had cost a great deal of painful contriving, capable still
of new altering and retouching, to hit mutual views: Treaty not only for
reconquering Silesia (which to the Two Majesties, though it did not
to the Sea-Powers, seems infallible, in Friedrich's now ruined
circumstances), but for cutting down that bad Neighbor to something like
the dimensions proper for a Brandenburg Vassal;--in fact, quite the old
'Detestable Project' of Spring, 1741, only more elaborated into detail
(in which Britannic George knows better than to meddle!)--Saxony to have
share of the parings, when we get them. 'What share?' asked Saxony, and
long keeps asking. 'A road to Warsaw; Strip of Country carrying us from
the end of the Lausitz, which is ours, into Poland, which we trust will
continue ours, would be very handy! Duchy of Glogau; some small paring
of Silesia, won't your Majesty?' 'Of my Silesia not one hand-breadth,'
answered the Queen impatiently (though she did at last concede
some outlying hand-breadths, famed old 'Circle of Schwiebus,' if I
recollect); and they have had to think of other equivalent parings for
Saxony's behoof (Magdeburg, Halberstadt, Saale-Circle, or one knows
not what); and have had, and will have, their adoes to get it fixed.
Excellent bearskin to be slit into straps; only the bear is still on his
feet!--Polish Majesty and Hungarian, Polish with especial vigor, Bruhl
quite restless upon it, are--little as Valori or any mortal could dream
of it--engaged in this partition of the bearskin, when Valori arrives.
Of their innocent Union of Warsaw, there was, from the first, no secret
made; but the Document now called 'TREATY of Warsaw' needs to lie secret
and thrice-secret; and it was not till 1756 that Friedrich, having
unearthed it by industries of his own, and studied it with great
intensity for some years, made it known to the world." [Adelung, v. 308.
397; Ranke, iii. 231 (who, for some reason of his own, dates "3d May"
instead of 18th].

Treaties, vaporous Foreshadows of Events, have oftenest something of the
ghost in them; and are importune to human nature, longing for the Events
themselves; all the more if they have proved abortional Treaties, and
become doubly ghost-like or ghastly. Nevertheless the reader is to
note well this Treaty of Warsaw, as important to Friedrich and him; and
indeed it is perhaps the remarkablest Treaty, abortional or realized,
which got to parchment in that Century. For though it proved abortional,
and no part of it, now or afterwards, could be executed, and even the
subsidy and 30,000 Saxons (stipulated in the "UNION of Warsaw") became
crow's-meat in a manner,--this preternatural "Treaty of Warsaw," trodden
down never so much by the heel of Destiny, and by the weight of
new Treaties, superseding it or presupposing its impossibility or
inconceivability, would by no means die (such the humor of Bruhl, of
the Two Majesties and others); but lay alive under the ashes, carefully
tended, for Ten or Twenty Years to come;--and had got all Europe kindled
again, for destruction of that bad Neighbor, before it would itself
consent to go out! And did succeed in getting Saxony's back broken,
if not the bad Neighbor's,--in answer to the humor of little Bruhl;
unfortunate Saxony to possess such a Bruhl!

In those beautiful Saxon-Austrian developments of the Treaty of
Warsaw, Czarina Elizabeth, bobbing about in that unlovely whirlpool of
intrigues, amours, devotions and strong liquor, which her History is,
took (ask not for what reason) a lively part:--and already in this
Spring of 1745, they hope she could, by "a gift of two millions for
her pleasures" (gift so easy to you Sea-Powers), be stirred up to anger
against Friedrich. And she did, in effect, from this time, hover about
in a manner questionable to Friedrich; though not yet in anger, but
only with the wish to be important, and to make herself felt in Foreign
affairs. Whether the Sea-Powers gave her that trifle of pocket-money
("for her pleasures"), I never knew; but it is certain they spent, first
and last, very large amounts that way, upon her and hers; especially the
English did, with what result may be considered questionable.

As for Graf von Bruhl, most rising man of Saxony, once a page; now by
industry King August III.'s first favorite and factotum; the fact that
he cordially hates Friedrich is too evident; but the why is not known to
me. Except indeed, That no man--especially no man with three hundred
and sixty-five fashionable suits of clothes usually about him, different
suit each day of the year--can be comfortable in the evident contempt of
another man. Other man of sarcastic bantering turn, too; tongue sharp
as needles; whose sayings many birds of the air are busy to carry about.
Year after year, Bruhl (doubtless with help enough that way, if there
had needed such) hates him more and more; as the too jovial Czarina
herself comes to do, wounded by things that birds have carried. And now
we will go with Valori,--seeing better into some things than Valori yet
can.

3. VALORI'S ACCOUNT OF HIS MISSION (in compressed form). [Valori, i.
211-219.]

"Valori [I could guess about the 10th of February, but there is no date
at all] was despatched to Dresden with that fine project, Polish Majesty
for Kaiser: is authorized to offer 60,000 men, with money corresponding,
and no end of brilliant outlooks;--must keep back his offers, however,
if he find the people indisposed. Which he did, to an extreme degree;
nothing but vague talk, procrastination, hesitation on the part of
Bruhl. This wretched little Bruhl has twelve tailors always sewing for
him, and three hundred and sixty-five suits of clothes: so many suits,
all pictured in a Book; a valet enters every morning, proposes a suit,
which, after deliberation, with perhaps amendments, is acceded to, and
worn at dinner. Vainest of human clothes-horses; foolishest coxcomb
Valori has seen: it is visibly his notion that it was he, Bruhl, by his
Saxon auxiliaries, by his masterly strokes of policy, that checkmated
Friedrich, and drove him from Bohemia last Year; and, for the rest, that
Friedrich is ruined, and will either shirk out of Silesia, or be cut to
ribbons there by the Austrian force this Summer. To which Valori hints
dissent; but it is ill received. Valori sees the King; finds him, as
expected, the fac-simile of Bruhl in this matter; Jesuit Guarini the
like: how otherwise? They have his Majesty in their leash, and lead him
as they please.

"At four every morning, this Guarini, Jesuit Confessor to the King and
Queen, comes to Bruhl; Bruhl settles with him what his Majesty shall
think, in reference to current business, this day; Guarini then goes,
confesses both Majesties; confesses, absolves, turns in the due way
to secular matters. At nine, Bruhl himself arrives, for Privy Council:
'What is your Majesty pleased to think on these points of current
business?' Majesty serenely issues his thoughts, in the form of orders;
which are found correct to pattern. This is the process with his
Majesty. A poor Majesty, taking deeply into tobacco; this is the way
they have him benetted, as in a dark cocoon of cobwebs, rendering the
whole world invisible to him. Which cunning arrangement is more and more
perfected every year; so that on all roads he travels, be it to mass,
to hunt, to dinner, any-whither in his Palace or out of it, there are
faithful creatures keeping eye, who admit no unsafe man to the least
glimpse of him by night or by day. In this manner he goes on; and before
the end of him, twenty years hence, has carried it far. Nothing but
disgust to be had out of business;--mutinous Polish Diets too, some
forty of them, in his time, not one of which did any business at all,
but ended in LIBERUM VETO, and Billingsgate conflagration, perhaps
with swords drawn: [See Buchholz, 154; &c.]--business more and more
disagreeable to him. What can Valori expect, on this heroic occasion,
from such a King?

"The Queen herself, Maria Theresa's Cousin, an ambitious hard-favored
Majesty,--who had sense once to dislike Bruhl, but has been quite
reconciled to him by her Jesuit Messenger of Heaven (which latter is an
oily, rather stupid creature, who really wishes well to her, and loves
a peaceable life at any price),--even she will not take the bait. Valori
was in Dresden nine days (middle part of February, it is likely); never
produced his big bait, his 60,000 men and other brilliancies, at all.
He saw old Feldmarschall Konigseck passing from Vienna towards the
Netherlands Camp; where he is to dry-nurse (so they irreverently call
it, in time coming) his Royal Highness of Cumberland, that magnificent
English Babe of War, and do feats with him this Summer." Konigseck,
though Valori did not know it, has endless diplomacies to do withal;
inspections of troops, advisings, in Hanover, in Holland, in Dresden
here; [Anonymous,--Duke of Cumberland,--p. 186.]--and secures the Saxon
Electoral-Vote for his Grand-Duke in passing. "The welcome given to
Konigseck disgusted Valori; on the ninth day he left; said adieu, seeing
them blind to their interest; and took post for Berlin,"--where he finds
Friedrich much out of humor at the Saxon reception of his magnanimities.
[Valori, i. 211-219; _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iii. 81-85. For details
on Bruhl, see _Graf von Bruhl, Leben und Charakter_ (1760, No Place):
Anonymous, by one Justi, a noted Pamphleteer of the time: exists in
English too, or partly exists; but is unreadable, except on compulsion;
and totally unintelligible till after very much inquiry elsewhere.]

This Saxon intricacy, indecipherable, formidable, contemptible, was the
plague of Friedrich's life, one considerable plague, all through this
Campaign. Perhaps nothing in the Diplomatic sphere of things caused
him such perplexity, vexation, indignation. An insoluble riddle to
him; extremely contemptible, yet,--with a huge Russia tacked to it, and
looming minatory in the distance,--from time to time, formidable enough.
Let readers keep it in mind, and try to imagine it. It cost Friedrich
such guessing, computing, arranging, rearranging, as would weary the
toughest reader to hear of in detail. How Friedrich did at last solve it
(in December coming), all readers will see with eyes!--

MIDDLE-RHINE ARMY IN A STAGGERING STATE; THE BAVARIAN INTRICACY SETTLES
ITSELF, THE WRONG WAY.

Early in March it becomes surmisable that Maillebois's Middle-Rhine Army
will not go a good road. Maillebois has been busy in those countries,
working extensive discontent; bullying mankind "to join the Frankfurt
Union," to join France at any rate, which nobody would consent to; and
exacting merciless contributions, which everybody had to consent to and
pay.--And now, on D'Ahremberg's mere advance, with that poor Fraction
of Pragmatic Army, roused from its winter sleep, Maillebois, without
waiting for D'Ahremberg's attack, rapidly calls in his truculent
detachments, and rolls confusedly back into the Frankfurt regions.
[Adelung, iv. 276-352 (December, 1744-March, 1745).] Upon which
D'Ahremberg--if by no means going upon Maillebois's throat--sets, at
least, to coercing Wilhelm of Hessen, our only friend in those parts;
who is already a good deal disgusted with the Maillebois procedures,
and at a loss what to do on the Kaiser's death, which has killed the
Frankfurt Union too. Wise Wilhelm consents, under D'Ahremberg's menaces,
to become Neutral; and recall his 6,000 out of Baiern,--wishes he had
them home beside him even now!

With an Election in the wind, it is doubly necessary for the French, who
have not even a Candidate as yet, to stand supreme and minatory in the
Frankfurt Country; and to King Friedrich it is painfully questionable,
whether Maillebois can do it. "Do it we will; doubt not that, your
Majesty!" answer Valori and the French;--and study to make improvements,
reinforcements, in their Rhine Army. And they do, at least, change the
General of their Middle-Rhine Army,--that is to say, recall Prince Conti
out of Italy, where he has distinguished himself, and send Maillebois
thither in his stead,--who likewise distinguishes himself THERE, if that
could be a comfort to us! Whether the distinguished Conti will maintain
that Frankfurt Country in spite of the Austrians and their Election
movements, is still a question with Friedrich, though Valori continued
assuring him (always till July came) that, it was beyond question.
"Siege of Tournay, vigorous Campaign in the Netherlands (for behoof of
Britannic George)!" this is the grand French program for the Year. This
good intention was achieved, on the French part; but this, like Aaron's
rod among the serpents, proved to have EATEN the others as it wriggled
along!--

Those Maillebois-D'Ahremberg affairs throw a damp on the Bavarian
Question withal;--in fact, settle the Bavarian Question; her Hungarian
Majesty, tired of the delays, having ordered Bathyani to shoulder arms
again, and bring a decision. Bathyani, with Barenklau to right of him,
and Browne (our old Silesian friend) to left, goes sweeping across those
Seckendorf-Segur posts, and without difficulty tumbles everything to
ruin, at a grand rate. The traitor Seckendorf had made such a choice of
posts,--left unaltered by Drum Thorring;--what could French valor do?
Nothing; neither French valor, nor Bavarian want of valor, could
do anything but whirl to the right-about, at sight of the Austrian
Sweeping-Apparatus; and go off explosively, as in former instances, at
a rate almost unique in military annals. Finished within three weeks or
so!--We glance only at two points of it. March 21st, Bathyani stood to
arms (to BESOMS we might call it), Browne on the left, Barenklau on the
right: it was March 21st when Bathyani started from Passau, up the Donau
Countries;--and within the week coming, see:--

"VILSHOFEN, 28th MARCH, 1745. Here, at the mouth of the Vils River
(between Inn and Iser), is the first considerable Post; garrison some
4,000; Hessians and Prince Friedrich the main part,--who have their
share of valor, I dare say; but with such news out of Hessen, not to
speak of the prospects in this Country, are probably in poorish spirits
for acting. General Browne summons them in Vilshofen, this day; and, on
their negative, storms in upon them, bursts them to pieces; upon which
they beat chamade. But the Croats, who are foremost, care nothing for
chamade: go plundering, slaughtering; burn the poor Town; butcher [in
round numbers] 3,000 of the poor Hessians; and wound General Browne
himself, while he too vehemently interferes." [Adelung, iv. 356, and the
half-intelligible Foot-note in Ranke, iii. 220.] This was the finale
of those 6,000 Hessians, and indeed their principal function, while in
French pay;--and must have been, we can Judge how surprising to Prince
Friedrich, and to his Papa on hearing of it! Note another point.

Precisely about this time twelvemonth, "March 16th, 1746," the same
Prince Friedrich, with remainder of those Hessians, now again completed
to 6,000, and come back with emphasis to the Britannic side of
things, was--marching out of Edinburgh, in much state, with streamers,
kettle-drums, Highness's coaches, horses, led-horses, on an unexpected
errand. [Henderson (Whig Eye-witness). _History of the Rebellion,_ 1745
and 1746 (London, 1748, reprint from the Edinburgh edition), pp. 104,
106, 107.] Toward Stirling, Perth; towards Killiecrankie, and raising of
what is called "the Siege of Blair in Athol" (most minute of "sieges,"
but subtending a great angle there and then);--much of unexpected, and
nearer home than "Tournay and the Netherlands Campaign," having happened
to Britannic George in the course of this year, 1746! "Really very fine
troops, those Hessians [observes my orthodox Whig friend]: they carry
swords as well as guns and bayonets; their uniform is blue turned up
with white: the Hussar part of them, about 500, have scimitars of
a great length; small horses, mostly black, of Swedish breed; swift
durable little creatures, with long tails." Honors, dinners, to his
Serene Highness had been numerous, during the three weeks we had him
in Edinburgh; "especially that Ball, February 21st (o.s.), eve of his
Consort the Princess Mary's Birthday [EVE of birthday, "let us dance the
auspicious morning IN] was, for affluence of Nobility and Gentry of both
sexes," a sublime thing...."

PFAFFENHOFEN, APRIL 15th. "Unfortunate Segur, the Segur of Linz three
years ago,--whose conduct was great, according to Valori, but powerless
against traitors and fate!--was again, once more, unfortunate in those
parts. Unfortunate Segur drew up at Pfaffenhofen (centre of the Country,
many miles from Vilshofen) to defend himself, when fallen upon by
Barenklau, in that manner; but could not, though with masterly demeanor;
and had to retreat three days, with his face to the enemy, so to speak,
fighting and manoeuvring all the way: no shelter for him either but
Munchen, and that, a most temporary one. Instead of taking Straubingen,
taking Passau, perhaps of pushing on to Vienna itself, this is what
we have already come to. No Rhine Army, Middle-Rhine Army, Coigny,
Maillebois, Conti, whoever it was, should send us the least
reinforcement, when shrieked to. No outlook whatever but rapid
withdrawal, retreat to the Rhine Army, since it will not stir to help
us." [Adelung, iv. 360.]

"The young Kur-Baiern is still polite, grateful [to us French],
overwhelms us with politeness; but flies to Augsburg, as his Father used
to do. Notable, however, his poor fat little Mother won't, this time:
'No, I will stay here, I for one, and have done with flying and running;
we have had enough of that!' Seckendorf, quite gone from Court in this
crisis, reappears, about the middle of April, in questionable capacity;
at a place called Fussen, not far off, at the foot of the Tyrol
Hills;--where certain Austrian Dignitaries seem also to be enjoying a
picturesque Easter! Yes indeed: and, on APRIL 22d, there is signed a
'PEACE OF FUSSEN' there; general amicable AS-YOU-WERE, between Austria
and Bavaria ('Renounce your Anti-Pragmatic moonshine forevermore, vote
for our Grand-Duke; there is your Bavaria back, poor wretches!')--and
Seckendorf, it is presumable, will get his Turkish arrears liquidated.

"The Bavarian Intricacy, which once excelled human power, is settled,
then. Carteret and Haslang tried it in vain [dreadful heterodox
intentions of secularizing Salzburg, secularizing Passau, Regensburg,
and loud tremulous denial of such];--Carteret and Wilhelm of Hesseu
[Conferences of Hanau, which ruined Carteret], in vain; King Friedrich,
and many Kings, in vain: a thing nobody could settle;--and it has at
last settled itself, as the generality of ill-guided and unlucky things
do, by collapse. Delirium once out, the law of gravity acts; and there
the mad matter lies."

"Bought by Austria, that old villain!" cry the French. Friedrich does
not think the Austrians bought Seckendorf, having no money at present;
but guesses they may have given him to understand that a certain large
arrear of payment due ever since those Turkish Wars,--when Seckendorf,
instead of payment, was lodged in the Fortress of Gratz, and almost
got his head cut off,--should now be paid down in cash, or authentic
Paper-money, if matters become amicable. [ _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iii.
22; _Seckendorfs Leben,_ pp. 367-376.] As they have done, in Friedrich's
despite;--who seems angrier at the old stager for this particular
ill-turn than for all the other many; and long remembers it, as will
appear.

Chapter VII.--FRIEDRICH IN SILESIA; UNUSUALLY BUSY.

Here, sure enough, are sad new intricacies in the Diplomatic, hypothetic
sphere of things; and clouds piling themselves ahead, in a very minatory
manner to King Friedrich. Let King Friedrich, all the more, get his
Fighting Arrangements made perfect. Diplomacy is clouds; beating of
your enemies is sea and land. Austria and the Gazetteer world consider
Friedrich to be as good as finished: but that is privately far from
being Friedrich's own opinion;--though these occurrences are heavy and
dismal to him, as none of us can now fancy.

Herr Ranke has got access, in the Archives, to a series of private
utterances by Friedrich,--Letters from him, of a franker nature than
usual, and letting us far deeper into his mind;--which must have been
well worth reading in the original, in their fully dated and developed
condition. From Herr Ranke's Fragmentary Excerpts, let us, thankful
for what we have got, select one or two. The Letters are to Minister
Podewils at Berlin; written from Silesia (Neisse and neighborhood),
where, since the middle of March, Friedrich has been, personally pushing
on his Army Preparations, while the above sinister things befell.

KING FRIEDRICH TO PODEWILS, IN BERLIN (under various dates, March-April,
1745).

NEISSE, 29th MARCH.... "We find ourselves in a great crisis. If we
don't, by mediation of England, get Peace, our enemies from different
sides [Saxony, Austria, who knows if not Russia withal!] will come
plunging in against me. Peace I cannot force them to. But if they
must have War, we will either beat them, or none of us will see Berlin
again." [Ranke, iii. 236 et seqq.]

APRIL (no day given).... "In any case, I have my troops well together.
The sicknesses are ceasing; the recruitments are coming in: shortly all
will be complete. That does not hinder us from making Peace, if it will
only come; but, in the contrary case, nobody can accuse me of neglecting
what was necessary."

APRIL 17th (still from Neisse).... "I toil day and night to improve our
situation. The soldiers will do their duty. There is none among us who
will not rather have his backbone broken than give up one foot-breadth
of ground. They must either grant us a good Peace, or we will surpass
ourselves by miracles of daring; and force the enemy to accept it from
us."

APRIL 20th. "Our situation is disagreeable; constrained, a kind of
spasm: but my determination is taken. If we needs must fight, we will do
it like men driven desperate. Never was there a greater peril than
that I am now in. Time, at its own pleasure, will untie this knot; or
Destiny, if there is one, determine the event. The game I play is so
high, one cannot contemplate the issue with cold blood. Pray for the
return of my good luck."--Two days hence, the poor young Kur-Baiern,
deaf to the French seductions and exertions, which were intense, had
signed his "Peace of Fussen" (22d April 1745),--a finale to France on
the German Field, as may be feared! The other Fragments we will give a
little farther on.

Friedrich had left Berlin for Silesia March 15th; rather sooner than he
counted on,--Old Leopold pleading to be let home. At Glogau, at Breslau,
there had been the due inspecting: Friedrich got to Neisse on the 23d
(Bathyani just stirring in that Bavarian Business, Vilshofen and the
Hessians close ahead); and on the 27th, had dismissed Old Leopold,
with thanks and sympathies,--sent him home, "to recover his health."
Leopold's health is probably suffering; but his heart and spirits still
more. Poor old man, he has just lost--the other week, "5th February"
last--his poor old Wife, at Dessau; and is broken down with grief. The
soft silk lining of his hard Existence, in all parts of it, is torn
away. Apothecary Fos's Daughter, Reich's Princess, Princess of Dessau,
called by whatever name, she had been the truest of Wives; "used to
attend him in all his Campaigns, for above fifty years back." "Gone,
now, forever gone!"--Old Leopold had wells of strange sorrow in the
rugged heart of him,--sorrow, and still better things,--which he does
not wear on his sleeve. Here is an incident I never can forget;--dating
twelve or thirteen years ago (as is computable), middle of July, 1732.

"Louisa, Leopold's eldest Daughter, Wife of Victor Leopold, reigning
Prince of Anhalt-Bernburg, lay dying of a decline." Still only
twenty-three, poor Lady, though married seven years ago;--the end now
evidently drawing nigh. "A few days before her death,--perhaps some
attendant sorrowfully asking, 'Can we do nothing, then?'--she was heard
to say, 'If I could see my Father at the head of his Regiment, yet
once!'"--Halle, where the Regiment lies, is some thirty or more miles
off; and King Friedrioh Wilhelm, I suppose, would have to be written
to:--Leopold was ready the soonest possible; and, "at a set hour,
marched, in all pomp, with banner flying, music playing, into the
SCHLOSS-HOF (Palace Court) of Bernburg; and did the due salutations
and manoeuvrings,--his poor Daughter sitting at her window, till they
ended;"--figure them, the last glitter of those muskets, the last wail
of that band-music!--"The Regiment was then marched to the Waisenhaus
(ORPHAN-HOUSE), where the common men were treated with bread and beer;
all the Officers dining at the Prince's Table. All the Officers, except
Leopold alone, who stole away out of the crowd; sat himself upon the
balustrade of the Saale Bridge, and wept into the river." [LEBEN (12mo;
not Rannft's, but Anonymous like his), p. 234 n.]--Leopold is now on the
edge of seventy; ready to think all is finished with him. Perhaps not
quite, my tough old friend; recover yourself a little, and we shall see!

Old Leopold is hardly home at Dessau, when new Pandour Tempests, tides
of ravaging War, again come beating against the Giant Mountains, pouring
through all passes; from utmost Jablunka, westward by Jagerndorf to
Glatz, huge influx of wild riding hordes, each with some support of
Austrian grenadiers, cannoniers; threatening to submerge Silesia.
Precursors, Friedrich need not doubt, of a strenuous regular attempt
that way, Hungarian Majesty's fixed intention, hope and determination
is, To expel him straightway from Silesia. Her Patent circulates,
these three months; calling on all men to take note of that fixed
fact, especially on all Silesian men to note it well, and shift their
allegiance accordingly. Silesian men, in great majority,--our friend
the Mayor of Landshut, for example?--are believed to have no inclination
towards change: and whoever has, had clearly better not show any till he
see! [In Ranke (iii. 234), there is vestige of some intended
"voluntary subscription by the common people of Glatz," for Friedrich's
behoof;--contrariwise, in Orlich (ii. 380, "6th February, 1745," from
the Dessau Archives), notice of one individual, suspected of stirring
for Austria, whom "you are to put under lock and key;"--but he runs off,
and has no successor, that I hear of.]--

Friedrich's thousand-fold preliminary orderings, movements, rearrangings
in his Army matters, must not detain us here;--still less his dealings
with the Pandour element, which is troublesome, rather than dangerous.
Vigilance, wise swift determination, valor drilled to its work, can deal
with phenomena of that nature, though never so furious and innumerable.
Not a cheering service for drilled valor, but a very needful one.
Continual bickerings and skirmishings fell out, sometimes rising to
sharp fight on the small scale:--Austrian grenadiers with cannon are on
that Height to left, and also on this to right, meaning to cut off our
march; the difficult landscape furnished out, far and wide, with Pandour
companies in position: you must clash in, my Burschen; seize me that
cannon-battery yonder; master such and such a post,--there is the heart
of all that network of armed doggery; slit asunder that, the network
wholly will tumble over the Hills again. Which is always done, on
the part of the Prussian Burschen; though sometimes not, without
difficulty.--His Majesty is forming Magazines at Neisse, Brieg, and
the principal Fortresses in those parts; driving on all manner of
preparations at the rapidest rate of speed, and looking with his own
eyes into everything. The regiments are about what we may call complete,
arithmetically and otherwise; the cavalry show good perfection in their
new mode of manoeuvring;--it is to be hoped the Fighting Apparatus
generally will give fair account of itself when the time comes. Our one
anchor of hope, as now more and more appears.

On the Pandour element he first tried (under General Hautcharmoi, with
Winterfeld as chief active hand) a direct outburst or two, with a view
to slash them home at once. But finding that it was of no use, as they
always reappeared in new multitudes, he renounced that; took to calling
in his remoter outposts; and, except where Magazines or the like
remained to be cared for, let the Pandours baffle about, checked only by
the fortified Towns, and more and more submerge the Hill Country. Prince
Karl, to be expected in the form of lion, mysteriously uncertain on
which side coming to invade us,--he, and not the innumerable weasel
kind, is our important matter! By the end of April (news of the PEACE
OF FUSSEN coming withal), Friedrich had quitted Neisse; lay cantoned, in
Neisse Valley (between Frankenstein and Patschkau, "able to assemble in
forty-eight hours"); studying, with his whole strength, to be ready
for the mysterious Prince Karl, on whatever side he might arrive;--and
disregarding the Pandours in comparison.

The points of inrush, the tideways of these Pandour Deluges seem to be
mainly three. Direct through the Jablunka, upon Ratibor Country, is
the first and chief; less direct (partly supplied by REFLUENCES from
Ratibor, when Ratibor is found not to answer), a second disembogues by
Jagerndorf; a third, the westernmost, by Landshut. Three main ingresses:
at each of which there fall out little Fights; which are still
celebrated in the Prussian Books, and indeed well deserve reading by
soldiers that would know their trade. In the Ratibor parts, the invasive
leader is a General Karoly, with 12,000 under him, who are the wildest
horde of all: "Karoly lodges in a wood: for himself there is a tent;
his companions sleep under trees, or under the open sky, by the edge of
morasses." [Ranke, iii. 244.] It was against this Karoly and his horde
that Hautcharmoi's little expedition, or express attacking party to
drive them home again, was shot out (8th-2lst April). Which did its work
very prettily; Winterfeld, chief hand in it, crowning the matter by a
"Fight of Wurbitz," [Orlich, ii. 136 (21st April).]--where Winterfeld,
cutting the taproot, in his usual electric way, tumbles Karoly quite
INTO the morasses, and clears the country of him for a time. For a time;
though for a time only;--Karoly or others returning in a week or two,
to a still higher extent of thousands; mischievous as ever in those
Ratibor-Namslau countries. Upon which, Friedrich, finding this an
endless business, and nothing like the most important, gives it up for
the present; calls in his remoter detachments; has his Magazines carted
home to the Fortress Towns,--Karoly trying, once or so, to hinder in
that operation, but only again getting his crown broken. ["Fight of
Mocker," May 4th (Orlich, ii. 141).] Or if carting be too difficult,
still do not waste your Magazine:--Margraf Karl, for instance, is
ordered to Jagerndorf with his Detachment, "to eat the Magazine;" hungry
Pandours looking on, till he finish. On which occasion a renowned little
Fight took place (Fight of Neustadt, or of Jagerndorf-Neustadt), as
shall be mentioned farther on.

So that, for certain weeks to come, the Tolpatcheries had free course,
in those Frontier parts; and were left to rove about, under check only
of the Garrison Towns; Friedrich being obliged to look elsewhere
after higher perils, which were now coming in view. In which favorable
circumstances, Karoly and Consorts did, at last, make one stroke in
those Ratibor countries; that of Kosel, which was greatly consolatory.
[26th May, 1743 (Orlich, ii. 156-158).] "By treachery of an Ensign
who had deserted to them [provoked by rigor of discipline, or some
intolerable thing], they glided stealthily, one night, across the
ditches, into Kosel" (a half-fortified place, Prussian works only
half finished): which, being the Key of the Oder in those parts, they
reckoned a glorious conquest; of good omen and worthy of TE-DEUMS at
Vienna. And they did eagerly, without the least molestation, labor
to complete the Prussian works at Kosel: "One garrison already
ours!"--which was not had from them without battering (and I believe,
burning), when General von Nassau came to inquire after it; in Autumn
next.

Friedrich had always hoped that the Saxons, who are not yet in declared
War with him, though bound by Treaty to assist the Queen of Hungary
under certain conditions, would not venture on actual Invasion of his
Territories; but in this, as readers anticipate, Friedrich finds himself
mistaken. Weissenfels is hastening from the Leitmeritz northwestern
quarter, where he has wintered, to join Prince Karl, who is gathering
himself from Olmutz and his southeastern home region; their full
intention is to invade Silesia together, and they hope now at length to
make an end of Friedrich and it. These Pandour hordes, supported by the
necessary grenadiers and cannoniers, are sent as vanguard; these cannot
themselves beat him; but they may induce him (which they do not) to
divide his Force; they may, in part, burn him away as by slow fire,
after which he will be the easier to beat. Instead of which, Friedrich,
leaving the Pandours to their luck, lies concentrated in Neisse Valley;
watching, with all his faculties, Prince Karl's own advent (coming on
like Fate, indubitable, yet involved in mysteries hitherto); and is
perilously sensible that only in giving that a good reception is there
any hope left him.

Prince Karl "who arrived in Olmutz April 30th," commands in chief
again,--saddened, poor man, by the loss of his young Wife, in December
last; willing to still his grief in action for the cause SHE loved;--but
old Traun is not with him this year: which is a still more material
circumstance. Traun is to go this year, under cloak not of Prince Karl,
but of Grand-Duke Franz, to clear those Frankfurt Countries for
the KAISERWAHL and him. Prince Conti lies there, with his famous
"Middle-Rhine Army" (D'Ahremberg, from the western parts, not nearly so
diligent upon him as one could wish); and must, at all rates, be cleared
away. Traun, taking command of Bathyani's Army (now that it has finished
the Bavarian job), is preparing to push down upon Conti, while Bathyani
(who is to supersede the laggard D'Ahremberg) shall push vigorously
up;--and before summer is over, we shall hear of Traun again, and Conti
will have heard!--

Friedrich's indignation, on learning that the Saxons were actually on
march, and gradually that they intended to invade him, was great; and
the whole matter is portentously enigmatic to him, as he lies vigilant
in Neisse Valley, waiting on the When and the How. Indignation;--and
yet there is need of caution withal. To be ready for events, the Old
Dessauer has, as one sure measure, been requested to take charge, once
more, of a "Camp of Observation" on the Saxon Frontier (as of old, in
1741); and has given his consent: ["April 25th" consents (Orlich, ii.
130).] "Camp of Magdeburg," "Camp of Dieskau;" for it had various names
and figures; checkings of your hand, then layings of it on, heavier,
lighter and again heavier, according to one's various READINGS of the
Saxon Mystery; and we shall hear enough about it, intermittently, till
December coming: when it ended in a way we shall not forget!--On which
take this Note:--

"The Camp of Observation was to have begun May 1st; did begin somewhat
later, 'near Magdeburg,' not too close on the Frontier, nor in too
alarming strength; was reinforced to about 30,000; in which state
[middle of August] it stept forward to Wieskau, then to Dieskau,
close on the Saxon Border; and became,--with a Saxon Camp lying close
opposite, and War formally threatened, or almost declared, on Saxony
by Friedrich,--an alarmingly serious matter. Friedrich, however, again
checked his hand; and did not consummate till November-December. But
did then consummate; greatly against his will; and in a way
flamingly visible to all men!" [Orlich, ii. 130, 209, 210:
_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 1224-1226; i. 1117.]

Friedrich's own incidental utterances (what more we have of Fractions
from the Podewils Letters), in such portentous aspect of affairs, may
now be worth giving. It is not now to Jordan that he writes, gayly
unbosoming himself, as in the First War,--poor Jordan lies languishing,
these many months; consumptive, too evidently dying:--Not to Jordan,
this time; nor is the theme "GLOIRE" now, but a far different!

FRIEDRICH TO PODEWILS (as before, April-May, 1745).

April 20th or so, Orders are come to Berlin (orders, to Podewils's
horror at such a thought), Whitherward, should Berlin be assaulted,
the Official Boards, the Preciosities and household gods are to betake
themselves:--to Magdeburg, all these, which is an impregnable place;
to Stettin, the Two Queens and Royal Family, if they like it better.
Podewils in horror, "hair standing on end," writes thereupon to Eichel,
That he hopes the management, "in a certain contingency," will be given
to Minister Boden; he Podewils, with his hair in that posture, being
quite unequal to it. Friedrich answers:--

"APRIL 26th.... 'I can understand how you are getting uneasy, you
Berliners. I have the most to lose of you all; but I am quiet, and
prepared for events. If the Saxons take part,' as they surely will, 'in
the Invasion of Silesia, and we beat them, I am determined to plunge
into Saxony. For great maladies, there need great remedies. Either
I will maintain my all, or else lose my all. [Hear it, friend; and
understand it,--with hair lying flat!] It is true, the disaffection of
the Russian Court, on such trifling grounds, was not to be expected; and
great misfortune can befall us. Well; a year or two sooner, a year or
two later,--it is not worth one's while to bother about the very worst.
If things take the better turn, our condition will be surer and firmer
than it was before. If we have nothing to reproach ourselves with,
neither need we fret and plague ourselves about bad events, which can
happen to any man.'--'I am causing despatch a secret Order for Boden [on
YOU know what], which you will not deliver him till I give sign.'"--On
hearing of the Peace of Fussen, perhaps a day or so later, Friedrich
again writes:--

"APRIL [no distinct date; Neisse still? QUITS Neisse, April 28th].
... Peace of Fussen, Bavaria turned against me? 'I can say nothing to
it,--except, There has come what had to come. To me remains only
to possess myself in patience. If all alliances, resources, and
negotiations fail, and all conjunctures go against me, I prefer to
perish with honor, rather than lead an inglorious life deprived of all
dignity. My ambition whispers me that I have done more than another to
the building up of my House, and have played a distinguished part among
the crowned heads of Europe. To maintain myself there, has become as it
were a personal duty; which I will fulfil at the expense of my happiness
and my life. I have no choice left: I will maintain my power, or it
may go to ruin, and the Prussian name be buried under it. If the enemy
attempt anything upon us, we will either beat him, or we will all
be hewed to pieces, for the sake of our Country, and the renown of
Brandenburg. No other counsel can I listen to.'"

SAME LETTER, OR ANOTHER? (Herr Ranke having his caprices!)... "You are a
good man, my Podewils, and do what can be expected of you" (Podewils
has been apologizing for his terrors; and referring hopefully "to
Providence"): "Perform faithfully the given work on your side, as I on
mine; for the rest, let what you call 'Providence' decide as it
likes [UNE PROVIDENCE AVEUGLE? Ranke, who alone knows, gives "BLINDE
VORSEHUNG." What an utterance, on the part of this little Titan!
Consider it as exceptional with him, unusual, accidental to the hard
moment, and perhaps not so impious as it looks!]--Neither our prudence
nor our courage shall be liable to blame; but only circumstances that
would not favor us....

"I prepare myself for every event. Fortune may be kind or be unkind, it
shall neither dishearten me nor uplift me. If I am to perish, let it
be with honor, and sword in hand. What the issue is to be--Well, what
pleases Heaven, or the Other Party (J'AI JETE LE BONNET PAR DESSUS LES
MOULINS)! Adieu, my dear Podewils; become as good a philosopher as
you are a politician; and learn from a man who does not go to Elsner's
Preaching [fashionable at the time], that one must oppose to ill fortune
a brow of iron; and, during this life, renounce all happiness, all
acquisitions, possessions and lying shows, none of which will follow us
beyond the grave." [Ranke, iii. pp. 238-241.]

"By what points the Austrian-Saxon Armament will come through upon us?
Together will it be, or separately? Saxons from the Lausitz, Austrians
from Bohmen, enclosing us between two fires?"--were enigmatic questions
with Friedrich; and the Saxons especially are an enigma. But that come
they will, that these Pandours are their preliminary veiling-apparatus
as usual, is evident to him; and that he must not spend himself upon
Pandours; but coalesce, and lie ready for the main wrestle. So that from
April 28th, as above noticed, Friedrich has gone into cantonments, some
way up the Neisse Valley, westward of Neisse Town; and is calling in his
outposts, his detachments; emptying his Frontier Magazines;--abandoning
his Upper-Silesian Frontier more and more, and in the end altogether, to
the Pandour hordes; a small matter they, compared to the grand Invasion
which is coming on. Here, with shiftings up the Neisse Valley, he
lies till the end of May; watching Argus-like, and scanning with every
faculty the Austrian-Saxon motions and intentions, until at length they
become clear to him, and we shall see how he deals with them.

His own lodging, or head-quarter, most of this time (4th May-27th
May), is in the pleasant Abbey of Camenz (mythic scene of that
BAUMGARTEN-SKIRMISH business, in the First Silesian War). He has
excellent Tobias Stusche for company in leisure hours; and the outlook
of bright Spring all round him, flowering into gorgeous Summer, as he
hurries about on his many occasions, not of an idyllic nature. [Orlich,
ii. 139; Ranke, iii. 242-249.] But his Army is getting into excellent
completeness of number, health, equipment, and altogether such a spirit
as he could wish. May 22d, here is another snatch from some Note to
Podewils, from this balmy Locality, potential with such explosions of
another kind. CAMENZ, MAY 22d.... "The Enemies are making movements; but
nothing like enough as yet for our guessing their designs. Till we see,
therefore, the thunder lies quiet in us (LA FOUDRE REPOSE EN MES MAINS).
Ah, could we but have a Day like that May Eleventh!" [Ranke, iii. 248
n.]

What "that May Eleventh" is or was? Readers are curious to know;
especially English readers, who guess FONTENOY. And Historic Art, if she
were strict, would decline to inform them at any length; for really
the thing is no better than a "Victory on the Scamander, and a Siege of
Pekin" (as a certain observer did afterwards define it), in reference
to the matter now on hand! Well, Pharsalia, Arbela, the Scamander,
Armageddon, and so many Battles and Victories being luminous, by study,
to cultivated Englishmen, and one's own Fontenoy such a mystery and
riddle,--Art, after consideration, reluctantly consents to be indulgent;
will produce from her Paper Imbroglios a slight Piece on the subject,
and print instead of burning.

Chapter VIII.--THE MARTIAL BOY AND HIS ENGLISH versus THE LAWS OF
NATURE.

"Glorious Campaign in the Netherlands, Siege of Tournay, final ruin
of the Dutch Barrier!" this is the French program for Season 1745,--no
Belleisle to contradict it; Belleisle secure at Windsor, who might have
leant more towards German enterprises. And to this his Britannic Majesty
(small gain to him from that adroitness in the Harz, last winter!) has
to make front. And is strenuously doing so, by all methods; especially
by heroic expenditure of money, and ditto exposure of his Martial Boy.
Poor old Wade, last year,--perhaps Wade did suffer, as he alleged,
from "want of sufficient authority in that mixed Army"? Well, here is a
Prince of the Blood, Royal Highness of Cumberland, to command in
chief. With a Konigseck to dry-nurse him, may not Royal Highness, luck
favoring, do very well? Luck did not favor; Britannic Majesty, neither
in the Netherlands over seas, nor at home (strange new domestic wool, of
a tarry HIGHLAND nature, being thrown him to card, on the sudden!), made
a good Campaign, but a bad. And again a bad (1746) and again (1747),
ever again, till he pleased to cease altogether. Of which distressing
objects we propose that the following one glimpse be our last.

BATTLE OF FONTENOY (11th May, 1745).

... "In the end of April, Marechal de Saxe, now become very famous for
his sieges in the Netherlands, opened trenches before Tournay; King
Louis, with his Dauphin, not to speak of mistresses, play-actors and
cookery apparatus (in wagons innumerable), hastens to be there. A
fighting Army, say of 70,000, besides the garrisons; and great things,
it is expected, will be done; Tournay, in spite of strong works and
Dutch garrison of 9,000, to be taken in the first place.

"Of the Siege, which was difficult and ardent, we will remember nothing,
except the mischance that befell a certain 'Marquis de Talleyrand'
and his men, in the trenches, one night. Night of the 8th-9th May, by
carelessness of somebody, a spark got into the Marquis's powder, two
powder-barrels that there were; and, with horrible crash, sent eighty
men, Marquis Talleyrand and Engineer Du Mazis among them, aloft into the
other world; raining down their limbs into the covered way, where
the Dutch were very inhuman to them, and provoked us to retaliate.
[Espagnac, ii. 27.] Du Mazis I do not know; but Marquis de Talleyrand
turns out, on study of the French Peerages, to be Uncle of a lame little
Boy, who became Right Reverend Tallyrand under singular conditions, and
has made the name very current in after-times!--

"Hearing of this Siege, the Duke of Cumberland hastened over from
England, with intent to raise the same. Mustered his 'Allied Army' (once
called 'Pragmatic'),--self at the head of it; old Count Konigseck,
who was NOT burnt at Chotusitz, commanding the small Austrian quota
[Austrians mainly are gone laggarding with D'Ahremberg up the Rhine];
and a Prince of Waldeck the Dutch,--on the plain of Anderlecht near
Brussels, May 4th; [Anonymous, _Life of Cumberland,_ p. 180; Espagnac,
ii. 26.] and found all things tolerably complete. Upon which,
straightway, his Royal Highness, 60,000 strong let us say, set forth; by
slowish marches, and a route somewhat leftward of the great Tournay Road
[no place on it, except perhaps STEENKERKE, ever heard of by an English
reader]; and on Sunday, 9th May, [Espagnac, ii. 27.] precisely on the
morrow after poor Talleyrand had gone aloft, reached certain final
Villages: Vezon, Maubray, where he encamps, Briffoeil to rear; Camp
looking towards Tournay and the setting sun,--with Fontenoy short
way ahead, and Antoine to left of it, and Barry with its Woods to
right:--small peaceable Villages, which become famous in the Newspapers
shortly after. [Patch of Map at p. 440.] Royal Highness, resting here
at Vezon, is but some six or seven miles from Tournay; in low undulating
Country, woody here and there, not without threads of running water,
and with frequent Villages and their adjuncts: the part of it now
interesting to us lies all between the Brussels-Tournay Road and
the Scheld River,--all in immediate front of his Royal Highness,--to
southeastward from beleaguered Tournay, where said Road and River
intersect. How shall he make some impression on the Siege of Tournay?
That is now the question; and his Royal Highness struggles to manoeuvre
accordingly.

"Marechal de Saxe, whose habit is much that of vigilance, forethought,
sagacious precaution, singular in so dissolute a man, has neglected
nothing on this occasion. He knows every foot of the ground, having
sieged here, in his boyhood, once before. Leaving the siege-trenches at
Tournay, under charge of a ten or fifteen thousand, he has taken camp
here; still with superior force (56,000 as they count, Royal Highness
being only 50,000 ranked), barring Royal Highness's way. Tournay, or
at least the Marechal's trenches there, are on the right bank of the
Scheld; which flows from southeast, securing all on that hand. The broad
Brussels Highway comes in to him from the east;--north of that he has
nothing to fear, the ground being cut with bogs; no getting through
upon him, that way, to Tournay and what he calls the 'Under Scheld.' The
'Upper Scheld' too, avail them nothing. There is only that triangle
to the southeast, between Road and River, where the Enemy is now
manoeuvring in front of him, from which damage can well come; and he has
done his best to be secure there. Four villages or hamlets, close to
the Scheld and onwards to the Great Road,--Antoine, Fontenoy, Barry,
Ramecroix, with their lanes and boscages,--make a kind of circular base
to his triangle; base of some six or eight miles; with hollows in it,
brooks, and northward a considerable Wood [BOIS DE BARRY, enveloping
Barry and Ramecroix, which do not prove of much interest to us, though
the BOIS does of a good deal]. In and before each of those villages
are posts and defences; in Antoine and Fontenoy elaborate redoubts,
batteries, redans connecting: in the Wood (BOIS DE BARRY), an abattis,
or wall of felled trees, as well as cannon; and at the point of the
Wood, well within double range of Fontenoy, is a Redoubt, called of Eu
(REDOUTE D'EU, from the regiment occupying it), which will much concern
his Royal Highness and us. Saxe has a hundred pieces of cannon [say the
English, which is correct], consummately disposed along this space; no
ingress possible anywhere, except through the cannon's throat; torrents
of fire and cross-fire playing on you. He is armed to the teeth, as they
say; and has his 56,000 arranged according to the best rules of tactics,
behind this murderous line of works. If his Royal Highness think of
breaking in, he may count on a very warm reception indeed.

"Saxe is only afraid his Royal Highness will not. Outside of these
lines, with a 50,000 dashing fiercely round us, under any kind of
leading; pouncing on our convoys; harassing and sieging US,--our siege
of Toumay were a sad outlook. And this is old Austrian Konigseck's
opinion, too; though, they say, Waldeck and the Dutch (impetuous in
theory at least) opined otherwise, and strengthened Royal Highness's
view. Two young men against one old: 'Be it so, then!' His Royal
Highness, resolute for getting in, manoeuvres and investigates,
all Monday 10th; his cannon is not to arrive completely till night;
otherwise he would be for breaking in at once: a fearless young man,
fearless as ever his poor Father was; certainly a man SANS PEUY, this
one too; whether of much AVIS, we shall see anon.

"Tuesday morning early, 11th May, 1745, cannon being up, and
dispositions made, his Royal Highness sallies out; sees his men taking
their ground: Dutch and Austrians to the left, chiefly opposite Antoine;
English, with some Hanoverians, in the centre and to the right;
infantry in front, facing Fontenoy, cavalry to rear flanking the Wood
of Barry,--Konigseck, Ligonier and others able, assisting to plant
them advantageously; cannon going, on both sides, the while; radiant
enthusiasm, SANS PEUR ET SANS AVIS, looking from his Royal Highness's
face. He has been on horseback since two in the morning; cannon started
thundering between five and six,--has killed chivalrous Grammont over
yonder (the Grammont of Dettingen), almost at the first volley. And
now about the time when ploughers breakfast (eight A.M., no ploughing
hereabouts to-day!), begins the attack, simultaneously or in swift
succession, on the various batteries which it will be necessary to
attack and storm.

"The attacks took place; but none of them succeeded. Dutch and
Austrians, on the extreme left, were to have stormed Antoine by the edge
of the River; that was their main task; right skirt of them to help US
meanwhile with Fontenoy. And they advanced, accordingly; but found
the shot from Antoine too fierce: especially when a subsidiary battery
opened from across the River, and took them in flank, the Dutch and
Austrians felt astonished; and hastily drew aside, under some sheltering
mound or earthwork they had found for themselves, or prudently thrown
up the night before. There, under their earthwork, stood the Dutch
and Austrians; patiently expecting a fitter time,--which indeed never
occurred; for always, the instant they drew out, the batteries from
Antoine, and from across the River, instantly opened upon them, and they
had to draw in again. So that they stood there, in a manner, all day;
and so to speak did nothing but patiently expect when it should be time
to run. For which they were loudly censured, and deservedly. Antoine is
and remains a total failure on the part of the Dutch and Austrians.

"Royal Highness in person, with his English, was to attack
Fontenoy;--and is doing so, by battery and storm, at various points;
with emphasis, though without result. As preliminary, at an early stage
he had sent forward on the right, by the Wood of Barry, a Brigadier
Ingoldsby 'with Semple's Highlanders' and other force, to silence 'that
redoubt yonder at the point of the Wood,'--redoubt, fort, or whatever it
be (famous REDOUTE D'EU, as it turned out!),--which guards Fontenoy to
north, and will take us in flank, nay in rear, as we storm the cannon of
the Village. Ingoldsby, speed imperative on him, pushed into the Wood;
found French light-troops ('God knows how many of them!') prowling
about there; found the Redoubt a terribly strong thing, with ditch,
drawbridge, what not; spent thirty or forty of his Highlanders, in
some frantic attempt on it by rule of thumb;--and found 'He would need
artillery' and other things. In short, Ingoldsby, hasten what he might,
could not perfect the preparations to his mind, had to wait for this and
for that; and did not storm the Redoubt d'Eu at all; but hung fire, in
an unaccountable manner. For which he had to answer (to Court-Martial,
still more to the Newspapers) afterwards; and prove that it was
misfortune merely, or misfortune and stupidity combined. Too evident,
the REDOUTE D'EU was not taken, then or thenceforth; which might have
proved the saving of the whole affair, could Ingoldsby have managed it.
Royal Highness attacked Fontenoy, and re-attacked, furiously, thrice
over; and had to desist, and find Fontenoy impossible on those terms.

"Here is a piece of work. Repulsed at all those points; and on the left
and on the right, no spirit visible but what deserves repulse! His Royal
Highness blazes into resplendent PLATT-DEUTSCH rage, what we may call
spiritual white-heat, a man SANS PEUR at any rate, and pretty much SANS
AVIS; decides that he must and will be through those lines, if it please
God; that he will not be repulsed at his part of the attack, not he for
one; but will plunge through, by what gap there is [900 yards Voltaire
measures it (_OEuvres,_ xxviii. 150 (SIECLE DE LOUIS QUINZE, c. xv.
"BATAILLE DE FONTENOI,"--elaborately exact on all such points).)]
between Fontenoy and that Redoubt with its laggard Ingoldsby; and see
what the French interior is like! He rallies rapidly, rearranges;
forms himself in thin column or columns [three of them, I think,--which
gradually got crushed into one, as they advanced, under cannon-shot on
both hands),--wheeling his left round, to be rear, his right to be head
of said column or columns. In column, the cannon-shot from Fontenoy
on the left, and Redoubt d'Eu on our right, will tell less on us; and
between these two death-dealing localities, by the hollowest, least
shelterless way discoverable, we mean to penetrate: (Forward, my men,
steady and swift, till we are through the shot-range, and find men to
grapple with, instead of case-shot and projectile iron!' Marechal de
Saxe owned afterwards, 'He should have put an additional redoubt in that
place, but he did not think any Army would try such a thing' (cannon
batteries playing on each hand at 400 yards distance);--nor has any Army
since or before!

"These columns advance, however; through bushy hollows, water-courses,
through what defiles or hollowest grounds there are; endure the
cannon-shot, while they must; trailing their own heavy guns by hand, and
occasionally blasting out of them where the ground favors;--and do, with
indignant patience, wind themselves through, pretty much beyond direct
shot-range of either d'Eu or Fontenoy. And have actually got into the
interior mystery of the French Line of Battle,--which is not a little
astonished to see them there! It is over a kind of blunt ridge, or
rising ground, that they are coming: on the crown of this rising ground,
the French regiment fronting it (GARDES FRANCAISES as it chanced to
be) notices, with surprise, field-cannon pointed the wrong way; actual
British artillery unaccountably showing itself there. Regiment of GARDES
rushes up to seize said field-pieces: but, on the summit, perceives with
amazement that it cannot; that a heavy volley of musketry blazes into
it (killing sixty men); that it will have to rush back again, and report
progress: Huge British force, of unknown extent, is readjusting itself
into column there, and will be upon us on the instant. Here is news!

"News true enough. The head of the English column comes to sight, over
the rising ground, close by: their officers doff their hats, politely
saluting ours, who return the civility: was ever such politeness seen
before? It is a fact; and among the memorablest of this Battle. Nay
a certain English Officer of mark--Lord Charles Hay the name of him,
valued surely in the annals of the Hay and Tweeddale House--steps
forward from the ranks, as if wishing something. Towards whom [says the
accurate Espagnac] Marquis d'Auteroche, grenadier-lieutenant, with air
of polite interrogation, not knowing what he meant, made a step or two:
'Monsieur,' said Lord Charles (LORD CHARLES-HAY), 'bid your people fire
(FAITES TIRER VOS GENS)!' 'NON, MONSIEUR, NOUS NE TIRONS JAMAIS LES
PREMIERS (We never fire first).' [Espagnac, ii. 60 (of the ORIGINAL,
Toulouse, 1789); ii. 48 of the German Translation (Leipzig, 1774), our
usual reference. Voltaire, endlessly informed upon details this time,
is equally express: "MILORD CHARLES HAY, CAPITAINE AUX GARDES ANGLAISES,
CRIA: 'MESSIEURS DES GARDES FRANCAISES, TIREZ!' To which Count
d'Auteroche with a loud voice answered" &c. (_OEuvres,_ vol. xxviii.
p. 155.) See also _Souvenirs du Marquis de Valfons_ (edited by a
Grand-Nephew, Paris, 1860), p. 151;--a poor, considerably noisy and
unclean little Book; which proves unexpectedly worth looking at, in
regard to some of those poor Battles and personages and occurrences: the
Bohemian Belleisle-Broglio part, to my regret, if to no other person's,
has been omitted, as extinct, or undecipherable by the Grand-Nephew.]
After YOU, Sirs! Is not this a bit of modern chivalry? A supreme
politeness in that sniffing pococurante kind; probably the highest point
(or lowest) it ever went to. Which I have often thought of."

It is almost pity to disturb an elegant Historical Passage of this kind,
circulating round the world, in some glory, for a century past: but
there has a small irrefragable Document come to me, which modifies it a
good deal, and reduces matters to the business form. Lord Charles
Hay, "Lieutenant-Colonel," practical Head, "of the First Regiment
of Foot-guards," wrote, about three weeks after (or dictated in sad
spelling, not himself able to write for wounds), a Letter to his
Brother, of which here is an Excerpt at first hand, with only the
spelling altered:... "It was our Regiment that attacked the French
Guards: and when we came within twenty or thirty paces of them, I
advanced before our Regiment; drank to them [to the French, from the
pocket-pistol one carries on such occasions], and told them that we were
the English Guards, and hoped that they would stand till we came quite
up to them, and not swim the Scheld as they did the Mayn at Dettingen
[shameful THIRD-BRIDGE, not of wood, though carpeted with blue cloth
there]! Upon which I immediately turned about to our own Regiment;
speeched them, and made them huzza,"--I hope with a will. "An Officer
[d'Auteroche] came out of the ranks, and tried to make his men huzza;
however, there were not above three or four in their Brigade that did."
["Ath, May ye 20th, o.s." (to John, Fourth Marquis of Tweeddale, last
"Secretary of State for Scotland," and a man of figure in his day):
Letter is at Yester House, East Lothian; Excerpt PENES ME.]...

Very poor counter-huzza. And not the least whisper of that sublime
"After you, Sirs!" but rather, in confused form, of quite the reverse;
Hay having been himself fired into ("fire had begun on my left;" Hay
totally ignorant on which side first),--fired into, rather feebly, and
wounded by those D'Auteroche people, while he was still advancing with
shouldered arms;--upon which, and not till which, he did give it them:
in liberal dose; and quite blew them off the ground, for that day.
From all which, one has to infer, That the mutual salutation by hat was
probably a fact; that, for certain, there was some slight preliminary
talk and gesticulation, but in the Homeric style, by no means in the
Espagnac-French,--not chivalrous epigram at all, mere rough banter, and
what is called "chaffing;"--and in short, that the French Mess-rooms
(with their eloquent talent that way) had rounded off the thing into the
current epigrammatic redaction; the authentic business-form of it being
ruggedly what is now given. Let our Manuscript proceed.

"D'Auteroche declining the first fire,"--or accepting it, if ever
offered, nobody can say,--"the three Guards Regiments, Lord Charles's on
the right, give it him hot and heavy, 'tremendous rolling fire;' so that
D'Auteroche, responding more or less, cannot stand it; but has at once
to rustle into discontinuity, he and his, and roll rapidly out of the
way. And the British Column advances, steadily, terribly, hurling back
all opposition from it; deeper and deeper into the interior mysteries
of the French Host; blasting its way with gunpowder;--in a magnificent
manner. A compact Column, slowly advancing,--apparently of some 16,000
foot. Pauses, readjusts itself a little, when not meddled with; when
meddled with, has cannon, has rolling fire,--delivers from it, in fact,
on both hands such a torrent of deadly continuous fire as was rarely
seen before or since. 'FEU INFERNAL,' the French call it. The French
make vehement resistance. Battalions, squadrons, regiment after
regiment, charge madly on this terrible Column; but rush only on
destruction thereby. Regiment This storms in from the right, regiment
That from the left; have their colonels shot, 'lose the half of their
people;' and hastily draw back again, in a wrecked condition. The
cavalry-horses cannot stand such smoke and blazing; nor indeed, I think,
can the cavaliers. REGIMENT DU ROI rushing on, full gallop, to charge
this Column, got one volley from it [says Espagnac] which brought to the
ground 460 men. Natural enough that horses take the bit between
their teeth; likewise that men take it, and career very madly in such
circumstances!

MAP Chap. VIII, Book 15, PAGE 440 GOES ABOUT HERE--------

"The terrible Column with slow inflexibility advances; cannon (now in
reversed position) from that Redoubt d'Eu ('Shame on you, Ingoldsby!'),
and irregular musketry from Fontenoy side, playing upon it; defeated
regiments making barriers of their dead men and firing there; Column
always closing its gapped ranks, and girdled with insupportable fire.
It ought to have taken Fontenoy and Redoubt d'Eu, say military men; it
ought to have done several things! It has now cut the French fairly in
two;--and Saxe, who is earnestly surveying it a hundred paces ahead,
sends word, conjuring the King to retire instantly,--across the Scheld,
by Calonne Bridge and the strong rear-guard there,--who, however, will
not. King and Dauphin, on horseback both, have stood 'at the Justice
(GALLOWS, in fact) of our Lady of the Woods,' not stirring much,
occasionally shifting to a windmill which is still higher,--ye Heavens,
with what intrepidity, all day!--'a good many country-folk in trees
close behind them.' Country-folk, I suppose, have by this time seen
enough, and are copiously making off: but the King will not, though
things do look dubious.

"In fact, the Battle hangs now upon a hair; the Battle is as good as
lost, thinks Marechal de Saxe. His battle-lines torn in two in that
manner, hovering in ragged clouds over the field, what hope is there in
the Battle? Fontenoy is firing blank, this some time; its cannon-balls
done. Officers, in Antoine, are about withdrawing the artillery,--then
again (on new order) replacing it awhile. All are looking towards the
Scheld Bridge; earnestly entreating his Majesty to withdraw. Had the
Dutch, at this point of time, broken heartily in, as Waldeck was urging
them to do, upon the redoubts of Antoine; or had his Royal Highness the
Duke, for his own behoof, possessed due cavalry or artillery to act upon
these ragged clouds, which hang broken there, very fit for being swept,
were there an artillery-and-horse besom to do it,--in either of these
cases the Battle was the Duke's. And a right fiery victory it would
have been; to make his name famous; and confirm the English in their mad
method of fighting, like Baresarks or Janizaries rather than strategic
human creatures. [See, in Busching's _Magazin,_ xvi. 169 ("Your
illustrious 'Column,' at Fontenoy? It was fortuitous, I say; done like
janizaries;" and so forth), a Criticism worth reading by soldiers.]

"But neither of these contingencies had befallen. The Dutch-Austrian
wing did evince some wish to get possession of Antoine; and drew out a
little; but the guns also awoke upon them; whereupon the Dutch-Austrians
drew in again, thinking the time not come. As for the Duke, he had taken
with him of cannon a good few; but of horse none at all (impossible for
horse, unless Fontenoy and the Redoubt d'Eu were ours!)--and his horse
have been hanging about, in the Wood of Barry all this while, uncertain
what to do; their old Commander being killed withal, and their new a
dubitative person, and no orders left. The Duke had left no orders;
having indeed broken in here, in what we called a spiritual white-heat,
without asking himself much what he would do when in: 'Beat the French,
knock them to powder if I can!'--Meanwhile the French clouds are
reassembling a little: Royal Highness too is readjusting himself, now
got '300 yards ahead of Fontenoy,'--pauses there about half an hour, not
seeing his way farther.

"During which pause, Duc de Richelieu, famous blackguard man, gallops
up to the Marechal, gallops rapidly from Marechal to King; suggesting,
'were cannon brought AHEAD of this close deep Column, might not they
shear it into beautiful destruction; and then a general charge be made?'
So counselled Richelieu: it is said, the Jacobite Irishman, Count Lally
of the Irish Brigade, was prime author of this notion,--a man of tragic
notoriety in time coming. ["Thomas Arthur Lally Comte de Tollendal,"
patronymically "O'MULALLY of TULLINDALLY" (a place somewhere in
Connaught, undiscoverable where, not material where): see our
dropsical friend (in one of his wheeziest states), _King James's Irish
Army-List_ (Dublin, 1855), pp. 594-600.] Whoever was author of it,
Marechal de Saxe adopts it eagerly, King Louis eagerly: swift it becomes
a fact. Universal rally, universal simultaneous charge on both flanks
of the terrible Column: this it might resist, as it has done these two
hours past; but cannon ahead, shearing gaps through it from end to end,
this is what no column can resist;--and only perhaps one of Friedrich's
columns (if even that) with Friedrich's eye upon it, could make its
half-right-about (QUART DE CONVERSION), turn its side to it, and
manoeuvre out of it, in such circumstances. The wrathful English
column, slit into ribbons, can do nothing at manoeuvring; blazes and
rages,--more and more clearly in vain; collapses by degrees, rolls into
ribbon-coils, and winds itself out of the field. Not much chased,--its
cavalry now seeing a job, and issuing from the Wood of Barry to cover
the retreat. Not much chased;--yet with a loss, they say, in all, of
7,000 killed and wounded, and about 2,000 prisoners; French loss being
under 5,000.

"The Dutch and Austrians had found that the fit time was now come, or
taken time by the forelock,--their part of the loss, they said, was a
thousand and odd hundreds. The Battle ended about two o'clock of the
day; had begun about eight. Tuesday, 11th May, 1745: one of the hottest
half-day's works I have known. A thing much to be meditated by the
English mind.--King Louis stept down from the Gallows-Hill of Our Lady;
and KISSED Marechal de Saxe. Saxe was nearly dead of dropsy; could not
sit on horseback, except for minutes; was carried about in a wicker bed;
has had a lead bullet in his mouth, all day, to mitigate the intolerable
thirst. Tournay was soon taken; the Dutch garrison, though strong, and
in a strong place, making no due debate.

"Royal Highness retired upon Ath and Brussels; hovered about, nothing
daunted, he or his: 'Dastard fellows, they would not come out into the
open ground, and try us fairly!' snort indignantly the Gazetteers and
enlightened Public. [Old Newspapers.] Nothing daunted;--but, as it
were, did not do anything farther, this Campaign; except lose Gand, by
negligence VERSUS vigilance, and eat his victuals,--till called home
by the Rebellion Business, in an unexpected manner! Fontenoy was the
nearest approach he ever made to getting victory in a battle; but a
miss too, as they all were. He was nothing like so rash, on subsequent
occasions; but had no better luck; and was beaten in all his
battles--except the immortal Victory of Culloden alone. Which latter
indeed, was it not itself (in the Gazetteer mind) a kind of apotheosis,
or lifting of a man to the immortal gods,--by endless tar-barrels and
beer, for the time being?

"Old Marechal de Noailles was in this Battle; busy about the redans, and
proud to see his Saxe do well. Chivalrous Grammont, too, as we saw,
was there,---killed at the first discharge. Prince de Soubise too (not
killed); a certain Lord George Sackville (hurt slightly,--perhaps had
BETTER have been killed!)--and others known to us, or that will
be known. Army-Surgeon La Mettrie, of busy brain, expert with his
tourniquets and scalpels, but of wildly blusterous heterodox tongue and
ways, is thrice-busy in Hospital this night,--'English and French all
one to you, nay, if anything, the English better!' those are the Royal
orders:--La Mettrie will turn up, in new capacity, still blusterous, at
Berlin, by and by.

"The French made immense explosions of rejoicing over this Victory of
Fontenoy; Voltaire (now a man well at Court) celebrating it in prose and
verse, to an amazing degree (21,000 copies sold in one day); the whole
Nation blazing out over it into illuminations, arcs of triumph and
universal three-times-three:--in short, I think, nearly the heartiest
National Huzza, loud, deep, long-drawn, that the Nation ever gave in
like case. Now rather curious to consider, at this distance of time.
Miraculous Anecdotes, true and not true, are many. Not to mention again
that surprising offer of the first fire to us, what shall we say of the
'two camp-sutlers whom I noticed,' English females of the lowest degree;
'one of whom was busy slitting the gold-lace from a dead Officer, when a
cannon-ball came whistling, and shore her head away. Upon which, without
sound uttered, her neighbor snatched the scissors, and deliberately
proceeded.' [De Hordt, _Memoires,_ i. 108. A FRENCH OFFICER'S ACCOUNT
(translated in _Gentleman's Magazine,_ 1745; where, pp. 246, 250, 291,
313, &c., are many confused details and speculations on this subject).]
A deliberate gloomy people;--unconquerable except by French prowess,
glory to that same!"

Britannic Majesty is not successful this season; Highland Rebellions
rising on him, and much going awry. He is founding his National Debt,
poor Majesty; nothing else to speak of. His poor Army, fighting never so
well in Foreign quarrels,--and generally itself standing the brunt, with
the co-partners looking on till it is time to run (as at Roucoux again
next season, and at Lauffeld next),--can win nothing but hard knocks and
losses. And is defined by mankind,--in phraseology which we have heard
again since then!--as having "the heart of a Lion and the head of an
Ass." [Old Pamphlets, SOEPIUS.] Portentous to contemplate!--

Cape Breton was besieged this Summer, in a creditable manner; and taken.
The one real stroke done upon France this Year, or indeed (except at
sea) throughout the War. "Ruin to their Fisheries, and a clear loss of
1,400,000 pounds a year." Compared with which all these fine "Victories
in Flanders" are a bottle of moonshine. This was actually a kind of
stroke;--and this, one finds, was accomplished, under presidency of a
small squadron of King's ships, by ('New-England Volunteers," on funds
raised by subscription, in the way of joint-stock. A shining Colonial
feat; said to be very perfectly done, both scrip part of it, and
fighting part;) [Adelung, v. 32-35 ("27th June, 1745, after a siege of
forty-nine days"): see "Gibson, _Journal of the Siege;"_ "Mr. Prince
(of the South Church, Boston), THANKSGIVING SERMON (price fourpence);"
&c. &c.: in the Old Newspapers, 1745, 1748, multifarious Notices about
it, and then about the "repayment" of those excellent "joint-stock"
people.]--and might have yielded, what incalculable dividends in
the Fishery way! But had to be given up again, in exchange for the
Netherlands, when Peace came. Alas, your Majesty! Would it be
quite impossible, then, to go direct upon your own sole errand,
the JENKINS'S-EAR one, instead of stumbling about among the Foreign
chimney-pots, far and wide, under nightmares, in this terrible
manner?--Let us to Silesia again.

Chapter IX.--THE AUSTRIAN-SAXON ARMY INVADES SILESIA, ACROSS THE
MOUNTAINS.

Valori, who is to be of Friedrich's Campaign this Year, came posting off
directly in rear of the glorious news of Fontenoy; found Friedrich at
Camenz, rather in spirits than otherwise; and lodged pleasantly with
Abbot Tobias and him, till the Campaign should begin. Two things
surprise Valori: first, the great strength, impregnable as it were,
to which Neisse has been brought since he saw it last,--superlative
condition of that Fortress, and of the Army itself, as it gathers
daily more and more about Frankenstein here:--and then secondly, and
contrariwise, the strangely neglected posture of mountainous or Upper
Silesia, given up to Pandours. Quite submerged, in a manner: Margraf
Karl lies quiet among them at Jagerndorf, "eating his magazine;" General
Hautcharmoi (Winterfeld's late chief in that Wurben affair), with his
small Detachment, still hovers about in those Ratibor parts, "with
the Strong Towns to fall-back upon," or has in effect fallen back
accordingly; and nothing done to coerce the Pandours at all. While
Prince Karl and Weissenfels are daily coming on, in force 100,000, their
intention certain; force, say, about 100,000 regular! Very singular to
Valori.

"Sire, will not you dispute the Passes, then?" asks Valori, amazed: "Not
defend your Mountain rampart, then?" "MON CHER; the Mountain rampart is
three or four hundred miles long; there are twelve or twenty practicable
roads through it. One is kept in darkness, too; endless Pandour doggery
shutting out your daylight:--ill defending such a rampart," answers
Friedrich. "But how, then," persists Valori; "but--?" "One day the King
answered me," says Valori, "'MON AMI, if you want to get the mouse,
don't shut, the trap; leave the trap open (ON LAISSE LA SOURICIERE
OUVERTE)!'" Which was a beam of light to the inquiring thought of
Valori, a military man of some intelligence. [See VALORI, i. 222, 224,
228.]

That, in fact, is Friedrich's purpose privately formed. He means that
the Austrians shall consider him cowed into nothing, as he understands
they already do; that they shall enter Silesia in the notion of chasing
him; and shall, if need be, have the pleasure of chasing him,--till
perhaps a right moment arrive. For he is full of silent finesse, this
young King; soon sees into his man, and can lead him strange dances on
occasion. In no man is there a plentifuler vein of cunning, nor of a
finer kind. Lynx-eyed perspicacity, inexhaustible contrivance, prompt
ingenuity,--a man very dangerous to play with at games of skill. And
it is cunning regulated always by a noble sense of honor, too;
instinctively abhorrent of attorneyism and the swindler element: a
cunning, sharp as the vulpine, yet always strictly human, which is
rather beautiful to see. This is one of Friedrich's marked endowments.
Intellect sun-clear, wholly practical (need not be specially deep),
and entirely loyal to the fact before it; this--if you add rapidity
and energy, prompt weight of stroke, such as was seldom met with--will
render a man very dangerous to his adversary in the game of war.--Here
is the last of our Pandour Adventures for the present:--

"From May 12th, Friedrich had been gathering closer and closer about
Frankenstein; by the end of the month (28th, as it proved) he intends
that all Detachments shall be home, and the Army take Camp there. The
most are home; Margraf Karl, at Jagerndorf, has not yet done eating his
magazine; but he too must come home. Summon the Margraf home:--it is not
doubted he will cut himself through, he and his 12,000; but such is
the swarm of Pandours hovering between him and us, no estafette, or
cleverest letter-bearer, can hope to get across to him. Ziethen with 500
Hussars, he must take the Letter; there is no other way. Ziethen mounts;
fares swiftly forth, towards Neustadt, with his Letter; lodges in
woods; dodges the thick-crowding Tolpatcheries (passes himself off for a
Tolpatchery, say some, and captures Hungarian Staff-Officers who come to
give him orders [Frau van Blumenthal, _Life of De Ziethen,_ pp. 171-181
(extremely romantic; now given up as mythical, for most part): see
Orlich (ii. 150); but also Ranke (iii. 245), Preuss, &c.]); is at
length found out, and furiously set upon, 'Ziethen, Hah!'--but gets
to Jagerndorf, Margraf Karl coming out to the rescue, and delivers his
Letter. 'Home, then, all of us to-morrow!' And so, Saturday, 22d May,
before we get to Neustadt on the way home, there is an authentic passage
of arms, done very brilliantly by Margraf Karl against Pandours and
others.

"To right of us, to left, barring our road, the enemy, 20,000 of
them, stand ranked on heights, in chosen positions; cannon-batteries,
grenadiers, dragoons of Gotha and infinite Pandours: military jungle
bristling far and wide. And you must push it heartily, and likewise
cut the tap-root of it (seize its big guns), or it will not roll away.
Margraf Karl shoots forth his steady infantry ('Silent till you see
the whites of their eyes!'),--his cavalry with new manoeuvres; whose
behavior is worthy of Ziethen himself:--in brief, the jungle is struck
as by a whirlwind, the tap-root of it cut, and rolls simultaneously out
of range, leaving only the Regiment of Gotha, Regiment of Ogilvy and
some Regulars, who also get torn to shreds, and utterly ruined. Seeing
which, the Pandour jungle plunges wholly into the woods, uttering
horrible cries (EN POUSSANT DES CRIS TERRIBLES), says Friedrich.
[ _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iii. 106. More specially BERICHTE VON DER AM
22 MAI, 1745 BEY NEUSTADT IN OBER-SCHLESIEN VORGEFALLENER ACTION
(Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 159-166).] Our new cavalry-manoeuvres deserve
praise. Margraf Karl had the honor to gain his Cousin's approbation this
day; and to prove himself, says the Cousin, (worthy of the
grandfather he came from,'--my own great-grandfather; Great Elector,
Friedrich-Wilhelm; whose style of motion at Fehrbellin, or on the ice
of the Frische Haf (soldiers all in sledges, tearing along to be at the
Swedes), was probably somewhat of this kind."...

"Some days ago, Winterfeld had been pushed out to Landshut, with
Detachment of 2,000, to judge a little for himself which way the
Austrians were coming, and to scare off certain Uhlans (the SAXON
species of Tolpatchery), who were threatening to be mischievous
thereabouts. The Uhlans, at sound of Winterfeld, jingled away at once:
but, in a day or two, there came upon him, on the sudden, Pandour
outburst in quite other force;--and in the very hours while Ziethen was
struggling into Jagerndorf, and still more emphatically next day, while
Margraf Karl was handling his Pandours,--Colonel Winterfeld, a hundred
miles to westward lapped among the Mountains, chanced to be dealing
again with the same article. Very busy with it, from 4 o'clock this
morning; likely to give a good account of the job. Steadily defending
Landshut and himself, against the grenadier battalions, cannon and
furious overplus of Pandours (8,000 or 9,000, it is said, six to one
or so in the article of cavalry), which General Nadasti, a scientific
leader of men or Pandours, skilfully and furiously hurls upon Landshut
and him, in an unexpected manner. Colonel Winterfeld had need of all his
heart and energy, in the intricate ground; against the furious overplus
well manoeuvred: but in him too there are manoeuvres; if he fall
back here, it is to rush on double strong there; hour after hour he
inexpugnably defends himself,--till General Stille, Friedrich's old
Tutor, our worthy writing friend, whom we occasionally quote, comes up
with help; and Nadasti is at once brushed home again, with sore smart of
failure, and 'the loss of 600 killed,' among other items. [_Bericht von
der am 21 Mai, 1745 bey Landshut rorgefallener Action, in Feldzuge,_ i.
302-305 (or in Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 155-158); _OEuvres de
Frederic,_ iii. 105; Stille, pp. 120-124 (who misdates, "23d May" for
22d).] Colonel Winterfeld was made Major-General next day, for this
action. Colonel Winterfeld is cutting out a high course for himself,
by his conduct in these employments; solidity, brilliant effectuality,
shining through all he does; his valor and value, his rapid just
insight, fiery energy and nobleness of mind more and more disclosing
themselves,--to one who is a judge of men, and greatly needs for his own
use the first-rate quality in that article."

Friedrich has left the mouse-trap open;--and latterly has been baiting
it with a pleasant spicing of toasted cheese. One of his Spies,
reporting from Prince Karl's quarters, Friedrich has at this time
discovered to be a Double-Spy, reporting thither as well. Double-Spy,
there is an ugly fact;--perhaps not quite convenient to abolish it
by hemp and gibbet; perhaps it could be turned to use, as most facts
can? "Very good, my expert Herr von Schonfeld [that was the
knave's name]; and now of all things, whenever the Prince does get
across,--instant word to us of that! Nothing so important to us. If
he should get BETWEEN us and Breslau, for example, what would the
consequence be!" To this purport Friedrich instructs his Double-Spy;
sends him off, unhanged, to Prince Karl's Camp, to blab this fresh bit
of knowledge. "We likewise," says Friedrich, "ordered some repairs on
the roads leading to Breslau;"--last turn of the hand to our bit of
toasted fragrancy. And Prince Karl is actually striding forward, at
an eager pace:--and Nadasti VERSUS Winterfeld, the other day, could
Winterfeld have guessed it, was the actual vanguard of the march; and
will be up again straightway! Whereupon Winterfeld too is called home;
and all eyes are bent on the Landshut side.

Prince Karl, under these fine omens, had been urgent on the Saxons to be
swift; Saxons under Weissenfels did at last "get their cannon up,"
and we hear of them for certain, in junction with the Austrians, at
Schatzlar, on the Bohemian side of the Giant-Mountains; climbing with
diligence those wizard solitudes and highland wastes. In a word, they
roll across into Silesia, to Landshut (29th May); nothing doubting but