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History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 13 by Thomas Carlyle

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Campagnes du Roi de Prusse (English Translation, 12mo,
London, 1763), p. 5. An intelligent, desirable little Volume,--many
misprints in the English form of it.] At Landskron next day,
Friedrich, as appointed, met the Chevalier de Saxe (CHEVALIER,
by no means Comte, but a younger Bastard, General of the Saxon
Horse); and endeavored to concert everything: Prussian rendezvous
to be at Wischau, on the 5th next; thence straightway to meet the
Saxons at Trebitsch (convenient for that Iglau),--if only the
Saxons will keep bargain.

January 28th, past midnight, after another sore march, Friedrich
arrived at Olmutz; a pretty Town,--with an excellent old Bishop,
"a Graf von Lichtenstein, a little gouty man about fifty-two years
of age, with a countenance open and full of candor; [Stille, p. 8.]
in whose fine Palace, most courteously welcomed, the King lodged
till near the day of rendezvousing. We will leave him there, and
look westward a little; before going farther into the Moravian
Expedition. Friedrich himself is evidently much bent on this
Expedition; has set his heart on paying the Austrians for their
trickery at Klein-Schnellendorf, in this handsome way, and still
picking up the chance against them which Karl Albert squandered.
If only the French and Saxons would go well abreast with Friedrich,
and thrust home! But will they? Here is a surprising bit of news;
not of good omen, when it reaches one at Olmutz!

"LINZ, 24th JANUARY, 1742 [day otherwise remarkable]. After the
much barricading, and considerable defiance and bravadoing, by
Comte de Segur and his 10,000, he has lost this City in a
scandalous manner [not quite scandalous, but reckoned so by outside
observers]; and Linz City is not now Segur's, but Khevenhuller's.
To Khevenhuller's first summons M. de Segur had answered, 'I will
hang on the highest gallows the next man that comes to propose such
a thing!'--and within a week [Khevenhuller having seized the Donau
River to rear of Linz, and blasted off the Bavarian party there],
M. de Segur did himself propose it ('Free withdrawal: Not serve
against you for a year'); and is this day beginning to march out of
Linz." [ Campagnes des Trois Marechaux, iii.
280, &c.; Adelung, iii. A, p. 12, and p. 15 (a Paris street-song on
it).] Here is an example of defending Key-Positions! If Segur's be
the pattern followed, those Conquests on the Donau are like to go a
fine road!--

There came to Friedrich, in all privacy, during his stay in Olmutz
at this Bishop's, a Diplomatic emissary from Vienna, one Pfitzner;
charged with apologies, with important offers probably;--important;
but not important enough. Friedrich blames himself for being too
abrupt on the man; might perhaps have learned something from him by
softer treatment. [ OEuvres de Frederic, ii.
109.] After three days, Pfitzner had to go his ways again, having
accomplished nothing of change upon Friedrich.

Chapter IX.


On the day when Friedrich, overhung by the grim winter Mountains,
was approaching Glatz, same day when Segur was evacuating Linz on
those sad terms, that is, on the 24th day of January, 1742,--two
Gentlemen were galloping their best in the Frankfurt-Mannheim
regions; bearing what they reckoned glad tidings towards Mannheim
and Karl Albert; who is there "on a visit" (for good reasons),
after his triumphs at Prag and elsewhere. The hindmost of the two
Gentlemen is an Official of rank (little conscious that he is
preceded by a rival in message-bearing); Official Gentleman,
despatched by the Diet of Frankfurt to inform Karl Albert, That he
now is actually Kaiser of the Holy Romish Empire; votes, by aid of
Heaven and Belleisle, having all fallen in his favor. Gallop,
therefore, my Official Gentleman:--alas, another Gentleman,
Non-official, knowing how it would turn, already sat booted and
saddled, a good space beyond the walls of Frankfurt, waiting till
the cannon should fire; at the first burst of cannon, he (cunning
dog) gives his horse the spur; and is miles ahead of the toiling
Official Gentleman, all the way. [Adelung, iii. A, 52.]

In the dreary mass of long-winded ceremonial nothingnesses, and
intricate Belleisle cobwebberies, we seize this one poor speck of
human foolery in the native state, as almost the memorablest in
that stupendous business. Stupendous indeed; with which all Germany
has been in travail these sixteen months, on such terms! And in
verity has got the thing called "German Kaiser" constituted, better
or worse. Heavens, was a Nation ever so bespun by gossamer;
enchanted into paralysis, by mountains of extinct tradition, and
the want of power to annihilate rubbish! There are glittering
threads of the finest Belleisle diplomacy, which seem to go beyond
the Dog-star, and to be radiant, and irradiative, like paths of the
gods: and they are, seem what they might, poor threads of idle
gossamer, sunk already to dusty cobweb, unpleasant to poor human
nature; poor human nature concerned only to get them well swept
into the fire. The quantities of which sad litter, in this
Universe, are very great!--

Karl Albert, now at the top-gallant of his hopes: homaged Archduke
of Upper Austria, homaged King of Bohemia, declared Kaiser of the
German Nation,--is the highest-titled mortal going: and, poor soul,
it is tragical, once more, to think what the reality of it was for
him. Ejection from house and home; into difficulty, poverty,
despair; life in furnished lodgings, which he could not pay;--and
at last heart-break, no refuge for him but in the grave. All which
is mercifully hidden at present; so that he seems to himself a man
at the top-gallant of his wishes; and lives pleasantly, among his
friends, with a halo round his head to his own foolish sense
and theirs.

"Karl Albert, Kurfurst of Baiern [lazy readers ought to be
reminded], whose achievements will concern us to an unpleasant
extent, for some years, is now a lean man of forty-five; lean,
erect, and of middle stature; a Prince of distinguished look, they
say; of elegant manners, and of fair extent of accomplishment, as
Princes go. His experiences in this world, and sudden ups and
downs, have been and will be many. Note a few particulars of them;
the minimum of what are indispensable here.

"English readers know a Maximilian Kurfurst of Baiern, who took
into French courses in the great Spanish-Succession War; the Anti-
Marlborough Maximilian, who was quite ruined out by the Battle of
Blenheim; put under Ban of the Empire, and reduced to depend on
Louis XIV. for a living,--till times mended with him again;
till, after the Peace of Utrecht, he got reinstated in his
Territories; and lived a dozen years more, in some comparative
comfort, though much sunk in debt. Well, our Karl Albert is the son
of that Anti-Marlborough Kurfurst Maximilian; eldest surviving son;
a daughter of the great Sobieski of Poland was his mother. Nay, he
is great-grandson of another still more distinguished Maximilian,
him of the Thirty-Years War,--(who took the Jesuits to his very
heart, and let loose Ate on his poor Country for the sake of them,
in a determined manner; and was the First of all the Bavarian
KURFURSTS, mere Dukes till then; having got for himself the poor
Winter-King's Electorship, or split it into two as ultimately
settled, out of that bad Business),--great-grandson, we say, of
that forcible questionable First Kurfurst Max; and descends from
Kaiser Ludwig, 'Ludwig the BAIER,' if that is much advantage
to him.

"In his young time he had a hard upcoming; seven years old at the
Battle of Blenheim, and Papa living abroad under Louis XIV.'s
shelter, the poor Boy was taken charge of by the victorious
Austrian Kaisers, and brought up in remote Austrian Towns, as a
young 'Graf von Wittelsbach' (nothing but his family name left
him), mere Graf and private nobleman henceforth. However, fortune
took the turn we know, and he became Prince again; nothing the
worse for this Spartan part of his breeding. He made the Grand
Tour, Italy, France, perhaps more than once; saw, felt, and tasted;
served slightly, at a Siege of Belgrade (one of the many Sieges of
Belgrade);--wedded, in 1722, a Daughter of the late Kaiser
Joseph's, niece of the late Kaiser Karl's, cousin of Maria
Theresa's; making the due 'renunciations,' as was thought; and has
been Kurfurst himself for the last fourteen Years, ever since 1726,
when his Father died. A thrifty Kurfurst, they say, or at least has
occasionally tried to be so, conscious of the load of debts left on
him; fond of pomps withal, extremely polite, given to Devotion and
to BILLETS-DOUX; of gracious address, generous temper (if he had
the means), and great skill in speaking languages. Likes hunting a
little,--likes several things, we see!--has lived tolerably with
his Wife and children; tolerably with his Neighbors (though sour
upon the late Kaiser now and then); and is an ornament to Munchen,
and well liked by the population there. A lean, elegaut, middle-
sized gentleman; descended direct from Ludwig the ancient Kaiser;
from Maximilian the First Kurfurst, who walked by the light of
Father Lammerlein (LAMBKIN) and Compauy, thinking IT light from
Heaven; and lastly is son of Maximilian the Third Kurfurst, whom
learned English readers know as the Anti-Marlborough one, ruined
out by the Battle of Blenheim.

"His most important transaction hitherto has been the marriage with
Kaiser Joseph's Daughter;--of which, in Pollnitz somewhere, there
is sublime account; forgettable, all except the date (Vienna, 5th
October, 1722), if by chance that should concern anybody.
Karl Albert (KURPRINZ, Electoral Prince or Heir-Apparent, at that
time) made free renunciation of all right to Austrian Inheritances,
in such terms as pleased Karl VI., the then Kaiser; the due
complete 'renunciations' of inheriting in Austria; and it was hoped
he would at once sign the Pragmatic Sanction, when published;
but he has steadily refused to do so; 'I renounced for my Wife,'
says Kurfurst Karl, 'and will never claim an inch of Austrian land
on her account; but my own right, derived from Kaiser Ferdinand of
blessed memory, who was Father of my Great-grandmother, I did not,
do not, never will renounce; and I appeal to HIS Pragmatic
Sanction, the much older and alone valid one, according to which,
it is not you, it is I that am the real and sole Heir of Austria.'

"This be says, and has steadily said or meant: 'It is I that am to
be King of Bohemia; I that shall and will inherit all your
Austrias, Upper, Under, your Swabian Brisgau or Hither Austria, and
what of the Tyrol remained wanting to me. Your Archduchess will
have Hungary, the Styrian-Carinthian Territories; Florence, I
suppose, and the Italian ones. What is hers by right I will be one
of those that defend for her; what is not hers, but mine, I will
defend against her, to the best of my ability!' This was privately,
what it is now publicly, his argument; from which he never would
depart; refusing always to accept Kaiser Karl's new Pragmatic
Sanction; getting Saxony (who likewise had a Ferdinand great-
grandmother) to refuse,--till Polish Election compelled poor
Saxony, for a time. Karl Albert had likewise secretly, in past
years, got his abstruse old Cousin of the Pfalz (who mended the
Heidelberg Tun) to back him in a Treaty; nay, still better, still
more secretly, had got France itself to promise eventual hacking:--
and, on the whole, lived generally on rather bad terms with the
late Kaiser Karl, his Wife's Uncle; any reconciliation they had
proving always of temporary nature. In the Rhenish War (1734), Karl
Albert, far from assisting the Kaiser, raised large forces of his
own; kept drilling them, in four or three camps, in an alarming
manner; and would not even send his Reich's Contingent (small body
of 3,000 he is by law bound to send), till he perceived the War was
just expiring. He was in angry controversy with the Kaiser,
claiming debts,--debts contracted in the last generation, and debts
going back to the Thirty-Years War, amounting to hundreds of
millions,--when the poor Kaiser died; refusing payment to the last,
nay claiming lands left HIM, he says, by Margaret Mouthpoke:
[Michaelis, ii. 260; Buchholz, ii. 9; Hormayr, Anemonen,
ii. 182; &c.] 'Cannot pay your Serene Highness (having
no money); and would not, if I could!' Leaving Karl Albert to
protest to the uttermost;"--which, as we ourselves saw in Vienna,
he at once honorably did.

Karl Albert's subsequent history is known to readers; except the
following small circumstance, which occurred in his late transit,
flight, or whatever we may call it, to Mannheim, and is pleasantly
made notable to us by Wilhelmina. "His Highness on the way from
Munchen," intimates our Princess, "passed through Baireuth in a
very bad post-chaise." This, as we elsewhere pick out, was on
January 16th; Karl Albert in post-haste for the marriage-ceremony,
which takes place at Mannheim to-morrow. [Adelung, iii. A, 51.]
"My Margraf, accidentally hearing, galloped after him, came up with
him about fifteen miles away: they embraced, talked half an hour;
very content, both." [Wilhelmina, ii. 334.]

And eight days afterwards, 24th January, 1742, busy Belleisle (how
busy for this year past, since we saw him in the OEil-de-Boeuf!)
gets him elected Kaiser;--and Segur, in the self-same hours, is
packing out of Linz; and one's Donau "Conquests," not to say one's
Munchen, one's Baiern itself, are in a fine way! The marriage-
ceremony, witnessed on the 17th, was one of the sublimest for
Kur-Pfalz and kindred; and it too had secretly a touch of tragedy
in it for the Poor Karl Albert. A double marriage: Two young
Princesses, Grand-daughters, priceless Heiresses, to old Kur-Pfalz;
married, one of them to Duke Clement of Baiern, Karl Albert's
nephew, which is well enough: but married, the other and elder of
them, to Theodor of Deux-Ponts, who will one day--could we pierce
the merciful veil--be Kurfurst of Baiern, and succeed our own
childless Son! [Michaelis, ii. 265.]

"Kaiser Karl VII.," such the style he took, is to be crowned
February 12th; makes sublime Public Entry into Frankfurt, with that
view, January 31st;--both ceremonies splendid to a wonder, in spite
of finance considerations. Which circumstance should little concern
us, were it not that Wilhelmina, hearing the great news (though in
a dim ill-dated state), decided to be there and see; did go;--and
has recorded her experiences there, in a shrill human manner.
Wishful to see our fellow-creatures (especially if bound to look at
them), even when they are fallen phantasmal, and to make persons of
them again, we will give this Piece; sorry that it is the last we
have of that fine hand. How welcome, in the murky puddle of
Dryasdust, is any glimpse by a lively glib Wilhelmina, which we
can discern to be human! Hear what Wilhelmina says (in a very
condensed form):--


Wilhelmina, in the end of January, 1742,--Karl Albert having shot
past, one day lately, in a bad post-chaise, and kindled the thought in her,--resolved to go and see him crowned at Frankfurt, by way of pleasure-excursion. We will, struggling to be briefer, speak in her person; and indicate withal where the very words are hers, and where ours.

The Marwitz, elder Marwitz, her poor father being wounded at
Mollwitz, [ Militair-Lexikon, iii. 23; and
Preussische Adels-Lexikon, iii. 365.] had
gone to Berlin to nurse him; but she returned just now,--not much
to my joy; I being, with some cause, jealous of that foolish minx.
The Duchess Dowager of Wurtemberg also came, sorrow on her;
a foolish talking woman, always cutting jokes, making eyes,
giggling and coquetting; "HAS some wit and manner, but wearies you
at last: her charms, now on the decline, were never so considerable
as rumor said; in the long-run she bores you with her French
gayeties and sprightliness: her character for gallantry is too
notorious. She quite corrupted Marwitz, in this and a subsequent
visit; turned the poor girl's head into a French whirligig, and
undermined any little moral principle she had. She was on the road
to Berlin,"--of which anon, for it is not quite nothing to us;--
"but she was in no hurry, and would right willingly have gone with
us." And it required all our female diplomacy to get her under way
again, and fairly out of our course. January 28th, SHE off to
Berlin; WE, same day, to Frankfurt-on-Mayn. [Wilhelmina, ii. 334;
see pp. 335, 338, 347, &c. for the other salient points
that follow.]

Coronation was to have been (or we Country-folk thought it was),
January 31st: Let us be there INCOGNITO, the night before; see it,
and return the day after. That was our plan. Bad roads, waters all
out; we had to go night and day;--reached the gates of Frankfurt,
30th January late. Berghover, our Legationsrath there, says we are
known everywhere; Coronation is not to be till February 12th! I was
fatigued to death, a bad cold on me, too: we turned back to the
last Village; stayed there overnight. Back again to Berghover, in
secret (A LA SOURDINE), next night; will see the Public Entry of
Karl Albert, which is to be to-morrow (not quite, my Princess;
January 31st for certain, [Adelung, iii. A, 63; &c. &c.] did one
the least care). "It was a very grand thing indeed (DES PLUS
SUPERBES); but I will not stop describing it. Masked ball that
night; where I had much amusement, tormenting the masks; not being
known to anybody. We next day retired to a small private House,
which Berghover had got for us, out of Town, for fear of being
discovered; and lodged there, waiting February 12th,
under difficulties."

The weather was bitterly cold; we had brought no clothes; my dames
and I nothing earthly but a black ANDRIENNE each (whatever that may
be), to spare bulk of luggage: strictest incognito was
indispensable. The Marwitzes, for giggling, raillery, French airs,
and absolute impertinence, were intolerable, in that solitary
place. We return to Frankfurt again; have balls and theatres, at
least: "of these latter I missed none. One evening, my head-dress
got accidentally shoved awry, and exposed my face for a moment;
Prince George of Hessen-Cassel, who was looking that way,
recognized me; told the Prince of Orange of it;--they are in our
box, next minute!"

Prince George of Hessen-Cassel, did readers ever hear of him
before? Transiently perhaps, in Friedrich's LETTERS TO HIS FATHER;
but have forgotten him again; can know him only as the outline of a
shadow. A fat solid military man of fifty; junior Brother of that
solid WILHELM, Vice-regent and virtual "Landgraf of Hessen"--(VICE
an elder and eldest Brother, FRIEDRICH, the now Majesty of Sweden,
who is actual Hereditary Landgraf, but being old, childless, idle,
takes no hold of it, and quite leaves it to Wilhelm),--of whom
English readers may have heard, and will hear. For it is Wilhelm
that hires us those "subsidized 6,000," who go blaring about on
English pay (Prince George merely Commandant of them); and Wilhelm,
furthermore, has wedded his Heir-Apparent to an English Princess
lately; [Princess Mary (age only about seventeen), 28th June, 1740;
Prince's name was Friedrich (became Catholic, 1749; WIFE made
family-manager in Consequence, &c. &c.).] which also (as the poor
young fellow became Papist by and by) costs certain English people,
among others, a good deal of trouble. Uncle George, we say, is
merely Commandant of those blaring 6,000; has had his own real
soldierings before this; his own labors, contradictions, in his
time; but has borne all patiently, and grown fat upon it, not
quarrelling with his burdens or his nourishments. Perhaps we may
transiently meet him again.

As to the Prince of Orange, him we have seen more than once in
times past: a young fellow in comparison, sprightly, reckoned
clever, but somewhat humpbacked; married an English Princess, years
ago ("Papa, if he were as ugly as a baboon!")--which fine Princess,
we find, has stopt short at Cassel, too fatigued on the present
occasion. "His ESPRIT," continues Wilhelmina, "and his
conversation, delighted me. His Wife, he said, was at Cassel;
he would persuade her to come and make my acquaintance;"--could
not; too far, in this cold season. "These two Serene Highnesses
would needs take me home in their carriage; they asked the Margraf
to let them stay supper: from that hour they were never out of our
house. Next morning, by means of them, the secret had got abroad.
Kur-Koln [lanky hook-nosed gentleman, richest Pluralist in the
Church] had set spies on us; next evening he came up to me, and
said, 'Madam, I know your Highness; you must dance a measure with
me!' That comes of one's head-gear getting awry! We had nothing for
it but to give up the incognito, and take our fate!"

This dancing Elector of Koln, a man still only entering his
forties, is the new Emperor's Brother: [Clement August (Hubner,
t. 134).] do readers wonder to see him dance, being an Archbishop?
The fact is certain,--let the Three Kings and the Eleven Thousand
Virgins say to it what they will. "He talked a long time with me;
presented to me the Princess Clemence his Niece [that is to say,
Wife of his Nephew ClemENT; one of the Two whom his now Imperial
Majesty saw married the other day], [Michaelis, ii. 256, 123;
Hubner, tt. 141, 134.] and then the Princess"--in fact, presented
all the three Sulzbach Princesses (for there is a youngest, still
to wed),--"and then Prince Theodor [happy Husband of the eldest],
and Prince Clement [ditto of the younger];" and was very polite
indeed. How keep our incognito, with all these people heaping
civilities upon us? Let us send to Baireuth for clothes, equipages;
and retire to our country concealment till they arrive.

"Just as we were about setting off thither, I waiting till the
Margraf were ready, the Xargraf entered, and a Lady with him;
who, he informed me, was Madame de Belleisle, the French
Ambassador's Wife:"--Wife of the great Belleisle, the soul of all
these high congregatings, consultations, coronations, who is not
Kaiser but maker of Kaisers: what is to be done!--"I had carefully
avoided her; reckoning she would have pretensions I should not be
in the humor to grant. I took my resolution at the moment [being a
swift decisive creature]; and received her like any other Lady that
might have come to me. Her visit was not long. The conversation
turned altogether upon praises of the King [my Brother]. I found
Madame de Belleisle very different from the notion I had formed of
her. You could see she had moved in high company (SENTAIT SON
MONDE); but her air appeared to me that of a waiting-maid
(SOUBRETTE), and her manners insignificant." Let Madame take that.

"Monseigneur himself," when our equipages had come, "waited on me
several times,"--Monseigueur the grand Marechal de Belleisle, among
the other Principalities and Lordships: but of this lean man in
black (who has done such famous things, and will have to do the
Retreat of Prag within year and day), there is not a word farther
said. Old Seckendorf too is here; "Reich's-Governor of
Philipsburg;" very ill with Austria, no wonder; and striving to be
well with the new Kaiser. Doubtless old Seckendorf made his visit
too (being of Baireuth kin withal), and snuffled his respects:
much unworthy of mention; not lovely to Wilhelmina. Prince of
Orange, hunchbacked, but sprightly and much the Prince, bore me
faithful company all the Coronation time; nor was George of Hessen-
Cassel wanting, good fat man.

Of the Coronation itself, though it was truly grand, and even of an
Oriental splendor,[ Anemonen, ubi supra.]
I will say nothing. The poor Kaiser could not enjoy it much. He was
dying of gout and gravel, and could scarcely stand on his feet.
Poor gentleman; and the French are driven dismally out of Linz;
and the Austrians are spreading like a lava-flood or general
conflagration over Baiern--Demon Mentzel, whom they call Colonel
Mentzel, he (if we knew it) is in Munchen itself, just as we are
getting crowned here! And unless King Friedrich, who is falling
into Mahren, in the flank of them, call back this Infernal Chase a
little, what hope is there in those parts!--The poor Kaiser,
oftenest in his bed, is courting all manner of German Princes,--
consulting with Seckendorfs, with cunning old stagers. He has
managed to lead my Margraf into a foolish bargain, about raising
men for him. Which bargain I, on fairly getting sight of it,
persuade my Margraf to back out of; and, in the end, he does so.
Meanwhile, it detains us some time longer in Frankfurt, which is
still full of Principalities, busy with visitings and ceremonials.

Among other things, by way of forwarding that Bargain I was so
averse to, our Official People had settled that I could not well go
without having seen the Empress, after her crowning. Foolish
people; entangling me in new intricacies! For if she is a Kaiser's
Daughter and Kaiser's Spouse, am not I somewhat too? "How a King's
Daughter and an Empress are to meet, was probably never settled by
example: what number of steps down stairs does she come?
The arm-chair (FAUTEUIL), is that to be denied me?" And numerous
other questions. The official people, Baireuthers especially, are
in despair; and, in fact, there were scenes. But I held firm;
and the Berlin ambassadors tempering, a medium was struck: steps of
stairs, to the due number, are conceded me; arm-chair no, but the
Empress to "take a very small arm-chair," and I to have a big
common chair (GRAND DOSSIER). So we meet, and I have sight of this
Princess, next day.

In her place, I confess I would have invented all manner of
etiquettes, or any sort of contrivance, to save myself from showing
face. "Heavens! The Empress is below middle size, and so corpulent
(PUISSANTE), she looks like a ball; she is ugly to the utmost
(LAIDE AU POSSIBLE), and without air or grace." Kaiser Joseph's
youngest Daughter,--the gods, it seems, have not been kind to her
in figure or feature! And her mind corresponds to her appearance:
she is bigoted to excess; passes her nights and days in her
oratory, with mere rosaries and gaunt superstitious platitudes of
that nature; a dark fat dreary little Empress. "She was all in a
tremble in receiving me; and had so discountenanced an air, she
could n't speak a word. We took seats. After a little silence, I
began the conversation, in French. She answered me in her Austrian
jargon, That she did not well understand that language, and begged
I would speak to her in German. Our conversation was not long.
Her Austrian dialect and my Lower-Saxon are so different that, till
you have practised, you are not mutually intelligible in them.
Accordingly we were not. A by-stander would have split with
laughing at the Babel we made of it; each catching only a word here
and there, and guessing the rest. This Princess was so tied to her
etiquette, she would have reckoned it a crime against the Reich to
speak to me in a foreign language; for she knew French well enough.

"The Kaiser was to have been of this visit; but he had fallen so
ill, he was considered even in danger of his life. Poor Prince,
what a lot had he achieved for himself!" reflects Wilhelmina, as we
often do. He was soft, humane, affable; had the gift of captivating
hearts. Not without talent either; but then of an ambition far
disproportionate to it. "Would have shone in the second rank, but
in the first went sorrowfully eclipsed," as they say! He could not
be a great man, nor had about him any one that could; and he needed
now to be so. This is the service a Belleisle can do; inflating a
poor man to Kaisership, beyond his natural size! Crowned Kaiser,
and Mentzel just entering his Munchen the while; a Kaiser bedrid,
stranded; lying ill there of gout and gravel, with the Demon
Mentzels eating him:--well may his poor little bullet of a
Kaiserinn pray for him night and day, if that will avail!--


I am sorry to say this is almost the last scene we shall get out of
Wilhelmina. She returns to Baireuth; breaks there conclusively that
unwise Frankfurt bargain; receives by and by (after several months,
when much has come and gone in the world) the returning Duchess of
Wurtemberg, effulgent Dowager "spoken of only as a Lais:" and has
other adventures, alluded to up and down, but not put in record by
herself any farther.--Sorrowfully let us hear Wilhelmina yet a
little, on this Lais Duchess, who will concern us somewhat.
Dowager, much too effulgent, of the late Karl Alexander, a Reichs-
Feldmarschall (or FOURTH-PART of one, if readers could remember)
and Duke of Wurtemberg,--whom we once dined with at Prag, in old
Friedrich-Wilhelm and Prince-Eugene times:--

"This Princess, very famous on the bad side, had been at Berlin to
see her three Boys settled there, whose education she [and the
STANDE of Wurtemberg, she being Regent] had committed to the King.
These Princes had been with us on their road thither, just before
their Mamma last time. The Eldest, age fourteen, had gone quite
agog (S'ETOIT AMOURACHE) about my little Girl, age only nine;
and had greatly diverted us by his little gallantries [mark that,
with an Alas!]. The Duchess, following somewhat at leisure, had
missed the King that time; who was gone for Mahren, January 18th.
... I found this Princess wearing pretty well. Her features are
beautiful, but her complexion is faded and very yellow. Her voice
is so high and screechy, it cuts your ears; she does not want for
wit, and expresses herself well. Her manners are engaging for those
whom she wishes to gain; and with men are very free. Her way of
thinking and acting offers a strange contrast of pride and
meanness. Her gallantries had brought her into such repute that I
had no pleasure in her visits." [Wilhelmina, ii. 335.] No pleasure;
though she often came; and her Eldest Prince, and my little
Girl-- Well, who knows!

Besides her three Boys (one of whom, as Reigning Duke, will become
notorious enough to Wilhelmina and mankind), the Lais Duchess has
left at Berlin--at least, I guess she has now left him, in exchange
perhaps for some other--a certain very gallant, vagabond young
Marquis d'Argens, "from Constantinople" last; originally from the
Provence countries; extremely dissolute creature, still young (whom
Papa has had to disinherit), but full of good-humor, of
gesticulative loyal talk, and frothy speculation of an Anti-Jesuit
turn (has written many frothy Books, too, in that strain, which are
now forgotten): who became a very great favorite with Friedrich,
and will be much mentioned in subsequent times.

"In the end of July," continues Wilhelmina, "we went to Stouccard
[Stuttgard, capital of Wurtemberg, O beautiful glib tongue!],
whither the Duchess had invited us: but--" And there we are on
blank paper; our dear Wilhelmina has ceased speaking to us:
her MEMOIRS end; and oblivious silence wraps the remainder!--

Concerning this effulgent Dowager of Wurtemberg, and her late ways
at Berlin, here, from Bielfeld, is another snatch, which we will
excerpt, under the usual conditions:

"BERLIN, FEBRUARY, 1742 [real date of all that is not fabulous in
Bielfeld, who chaotically dates it "6th December" of that Year].
... A day or two after this [no matter WHAT] I went to the German
Play, the only spectacle which is yet fairly afoot in Berlin.
In passing in, I noticed the Duchess Dowager of Wurtemberg, who had
arrived, during my absence, with a numerous and brilliant suite, as
well to salute the King and the Queens [King off, on his Moravian
Business, before she came], and to unite herself more intimately
with our Court, as to see the Three Princes her Children settled in
their new place, where, by consent of the States of Wurtemberg,
they are to be educated henceforth.

"As I had not yet had myself presented to the Duchess, I did not
presume to approach too near, and passed up into the Theatre.
But she noticed me in the side-scenes; asked who I was [such a
handsome fashionable fellow], and sent me order to come immediately
and pay my respects. To be sure, I did so; was most graciously
received; and, of course, called early next day at her Palace.
Her Grand-Chamberlain had appointed me the hour of noon. He now
introduced me accordingly: but what was my surprise to find the
Princess in bed; in a negligee all new from the laundress, and the
gallantest that art could imagine! On a table, ready to her hand,
at the DOSSIER or bed-bead, stood a little Basin silver-gilt,
filled with Holy Water: the rest was decorated with extremely
precious Relics, with a Crucifix, and a Rosary of rock-crystal.
Her dress, the cushions, quilt, all was of Marseilles stuff, in the
finest series of colors, garnished with superb lace. Her cap was of
Alencon lace, knotted witb a ribbon of green and gold. Figure to
yourself, in this gallant deshabille, a charming Princess, who has
all the wit, perfection of manner--and is still only thirty-seven,
with a beauty that was once so brilliant! Round the celestial bed
were courtiers, doctors, almoners, mostly in devotional postures;
the three young Princes; and a Dame d'Atours, who seemed to look
slightly ENNUYEE or bored." I had the honor to kiss her Serene
Highness's hand, and to talk a great many peppered insipidities
suitable to the occasion.

Dinner followed, more properly supper, with lights kindled:
"Only I cannot dress, you know," her Highness had said; "I never
do, except for the Queen-Mother's parties;"--and rang for her
maids. So that you are led out to the Anteroom, and go grinning
about, till a new and still more charming deshabille be completed,
and her Most Serene Highness can receive you again: "Now Messieurs!
Pshaw, one is always stupid, no ESPRIT at all except by
candlelight!"--After which, such a dinner, unmatchable for
elegance, for exquisite gastronomy, for Attic-Paphian brilliancy
and charm! And indeed there followed hereupon, for weeks on weeks,
a series of such unmatchable little dinners; chief parts, under
that charming Presidency, being done by "Grand-Chamberlain Baron
de" Something-or-other, "by your humble servant Bielfeld,
M. Jordan, and a Marquis d'Argens, famous Provencal gentleman now
in the suite of her Highness:" [Bielfeld, ii. 74-78.]--feasts of
the Barmecide I much doubt, poor Bielfeld being in this Chapter
very fantastic, MISDATEful to a mad extent; and otherwise, except
as to general effect, worth little serious belief.

We shall meet this Paphian Dowager again (Crucifix and Myrtle
joined): meet especially her D'Argens, and her Three little Princes
more or less;--wherefore, mark slightly (besides the D'Argens
as above):--

"1. The Eldest little Prince, Karl Eugen; made 'Reigning Duke'
within three years hence [Mamma falling into trouble with the
STANDE]: a man still gloomily famous in Germany [Poet Schiller's
Duke of Wurtemberg], of inarticulate, extremeIy arbitrary turn,--
married Wilhelmina's Daughter by and by [with horrible usage of
her]; and otherwise gave Friedrich and the world cause to think
of him.

"2. The Second little Prince, Friedrich Eugen, Prussian General of
some mark, who will incidentally turn up again, He was afterwards
Successor to the Dukedom [Karl Eugen dying childless]; and married
his Daughter to Paul of Russia, from whom descend the Autocrats
there to this day.

"3. Youngest little Prince, Ludwig Eugen, a respectable Prussian
Officer, and later a French one: he is that 'Duc de Wirtemberg' who
corresponds with Voltaire [inscrutable to readers, in most of the
Editions]; and need not be mentioned farther." [See Michaelis,
iii. 449; Preuss, i. 476; &c. &c.]

But enough of all this. It is time we were in Mahren, where the
Expedition must be blazing well ahead, if things have gone
as expected.

Chapter X.


While these Coronation splendors had been going on, Friedrich, in
the Moravian regions, was making experiences of a rather painful
kind; his Expedition prospering there far otherwise than he had
expected. This winter Expedition to Mahren was one of the first
Friedrich had ever undertaken on the Joint-stock Principle; and it
proved of a kind rather to disgust him with that method in affairs
of war.

A deeply disappointing Expedition. The country hereabouts was in
bad posture of defence; nothing between us and Vienna itself, in a
manner. Rushing briskly forward, living on the country where
needful, on that Iglau Magazine, on one's own Sechelles resources;
rushing on, with the Saxons, with the French, emulous on the right
hand and the left, a Captain like Friedrich might have gone far;
Vienna itself--who knows!--not yet quite beyond the reach of him.
Here was a way to check Khevenhuller in his Bavarian Operations,
and whirl him back, double-quick, for another object nearer home!--
But, alas, neither the Saxons nor the French would rush on, in the
least emulous. The Saxons dragged heavily arear; the French
Detachment (a poor 5,000 under Polastron, all that a captious
Broglio could be persuaded to grant) would not rush at all, but
paused on the very frontier of Moravia, Broglio so ordering, and
there hung supine, or indeed went home.

Friedrich remonstrated, argued, turned back to encourage; but it
was in vain. The Saxon Bastard Princes "lived for days in any
Schloss they found comfortable;" complaining always that there was
no victual for their Troops; that the Prussians, always ahead, had
eaten the country. No end to haggling; and, except on Friedrich's
part, no hearty beginning to real business. "If you wish at all to
be 'King of Moravia,' what is this!" thinks Friedrich justly.
Broglio, too, was unmanageable,--piqued that Valori, not Broglio,
had started the thing;--showed himself captious, dark, hysterically
effervescent, now over-cautious, and again capable of rushing
blindly headlong.

To Broglio the fact at Linz, which everybody saw to be momentous,
was overwhelming. Magnanimous Segur, and his Linz "all wedged with
beams," what a road have they gone! Said so valiantly they would
make defence; and did it, scarcely for four days: January 24th;
before this Expedition could begin! True, M. le Marechal, too
true:--and is that a reason for hanging back in this Mahren
business; or for pushing on in it, double-quick, with all one's
strength? "But our Conquests on the Donau," thinks Broglio, "what
will become of them,--and of us!" To Broglio, justly apprehensive
about his own posture at Prag and on the Donau, there never was
such a chance of at once raking back all Austrians homewards,
post-haste out of those countries. But Broglio could by no means
see it so,--headstrong, blusterous, over-cautious and hysterically
headlong old gentleman; whose conduct at Prag here brought
Strasburg vividly to Friedrich's memory. Upon which, as upon the
ghost of Broglio's Breeches, Valori had to hear "incessant
sarcasms" at this time.

In a word, from February 5th, when Friedrich, according to bargain,
rendezvoused his Prussians at Wischau to begin this Expedition,
till April 5th, when he re-rendezvoused them (at the same Wischau,
as chanced) for the purpose of ending it and going home,--
Friedrich, wrestling his utmost with Human Stupidity, "MIT DER
DUMMHEIT [as Schiller sonorously says], against which the very gods
are unvictorious," had probably two of the most provoking months of
his Life, or of this First Silesian War, which was fruitful in such
to him. For the common cause he accomplished nearly nothing by this
Moravian Expedition. But, to his own mind, it was rich in
experiences, as to the Joint-Stock Principle, as to the Partners he
now had. And it doubtless quickened his steps towards getting
personally out of this imbroglio of big French-German Wars,--home
to Berlin, with Peace and Silesia in his pocket,--which had all
along been the goal of his endeavors. As a feat of war it is by no
means worth detailing, in this place,--though succinct Stille, and
bulkier German Books give lucid account, should anybody chance to
be curious. [Stille, Campaigns of the King of Prussia,
i. 1-55; Helden-Geschichte, ii.
548-611; OEuvres de Frederic, ii. 110-114;
Orlich, ii.; &c. &c.] Only under the other aspect, as Friedrich's
experience of Partnership, and especially of his now Partners, are
present readers concerned to have, in brief form, some intelligible
notion of it.


Friedrich was punctual at Wischau; Head-quarters there (midway
between Olmutz and Brunn), Prussians all assembled, 5th February,
1742. Wischau is some eighty miles EAST or inward of Iglau; the
French and Saxons are to meet us about Trebitsch, a couple of
marches from that Teutschbrod of theirs, and well within one march
of Iglau, on our route thither. The French and Saxons are at
Trebitsch, accordingly; but their minds and wills seem to be far
elsewhere. Rutowsky and the Chevalier de Saxe command the Saxons
(20,000 strong on paper, 16,000 in reality); Comte de Polastron the
French, who are 5,000, all Horse. Along with whom, professedly as
French Volunteer, has come the Comte de Saxe, capricious Maurice
(Marechal de Saxe that will be), who has always viewed this
Expedition with disfavor. Excellency Valori is with the French
Detachment, or rather poor Valori is everywhere; running about,
from quarter to quarter, sometimes to Prag itself; assiduous to
heal rents everywhere; clapping cement into manifold cracks, from
day to day. Through Valori we get some interesting glimpses into
the secret humors and manoeuvres of Comte Maurice. It is known
otherwise Comte Maurice was no friend to Belleisle, but looked for
his promotion from the opposite or Noailles party, in the French
Court: at present, as Valori perceives, he has got the ear of
Broglio, and put much sad stuff into the loud foolish mind of him.

To these Saxon gentlemen, being Bastard-Royal and important to
conciliate, Friedrich has in a high-flown way assigned the Schloss
of Budischau for quarters, an excellent superbly magnificent
mansion in the neighborhood of Trebitsch, "nothing like it to be
seen except in theatres, on the Drop-scene of The
Enchanted Island;" [Stille, Campaigns, italic> p. 14.] where they make themselves so comfortable, says
Friedrich, there is no getting them roused to do anything for three
days to come. And yet the work is urgent, and plenty of it.
"Iglau, first of all," urges Friedrich, "where the Austrians,
10,000 or so, under Prince Lobkowitz, have posted themselves [right
flank of that long straggle of Winter Cantonments, which goes
leftwards to Budweis and farther], and made Magazines: possession
of Iglau is the foundation-stone of our affairs. And if we would
have Iglau WITH the Magazines and not without, surely there is not
a moment to be wasted!" In vain; the Saxon Bastard Princes feel
themselves very comfortable. It was Sunday the 11th of February,
when our junction with them was completed: and, instead of next
morning early, it is Wednesday afternoon before Prince Dietrich of
Anhalt-Dessau, with the Saxon and French party roused to join his
Prussians and him, can at last take the road for Iglau.
Prince Dietrich makes now the reverse of delay; marches all night,
"bivouacs in woods near Iglau," warming himself at stick-fires till
the day break; takes Iglau by merely marching into it and
scattering 2,000 Pandours, so soon as day has broken; but finds the
Magazines not there. Lobkowitz carted off what he could, then burnt
"Seventeen Barns yesterday;" and is himself off towards Budweis
Head-quarters and the Bohemian bogs again. This comes of lodging
Saxon royal gentlemen too well.


Nay, Iglau taken, the affair grows worse than ever. Our Saxons now
declare that they understand their orders to be completed;
that their Court did not mean them to march farther, but only to
hold by Iglau, a solid footing in Moravia, which will suffice for
the present. Fancy Friedrich; fancy Valori, and the cracks he will
have to fill! Friedrich, in astonishment and indignation, sends a
messenger to Dresden: "Would the Polish Majesty BE 'King of
Moravia,' then, or not be?" Remonstrances at Budischau rise higher
and higher; Valori, to prevent total explosion, flies over once, in
the dead of the night, to deal with Rutowsky and Brothers.
Rutowsky himself seems partly persuadable, though dreadfully ill of
rheumatism. They rouse Comte Maurice; and Valori, by this Comte's
caprices, is driven out of patience. "He talked with a flippant
sophistry, almost with an insolence" says Valori; "nay, at last, he
made me a gesture in speaking,"--what gesture, thumb to nose, or
what, the shuddering imagination dare not guess! But Valori,
nettled to the quick, "repeated it," and otherwise gave him as good
as he brought. "He ended by a gesture which displeased me"--"and
went to bed." [Valori, i. 148, 149.] This is the night of February
18th; third night after Iglau was had, and the Magazines in it gone
to ashes. Which the Saxons think is conquest enough.

Poor Polish Majesty, poor Karl Albert, above all, now "Kaiser Karl
VII.," with nothing but those French for breath to his nostrils!
With his fine French Army of the Oriflamme, Karl Albert should have
pushed along last Autumn; and not merely "read the Paper" which
Friedrich sent him to that effect, "and then laid it aside."
They will never have another chance, his French and he,--unless we
call this again a chance; which they are again squandering!
Linz went by capitulation; January 24th, the very day of one's
"Election" as they called it: and ever since that day of Linz, the
series of disasters has continued rapid and uniform in those parts.
Linz gone, the rest of the French posts did not even wait to
capitulate; but crackled all off, they and our Conquests on the
Donau, like a train of gunpowder, and left the ground bare.
And General von Barenklau (BEAR'S-CLAW), with the hideous fellow
called Mentzel, Colonel of Pandours, they have broken through into
Bavaria itself, from the Tyrol; climbing by Berchtesgaden and the
wild Salzburg Mountains, regardless of Winter, and of poor Bavarian
militia-folk;--and have taken Munchen, one's very Capital, one's
very House and Home!--Poor Karl Albert,--and, what is again
remarkable, it was the very day while he was getting "crowned" at
Frankfurt, "with Oriental pomp," that Mentzel was about entering
Munchen with his Pandours. [Coronation was February 12th;
Capitulation to Mentzel, "Munchen, February 13th," is in
Guerre de Boheme, ii. 56-59.] And this poor Archduke
of the Austrian, King of Bohemia, Kaiser of the Holy Romish Reich
Teutsch by Nation, is becoming Titular merely, and owns next to
nothing in these extensive Sovereignties. Judge if there is not
call for despatch on all sides!--The Polish Majesty sent instant
rather angry order to his Saxons, "Forward, with you; what else!
We would be King in Mahren!"

The Saxons then have to march forward; but we can fancy with what a
will. Rutowsky flings up his command on this Order (let us hope,
from rheumatism partly), and goes home; leaving the Chevalier de
Saxe to preside in room of him. As for Polastron, he produces Order
from Broglio, "Iglau got, return straightway;" must and will cross
over into Bohemia again; and does. Nay, the Comte de Saxe had,
privately in his pocket, a Commission to supersede Polastron, and
take command himself, should Polastron make difficulties about
turning back. Poor Polastron made no difficulties: Maurice and he
vanish accordingly from this Adventure, and only the unwilling
Saxons remain with Friedrich. Poor Polastron ("a poor weak
creature," says Friedrich, "fitter for his breviary than anything
else") fell sick, from the hardships of campaigning; and soon died,
in those Bohemian parts. Maurice is heard of, some weeks hence,
besieging Eger;--very handsomely capturing Eger: [19th April, 1742
( Guerre de Boheme, ii. 78-65).]--on which
service Broglio had ordered him after his return. The former
Commandant of the Siege, not very progressive, had just died; and
Broglio, with reason (all the more for his late Moravian
procedures) was passionate to have done there. One of the first
auspicious exploits of Maurice, that of Eger; which paved the way
to his French fortunes, and more or less sublime glories, in this
War. Friedrich recognizes his ingenuities, impetuosities, and
superior talent in war; wrote high-flown Letters of praises, now
and then, in years coming; but, we may guess, would hardly wish to
meet Maurice in the way of joint-stock business again.


February 19th, these sad Iglau matters once settled, Friedrich,
followed by the Saxons, plunges forward into Moravia;
spreads himself over the country, levying heavy contributions, with
strict discipline nevertheless; intent to get hold of Brunn and its
Spielberg, if he could. Brunn is the strong place of Moravia; has a
garrison of 6 or 7,000; still better, has the valiant Roth, whom we
knew in Neisse once, for Commandant: Brunn will not be had gratis.

Schwerin, with a Detachment of 6,000 horse and foot, Posadowsky,
Ziethen, Schmettau Junior commanding under him, has dashed along
far in the van; towards Upper Austria, through the Town of Horn,
towards Vienna itself; levying, he also, heavy contributions,--with
a hand of iron, and not much of a glove on it, as we judge.
There is a grim enough Proclamation (in the name of a "frightfully
injured Kaiser," as well as Kaiser's Ally), still extant, bearing
Schwerin's signature, and the date "STEIN, 26th Feb. 1742."
[In Helden-Geschichte, ii. 556.] Stein is on
the Donau, a mile or two from Krems, and twice as far from Mautern,
where the now Kaiser was in Autumn last. Forty and odd miles short
of Vienna: this proved the Pisgah of Schwerin in that direction, as
it had done of Karl Albert. Ziethen, with his Hussars coursed some
20 miles farther, on the Vienna Highway; and got the length of
Stockerau; a small Town, notable slightly, ever since, as the
Prussian NON-PLUS-ULTRA in that line.

Meanwhile, Prince Lobkowitz is rallying; has quitted Budweis and
the Bohemian Bogs, for some check of these insolences. Lobkowitz,
rallying to himself what Vienna force there is, comes, now in good
strength, to Waidhofen (rearward of Horn, far rearward of Stein and
Stockerau), so that Ziethen and Schwerin have to draw homeward
again. Lobkowitz fortifies himself in Waidhofen; gathers Magazines
there, as if towards weightier enterprises. For indeed much is
rallying, in a dangerous manner; and Moravia is now far other than
when Friedrich planned this Expedition. And at Vienna, 25th
February last, there was held Secret Council, and (much to
Robinson's regret) a quite high Resolution come to,--which
Friedrich gets to know of, and does not forget again.


Friedrich keeps his Head-quarter, all this while, closer and closer
upon Brunn. First, chiefly at a Town called Znaim, on the River
Taya; many-branched river, draining all those Northwestern parts;
which sends its widening waters down to Presburg,--latterly in
junction with those of the Morawa from North, which washes Olmutz,
drains the Northern and Eastern parts, and gives the Country its
name of "Moravia." Brunn lies northeast of Friedrich, while in
Znaim, some fifty miles; the Saxon head-quarter is at Kromau,
midway towards that City. After Znaim, he shifts inward, to
Selowitz, still in the same Taya Valley, but much nearer Brunn;
and there continues. [At Znaim, 19th February-9th March;
at Selowitz, 13th March-5th April (Rodenbeck, i. 65).]

Striving hard for Brunn; striving hard, under difficulties, for so
many things distant and near; we may fancy him busy enough;--and
are surprised at the fractions of light Jordan Correspondence which
he still finds time for. Pretty bits of Letters, in prose and
doggerel, from and to those Moravian Villages; Jordan, "twice a
week," bearing the main weight; Friedrich, oftener than one could
hope, flinging some word of answer,--very intent on Berlin gossip,
we can notice. "Vattel is still here, your Majesty,"
[ OEuvres, xvii. 163, &c.] insinuates Jordan:
--young Vattel, afterwards of the DROIT DES GENS, whom his Majesty
might have kept, but did not.--What more of your D'Argens, then;
anything in your D'Argens? Friedrich will ask. "For certain,
D'Argens is full of ESPRIT," answers Jordan, in a dexterous way;
and How the Effulgent of Wurtemberg" has quarrelled outright with
her D'Argens, and will not eat off silver (D'ARGENT), lest she have
to name him by accident!"--with other gossip, in a fine brief airy
form, at which Jordan excels. Cheering the rare leisure hour, in
one's Tent at Selowitz, Pohrlitz, Irrlitz, far away!--There are
also orders about CICERO and Books. Of Business for most part, or
of private feelings, nothing: Berlin gossip, and Books for one's
reading, are the staple. But to return.

Out from Head-quarters, diligent operations shoot forth, far
enough, along those Taya-Morawa Valleys, where Hungarian
"Insurgents" are beginning to be dangerous. South of Brunn, all
round Brunn, are diligent operations, frequent skirmishings,
constant strict levyings of contributions. The saving operation,
Friedrich well sees, would be to get hold of Brunn: but, unluckily,
How? Vigilant Roth scorns all summoning; sallies continually in a
dangerous manner; and at length, when closer pressed, burns all the
Villages round him: "we counted as many as sixteen villages laid in
ashes," says Friedrich. Here is small comfort of outlook.

And then the Saxons, at Kromau or wherever they may be: no end of
trouble and vexation with these Saxons. Their quarters are not
fairly allotted, they say; we make exchange of quarters, without
improvement noticeable. "One fine day, on some slight alarm, they
came rushing over to us, all in panic; ruined, merely by Pandour
noises, had not we marched them back, and reinstated them."
Friedrich sends to Silesia for reinforcemmts of his own, which he
can depend upon. Sends to Silesia, to Glatz and the Young Dessauer;
--nay to Brandenburg and the Old Dessauer? ultimately. Finding Roth
would not yield, he has sent to Dresden for Siege-Artillery:
Polish Majesty there, titular "King of Moravia," answers that he
cannot meet the expense of carriage. "He had just purchased a green
diamond which would have carried them thither and back again:"
What can be done with such a man?--And by this time, early in
March, Hungarian "MORIAMUR PRO REGE" begins to show itself.
Clouds of Hungarian Insurgents, of the Tolpatch, Pandour sort,
mount over the Carpathians on us, all round the east, from south to
north; and threaten to penetrate Silesia itself. So that we have to
sweep laboriously the Morawa-Taya Valleys; and undertake first one
and then another outroad, or sharp swift sally, against those
troublesome barbarians.

And more serious still, Prince Karl and the regular Army, quickened
by such Khevenhuller-Barenklau successes in the Donau Countries,
are beginning to stir. Prince Karl, returning from Vienna and its
consultations, took command, 4th March; [ Helden-
Geschichte, ii. 557.] with whom has come old Graf von
Konigseck, an experienced head to advise with; Prince Karl is in
motion, skirting us southward, about Waidhofen, where Lobkowitz lay
waiting him with Magazines ready. Rumor says, the force in those
parts is already 40,000, with more daily coming in. Friedrich has
of his own, apart from the Saxons, some 24,000. Prince Karl, with
so many heavy troops, and with unlimited supply of light, is very
capable of doing mischief: he has orders (and Friedrich now knows
of it) To go in upon us;--such their decision in Secret Council at
Vienna, on the 25th of February last, That he must go and fight
us:--"Better we met him with fewer thrums on our hands!" thinks
Friedrich; and beckons the Old Dessauer out of Brandenburg withal.
"Swift, your Serenity; hitherward with 20,000!" Which the Old
Dessauer (having 30,000 to pick from, late Camp-of-Gottin people)
at once sets about. Will be a security, in any event! [Orlich,
i. 221: Date of the Order, "13th March, 1742."] To finish with
Brunn, Friedrich has sent for Siege-Artillery of his own; he urges
Chevalier de Saxe to close with him round Brunn, and batter it
energetically into swift surrender. Is it not the one thing
needful? Chevalier de Saxe admits, half promises; does not perform.
Being again urged, Why have not you performed? he answers, "Alas,
your Majesty, here are Orders for me to join Marshal Broglio at
Prag, and retire altogether out of this!"

"Altogether out of it," thinks Friedrich to himself: "may all the
Powers be thanked! Then I too, without disgrace, can go altogether
out of it;--and it shall be a sharp eye that sees me in joint-stock
with you again, M. le Chevalier." Friedrich has written in his
HISTORY, and Valori used to hear him often say in words, Never were
tidings welcomer than these, that the Saxons were about to desert
him in this manner. Go: and may all the Devils-- But we will not
fall into profane swearing. It is proper to get out of this
Enterprise at one's best speed, and never get into the like of it
again! Friedrich (on this strange Saxon revelation, 30th March)
takes instant order for assembling at Wischau again, for departing
towards Olmutz; thence homewards, with deliberate celerity, by the
Landskron mountain-country, Tribau, Zwittau, Leutomischl, and the
way he came. He has countermanded his Silesian reinforcements;
these and the rest shall rendezvous at Chrudim in Bohemia;
whitherwards the two Dessauers are bound:--in Brunn, with its
wrecked environs, famed Spielberg looking down from its conical
height, and sixteen villages in ashes, Roth shall do his own
way henceforth.

The Saxons pushed straight homewards; did not "rejoin Broglio,"
rejoin anybody,--had, in fact, done with this First Silesian War,
as it proved; and were ready for the OPPOSITE side, on a Second
falling out! Their march, this time, was long and harassing,--sad
bloody passage in it, from Pandours and hostile Village-people,
almost at starting, "four Companies of our Rear-guard cut down to
nine men; Village burnt, and Villagers exterminated (SIC), by the
rescuing party." [Details in Helden-Geschichte, italic> ii. 606; in &c. &c.] They arrived at Leitmeritz and their
own Border, "hardly above 8,000 effective." Naturally, in a highly
indignant humor; and much disposed to blame somebody. To the poor
Polish NON-Moravian Majesty, enlightened by his Bruhls and Staff-
Officers, it became a fixed truth that the blame was all
Friedrich's,--"starving us, marching us about!"--that Friedrich's
conduct to us was abominable, and deserved fixed resentment.
Which accordingly it got, from the simple Polish Majesty, otherwise
a good-natured creature;--got, and kept. To Friedrich's very great
astonishment, and to his considerable disadvantage, long after!

Friedrich's look, when Valori met him again coming home from this
Moravian Futility, was "FAROUCHE," fierce and dark; his laugh
bitter, sardonic; harsh mockery, contempt and suppressed rage,
looking through all he said. A proud young King, getting instructed
in several things, by the stripes of experience. Look in that young
Portrait by Pesne, the full cheeks, and fine mouth capable of
truculence withal, the brow not unused to knit itself, and the eyes
flashing out in sharp diligent inspection, of a somewhat commanding
nature. We can fancy the face very impressive upon Valori in these
circumstances. Poor Valori has had dreadful work; running to and
fro, with his equipages breaking, his servants falling all sick,
his invaluable D'Arget (Valori's chief Secretary, whom mark) quite
disabled; and Valori's troubles are not done. He has been to Prag
lately; is returning futile, as usual. Driving through the
Mountains to rejoin Friedrich, he meets the Prussians in retreat;
learns that the Pandours, extremely voracious, are ahead; that he
had better turn, and wait for his Majesty about Chrudim in the Elbe
region, upon highways, and within reach of Prag.

Friedrich, on the 5th of April, is in full march out of the
Moravian Countries,--which are now getting submerged in deluges of
Pandours; towards the above-said Chrudim, whereabouts his Magazines
lie, where privately he intends to wait for Prince Karl, and that
Vienna Order of the 25th February, with hands clearer of thrums.
The march goes in proper columns, dislocations; Prince Dietrich, on
the right, with a separate Corps, bent else-whither than to
Chrudim, keeps off the Pandours. A march laborious, mountainous, on
roads of such quality; but, except baggage-difficulties and the
like, nothing material going wrong. "On the 13th [April], we
marched to Zwittau, over the Mountain of Schonhengst. The passage
over this Mountain is very steep; but not so impracticable as it
had been represented; because the cannon and wagons can be drawn
round the sides of it." [Stille, p. 86.] Yes;--and readers may (in
fancy) look about them from the top; for we shall go this road
again, sixteen years hence; hardly in happier circumstances!

Friedrich gets to Chrudim, April 17th; there meets the Young
Dessauer with his forces: by and by the Old Dessauer, too, comes to
an Interview there (of which shortly). The Old Dessauer--his 20,000
not with him, at the moment, but resting some way behind, till he
return--is to go eastward with part of them; eastward, Troppau-
Jablunka way, and drive those Pandour Insurgencies to their own
side of the Mountains: a job Old Leopold likes better than that of
the Gottin Camp of last year. Other part of the 20,000 is to
reinforce Young Leopold and the King, and go into cantonments and
"refreshment-quarters" here at Chrudim. Here, living on Bohemia,
with Silesia at their back, shall the Troops repose a little;
and be ready for Prince Karl, if he will come on. That is what
Friedrich looks to, as the main Consolation left.

In Moravia, now overrun with Pandours, precursors of Prince Karl,
he has left Prince Dietrich of Anhalt, able still to maintain
himself, with Olmutz as Head-quarters, for a calculated term of
days: Dietrich is, with all diligence, to collect Magazines for
that Jablunka-Troppau Service, and march thither to his Father with
the same (cutting his way through those Pandour swarms);
and leaving Mahren as bare as possible, for Prince Karl's behoof.
All which Prince Dietrich does, in a gallant, soldier-like, prudent
and valiant manner,--with details of danger well fronted, of prompt
dexterity, of difficulty overcome; which might be interesting to
soldier students, if there were among us any such species;
but cannot be dwelt upon here. It is a march of 60 or 70 miles
(northeast, not northwest as Friedrich's had been), through
continual Pandours, perils and difficulties:--met in the due way by
Prince Dietrich, whose toils and valors had been of distinguished
quality in this Moravian Business. Take one example, not of very
serious nature (in the present March to Troppau):--

"OLISCHAU, EVENING OF APRIL 21st. Just as we were getting into
Olischau [still only in the environs of Olmutz], the Vanguard of
Prince Karl's Army appeared on the Heights. It did not attack;
but retired, Olmutz way, for the night. Prince Dietrich, not
doubting but it would return next day, made the necessary
preparations overnight. Nothing of it returned next day; Prince
Dietrich, therefore, in the night of April 22d, pushed forward his
sick-wagons, meal-wagons, heavy baggage, peaceably to Sternberg;
and, at dawn on the morrow, followed with his army, Cavalry ahead,
Infantry to rear;" nothing whatever happening,--unless this be a
kind of thing:--"Our Infantry had scarcely got the last bridge
broken down after passing it, when the roofs of Olischau seemed as
it were to blow up; the Inhabitants simultaneously seizing that
moment, and firing, with violent diligence, a prodigious number of
shot at us,--no one of which, owing to their hurry and the
distance, took any effect;" [Stille, p. 50.] but only testified
what their valedictory humor was.

Or again--(Place, this time, is UNGARISCH-BROD, near Goding on the
Moravian-Hungarian Frontier, date MARCH 13th; one of those swift
Outroads, against Insurgents or "Hungarian Militias" threatening to
gather):-- ... "Godinq on our Moravian side of the Border, and then
Skalitz on their Hungarian, being thus finished, we make for
Ungarisch-Brod," the next nucleus of Insurgency. And there is the
following minute phenomenon,--fit for a picturesque human memory:
"As this, from Skalitz to Ungarisch-Brod, is a long march, and the
roads were almost impassable, Prince Dietrich with his Corps did
not arrive till after dark. So that, having sufficiently blocked
the place with parties of horse and foot, he had, in spite of
thick-falling snow, to wait under the open sky for daylight.
In which circumstances, all that were not on sentry lay down on
their arms;" slept heartily, we hope; "and there was half an ell of
snow on them, when day broke." [BERICHT VON DER UNTERNEHMUNG DES
&c. (in Seyfarth, Beylage, i. p. 508).]
When day broke, and they shook themselves to their feet again,--to
the astonishment of Ungarisch-Brod! ...

There had been fine passages of arms, throughout, in this Business,
round Brunn, in the March home, and elsewhere; and Friedrich is
well contented with the conduct of his men and generals,--and
dwells afterwards with evident satisfaction on some of the feats
they did. [For instance, TRUCHSESS VON WALDBURG'S fine bit of
Spartanism (14th March, at Lesch, near Brunn, near AUSTERLITZ
withal), which was much celebrated; King himself, from Selowitz,
heard the cannonading (Seyfarth, Beylage,
i. 518-520). Selchow's feat (ib. 521). Fouquet's (this is the
CAPTAIN Fonquet, with "MY two candles, Sir," of the old Custrin-
Prison time; who is dear to Friedrich ever since, and to the end):
"Account of Fouquet's Grenadier Battalion, to and at Fulnek,
January-April, 1742 (is in Feldzuge der Preussen, italic> i. 176-184); especially his March, from Fulnek, homewards,
part of Prince Dietrich's that way (in Seyfarth, Beylage,
i. 510-515). With various others (in SEYFARTH and
FELDZUGE): well worth reading till you understand them.] I am sorry
to say, General Schwerin has taken pique at this preference of the
Old Dessauer for the Troppau Anti-Pandour Operation; and is home in
a huff: not to reappear in active life for some years to come.
"The Little Marlborough,"--so they call him (for he was at
Blenheim, and has abrupt hot ways),--will not participate in Prince
Karl's consolatory Visit, then! Better so, thinks Friedrich perhaps
(remembering Mollwitz): "This is the freak of an imitation
ANGLAIS!" sneers he, in mentioning it to Jordan.--Friedrich's
Synopsis of this Moravian Failure of an Expedition, in answer to
Jordan's curiosity about it,--curiosity implied, not expressed by
the modest Jordan, is characteristic:--

"Moravia, which is a very bad Country, could not be held, owing to
want of victual; and the Town of Brunn could not be taken, because
the Saxons had no cannon; and when you wish to enter a Town, you
must first make a hole to get in by. Besides, the Country has been
reduced to such a state: that the Enemy cannot subsist in it, and
you will soon see him leave it. There is your little military
lesson; I would not have you at a loss what to think of our
Operations; or what to say, should other people talk of them in
your presence!" [Friedrich to Jordan ( OEuvres, italic> xvii. 196), Chrudim, 5th May, 1742.]

"Winter Campaigns," says Friedrich elsewhere, much in earnest, and
looking back on this thing long afterwards, "Winter Campaigns are
bad, and should always be avoided, except in cases of necessity.
The best Army in the world is liable to be ruined by them. I myself
have made more Winter Campaigns than any General of this Age;
but there were reasons. Thus:--

"In 1740," Winter Campaign which we saw, "there were hardly above
two Austrian regiments in Silesia, at Karl VI.'s death.
Being determined to assert my right to that Duchy, I had to try it
at once, in winter, and carry the war, if possible, to the Banks of
the Neisse. Had I waited till spring, we must have begun the war
between Crossen and Glogau; what was now to be gained by one march
would then have cost us three or four campaigns. A sufficient
reason, this, for campaigning in winter.

"If I did not succeed in the Winter Campaign of 1742," Campaign
which we have just got out of, "which I made with a design to
deliver the Elector of Bavaria's Country, then overrun by Austria,
it was because the French acted like fools, and the Saxons like
traitors." Mark that deliberate opinion.

"In 1745-46," Winter Campaign which we expect to see, "the
Austrians having got Silesia, it was necessary to drive them out.
The Saxons and they had formed a design to enter my Hereditary
Dominions, to destroy them with fire and sword. I was beforehand
with them. I carried the War into the heart of Saxony."
[MILITARY INSTRUCTIONS WRITTEN BY &c. "translated hy an Officer"
(London, 1762), pp. 171, 172. One of the best, or altogether tbe
best, of Friedrich's excellent little Books written successively
(thrice-PRIVATE, could they have been kept so) for the instruction
of his Officers. Is to be found now in OEuvres de
Frederic, xxviii. (that is vol. i. of the
"OEuvres Militaires," which occupy 3 vols.) pp. 4
et seqq.]

Digesting many bitter-enough thoughts, Friedrich has cantoned about
Chrudim; expecting, in grim composed humor, the one Consolation
there can now be. February 25th, as readers well know, the Majesty
of Hungary and her Aulic Council had decided, "One stroke more,
O Excellency Robinson; one Battle more for our Silesian jewel of
the crown! If beaten, we will then give it up; oh, not till then!"
Robinson and Hyndford,--imagination may faintly represent their
feelings, on the wilful downbreak of Klein-Schnellendorf; or what
clamor and urgency the Majesty of Britain and they have been making
ever since. But they could carry it no further: "One stroke more!"

At Chrudim, and to the right and the left of it, sprinkled about in
long, very thin, elliptic shape (thirty or forty miles long, but
capable of coalescing "within eight-and-forty hours"), there lies
Friedrich: the Elbe River is behind him; beyond Elbe are his
Magazines, at Konigsgratz, Nimburg, Podiebrad, Pardubitz; the Giant
Mountains, and world of Bohemian Hills, closing-in the background,
far off: that is his position, if readers will consult their Map.
The consolatory Visit, he privately thinks, cannot be till the
grass come; that is, not till June, two months hence; but there
also he was a little mistaken.

Chapter XI.


The Old Dessauer with part of his 20,000,--aided by Boy Dietrich
(KNABE, "Knave Dietrich," as one might fondly call him) and the
Moravian Meal-wagons,--accomplished his Troppau-Jablunka Problem
perfectly well; cleaning the Mountains, and keeping them clean, of
that Pandour rabble, as he was the man to do. Nor would his
Expedition require mentioning farther,--were it not for some slight
passages of a purely Biographical character; first of all, for
certain rubs which befell between his Majesty and him. For example,
once, before that Interview at Chrudim, just on entering Bohemia
thitherward, Old Leopold had seen good to alter his march-route;
and--on better information, as he thought it, which proved to be
worse--had taken a road not prescribed to him. Hearing of which,
Friedrich reins him up into the right course, in this
sharp manner:--

"CHRUDIM, 21st APRIL. I am greatly surprised that your Serenity, as
an old Officer, does not more accurately follow my orders which I
give you. If you were skilfuler than Caesar, and did not with
strict accuracy observe my orders, all else were of no help to me.
I hope this notice, once for all, will be enough; and that in time
coming you will give no farther causes to complain." [King to Furst
Leopold (Orlich, i. 219-221).]

Friedrich, on their meeting at Chrudim, was the same man as ever.
But the old Son of Gunpowder stood taciturn, rigorous, in military
business attitude, in the King's presence; had not forgotten the
passage; and indeed he kept it in mind for long months after.
And during all this Ober-Schlesien time, had the hidden grudge in
his heart;--doing his day's work with scrupulous punctuality;
all the more scrupulous, they say. Friedrich tried, privately
through Leopold Junior, some slight touches of assuagement;
but without effect; and left the Senior to Time, and to his own
methods of cooling again.

Besides that of keeping down Hungarian Enterprises in the
Mountains, Old Leopold had, as would appear, to take some general
superintendence in Ober-Schlesien; and especially looks after the
new Fortification-work going on in those parts. Which latter
function brought him often to Neisse, and into contact with the
ugly Walrave, Engineer-in-Chief there. A much older and much
worthier acquaintance of ours, Herr Boundary-Commissioner Nussler,
happens also to be in Neisse;--waiting for those Saxon Gentlemen;
who are unpunctual to a degree, and never come (nor in fact ever
will, if Nussler knew it). Luckily Nussler kept a Notebook; and
Busching ultimately got it, condensed it, printed it;--whereby
(what is rare, in these Dryasdust labyrinths, inane spectralities
and cinder-mountains) there is sudden eyesight vouchsafed;
and we discern veritably, far off, brought face to face for an
instant, this and that! I must translate some passages,--still
farther condensed:--


Nussler had been in this Country, off and on, almost since
Christmas last; ready here, if the Saxons had been ready. As the
Saxons were not ready, and always broke their appointment, Nussler
had gone into the Mountains, to pass time usefully, and take
preliminary view of the ground.

... "From Berlin, 20th December, 1741; by Breslau,"--where some
pause and correspondence;--"thence on, Neisse way, as far as Lowen
[so well known to Friedrich, that Mollwitz night!]. From Berlin to
Lowen, Nussler had come in a carriage: but as there was much snow
falling, he here took a couple of sledges; in which, along with his
attendants, he proceeded some fifty miles, to Jauernik, a stage
beyond Neisse, to the southwest. Jauernik is a little Town lying at
the foot of a Hill, on the top of which is the Schloss of
Johannisberg. Here it began to rain; and the getting up the Hill,
on sledges, was a difficult matter. The DROST [Steward] of this
Castle was a Nobleman from Brunswick-Luneburg; who, for the sake of
a marriage and this Drostship for dowry, had changed from
Protestant to Roman Catholic,"--poor soul! "His wife and he were
very polite, and showed Nussler a great deal of kindness.
Nussler remarked on the left side of this Johannisberg," western
side a good few miles off, "the pass which leads from Glatz to
Upper and Lower Schlesien,"--where the reader too has been, in that
BAUMGARTEN SKIRMISH, if he could remember it,--"with a little
Block-house in the bottom," and no doubt Prussian soldiers in it at
the moment. "Nussler, intent always on the useful, did not
institute picturesque reflections; but considered that his King
would wish to have this Pass and Block-house; and determined
privately, though it perhaps lay rather beyond the boundary-mark,
that his Master must have it when the bargaining should come. ...

"On the homeward survey of these Borders, Nussler arrived at
Steinau [little Village with Schloss, which we saw once, on the
march to Mollwitz, and how accident of fire devoured it that
night], and at sight of the burnt Schloss standing black there, he
remembered with great emotion the Story of Grafin von Callenberg
[dead since, with her pistols and brandy-bottle] and of the
Grafin's Daughter, in which he had been concerned as a much-
interested witness, in old times. ... For the rest, the journey,
amid ice and snow, was not only troublesome in the extreme, but he
got a life-long gout by it [and no profit to speak of];
having sunk, once, on thin ice, sledge and he, into a half-frozen
stream, and got wetted to the loins, splashing about in such cold
manner,--happily not quite drowned." The indefatigable Nussler;
working still, like a very artist, wherever bidden, on wages
miraculously low.

The Saxon Gentlemen never came;--privately the Saxons were quite
off from the Silesian bargain, and from Friedrich altogether;--so
that this border survey of Nussler's came to nothing, on the
present occasion. But it served him and Friedrich well, on a new
boundary-settling, which did take effect, and which holds to this
day. Nussler, during these operations, and vain waitings for the
Saxons, had Neisse for head-quarters; and, going and returning, was
much about Neisse; Walrave, Marwitz (Father of Wilhelmina's baggage
Marwitz), Feldmarschall Schwerin (in earlier stages), and other
high figures, being prominent in his circle there.

"The old Prince of Dessau came thither: for some days. [Busching,
Beitrage, i. 347 (beginning of May as we
guess, but there is no date given).] He was very gracious to
Nussler, who had been at his Court, and known him before this.
The Old Dessauer made use of Walrave's Plate; usually had Walrave,
Nussler, and other principal figures to dinner. Walrave's Plate,
every piece of it, was carefully marked with a RAVEN on the rim,--
that being his crest ["Wall-raven" his name]: Old Dessauer, at
sight of so many images of that bird, threw out the observation,
loud enough, from the top of the table, 'Hah, Walrave, I see you
are making yourself acquainted with the RAVENS in time, that they
may not be strange to you at last,'"--when they come to eat you on
the gibbet! (not a soft tongue, the Old Dessauer's). "Another day,
seeing Walrave seated between two Jesuit Guests, the Prince said:
'Ah, there you are right, Walrave; there you sit safe; the Devil
can't get you there!' As the Prince kept continually bantering him
in this strain, Walrave determined not to come; sulkily absented
himself one day: but the Prince sent the ORDINANZ (Soldier in
waiting) to fetch him; no refuge in sulks.

"They had Roman-Catholic victual for Walrave and others of that
faith, on the meagre-days; but Walrave eat right before him,--
evidently nothing but the name of Catholic. Indeed, he was a man
hated by the Catholics, for his special rapacity on them. 'He is of
no religion at all,' said the Catholic Prelate of Neisse, one day,
to Nussler; (greedy to plunder the Monasteries here; has wrung
gold, silver aud jewels from them,--nay from the Pope himself,--by
threatening to turn Protestant, and use the Monasteries still
worse. And the Pope, hearing of this, had to send him a valuable
Gift, which you may see some day.' Nussler did, one day, see this
preciosity: a Crucifix, ebony bordered with gold, and the Body all
of that metal, on the smallest of altars,--in Walrave's bedroom.
But it was the bedroom itself which Nussler looked at with a
shudder," Nussler and we: "in the middle of it stood Walrave's own
bed, on his right hand that of his Wife, and on his left that of
his Mistress:"--a brutish polygamous Walrave! "This Mistress was a
certain Quarter-Master's Wife,"--Quarter-Master willing, it is
probable, to get rid of such an article gratis, much more on terms
of profit. "Walrave had begged for him the Title of Hofrath from
King Friedrich,"--which, though it was but a clipping of ribbon
contemptible to Friedrich, and the brute of an Engineer had
excellent talents in his business, I rather wish Friedrich had
refused in this instance. But he did not; "he answered in gibing
tone, 'I grant you the Hofrath Title for your Quarter-Master;
thinking it but fit that a General's'--What shall we call her?
(Friedrich uses the direct word)--'should have some handle to her
name.'" [Busching, Beitrage, i. 343-348.]

It was this Mistress, one is happy to know, that ultimately
betrayed the unbeautiful Walrave, and brought him to Magdeburg for
the rest of his life.--And now let us over the Mountains, to
Chrudim again; a hundred and fifty miles at one step.

Chapter XII.


It was before the middle of May, not of June as Friedrich had
expected, that serious news reached Chrudim. May 11th, from that
place, there is a Letter to Jordan, which for once has no verse, no
bantering in it: Prince Karl actually coming on; Hussar precursors,
in quantity, stealing across to attack our Magazines beyond Elbe;--
and in consequence, Orders are out this very day: "Cantonments,
cease; immediate rendezvous, and Encampment at Chrudim here!"
Which takes effect two days hence, Monday, 13th May: one of the
finest sights Stille ever saw. "His Majesty rode to a height;
you never beheld such a scene: bright columns, foot and horse,
streaming in from every point of the compass, their clear arms
glittering in the sun; lost now in some hollow, then emerging,
winding out with long-drawn glitter again; till at length their
blue uniforms and actual faces come home to you. Near upon 30,000
of all arms; trim exact, of stout and silently good-humored aspect;
well rested, by this time;--likely fellows for their work, who will
do it with a will. The King seemed to be affected by so glorious a
spectacle; and, what I admired, his Majesty, though fatigued, would
not rest satisfied with reports or distant view, but personally
made the tour of the whole Camp, to see that everything was right,
and posted the pickets himself before retiring." [Stille, p. 57
(or Letter X.).]

Prince Karl, since we last heard of him, had hung about in the
Brunn and other Moravian regions, rallying his forces, pushing out
Croat parties upon Prince Dietrich's home-march, and the like; very
ill off for food, for draught-cattle, in a wasted Country. So that
he had soon quitted Mahren; made for Budweis and neighborhood:--
dangerous to Broglio's outposts there? To a "Castle of Frauenberg,"
across the Moldau from Budweis; which is Broglio's bulwark there,
and has cost Broglio much revictualling, reinforcing, and flurry
for the last two months. Prince Karl did not meddle with
Brauenberg, or Broglio, on this occasion; leaves Lobkowitz, with
some Reserve-party, hovering about in those parts;--and himself
advances, by Teutschbrod (well known to the poor retreating Saxons
latcey!) towards Chrudim, on his grand Problem, that of 25th
February last. Cautiously, not too willingly, old Konigseck and he.
But they were inflexibly urged to it by the Heads at Vienna;
who, what with their Bavarian successes, what with their Moravian
and other, had got into a high key;--and scorned the notion of
"Peace," when Hyndford (getting Friedrich's permission, in the late
Chrudim interval) had urged it again. [Orlich, i. 226.]

Broglio is in boundless flurry; nothing but spectres of attack
looming in from Karl, from Khevenhuller, from everybody; and Eger
hardly yet got. [19th April ( Guerre de Boheme, italic> ii. 77-81.] Fine reinforcement, 25,000 under a Due
d'Harcourt; this and other good outlooks there are; but it is the
terrible alone that occupy Broglio. And indeed the poor man--
especially ever since that Moravian Business would not thrive in
spite of him--is not to be called well off! Friedrich and he are in
correspondence, by no means mutually pleasant, on the Prince-Karl
phenomenon. "Evidently intending towards Prag, your Majesty
perceives!" thinks Broglio. "If not towards Chrudim, first of all,
which is 80 miles nearer him, on his rode to Prag!" urges
Friedrich, at this stage: "Help me with a few regiments in this
Chrudim Circle, lest I prove too weak here. Is not this the bulwark
of your Prag just now?" In vain; Broglio (who indeed has orders
that way) cannot spare a man. "Very well," thinks Friedrich;
and has girded up his own strength for the Chrudim phenomenon;
but does not forget this new illustration of the Joint-Stock
Principle, and the advantages of Broglio Partnership.

Friedrich's beautiful Encampment at Chrudim lasted only two days.
Precursor Tolpatcheries (and, in fact, Prince Karl's Vanguard, if
we knew it) come storming about, rifer and rifer; attempting the
Bridge of Kolin (road to our Magazines); attempting this and that;
meaning to get between us and Prag; and, what is worse, to seize
the Magazines, Podiebrad, Nimburg, which we have in that quarter!
Tuesday, May 15th, accordingly, Friedrich himself gets on march,
with a strong swift Vanguard, horse and foot (grenadiers, hussars,
dragoons), Prag-ward,--probably as far as Kuttenberg, a fine high-
lying post, which commands those Kodin parts;--will march with
despatch, and see how that matter is. The main Army is to follow
under Leopold of Anhalt-Dessau to-morrow, Wednesday," so soon as
their loaves have come from Konigsgratz,"--for "an Army goes on its
belly," says Friedrich often. Loaves do not come, owing to evil
chance, on this occasion: Leopold's people "take meal instead;"
but will follow, next morning, all the same, according to bidding.
Readers may as well take their Map, and accompany in these
movements; which issue in a notable conclusive thing.

Tuesday morning, 15th May, Friedrich marches from Chrudim; on which
same morning of the 15th, Prince Karl, steadily on the advance he
too, is starting,--and towards the same point,--from a place called
Chotieborz, only fifteen miles to southward of Chrudim. In this
way, mutually unaware, but Prince Karl getting soonest aware, the
Vanguards of the Two Armies (Prince Karl's Vanguard being in many
branches, of Tolpatch nature) are cast athwart each other;
and make, both to Friedrich and Prince Karl, an enigmatic business
of it for the next two days. Tuesday, 15th, Friedrich marching
along, vigilantly observant on both hands, some fifteen miles
space, came that evening to a Village called Podhorzan, with Height
near by; [Stille, pp. 60, 61.] Height which he judged unattackable,
and on the side of which he pitches his camp accordingly,--himself
mounting the Height to look for news. News sure enough:
there, south of us on the heights of Ronnow, three or four miles
off, are the Enemy, camped or pickeering about, 7 or 8,000 as we
judge. Lobkowitz, surely not Lobkowitz? He has been gliding about,
on the French outskirts, far in the southwest lately: can this be
Lobkowitz, about to join Prince Karl in these parts?--Truly, your
Majesty, this is not Lobkowitz at all; this is Prince Karl's
Vanguard, and Prince Karl himself actually in it for the moment,--
anxiously taking view of your Vanguard; recognizing, and admitting
to himself, "Pooh, they will be at Kuttenberg before us; no use in
hastening. Head-quarters at Willimow to-night; here at Ronnow
to-morrow: that is all we can do!" [Orlich, i. 233.]

To-morrow, 16th May, before sunrise at Podhorzan, the supposed
Lobkowitz is clean vanished: there is no Enemy visible to
Friedrich, at Ronnow or elsewhere. Leaving Friedrich in
considerable uncertainty: clear only that there are Enemies
copiously about; that he himself will hold on for Kuttenberg;
that young Leopold must get hitherward, with steady celerity at the
top of his effort,--parts of the ground being difficult; especially
a muddy Stream, called Dobrowa, which has only one Bridge on it fit
for artillery, the Bridge of Sbislau, a mile or two ahead of this.
Instructions are sent Leopold to that effect; and farther that
Leopold must quarter in Czaslau (a substantial little Town, with
bogs about it, and military virtues); and, on the whole, keep close
to heel of us, the Enemy in force being near, Upon which, his
Majesty pushes on for Kuttenberg; Prince Leopold following with
best diligence, according to Program. His Majesty passed a little
place called Neuhof that afternoon (Wednesday, 16th May);
and encamped a short way from Kuttenberg, behind or north of that
Town,--out of which, on his approach, there fled a considerable
cloud of Austrian Irregulars, and "left a large baking of bread."
Bread just about ready to their order, and coming hot out of the
ovens; which was very welcome to his Majesty that night; and will
yield refreshment, partial refreshment, next morning, to Prince
Leopold, not too comfortable on his meal-diet just now.

Poor Prince Leopold had his own difficulties this day; rough
ground, very difficult to pass; and coming on the Height of
Podhorzan where his Majesty was yesterday, Leopold sees crowds of
Hussars, needing a cannon-shot or two; sees evident symptoms, to
southward, that the whole Force of the Enemy is advancing upon him!
"Speed, then, for Sbislau Bridge yonder; across the Dobrowa, with
our Artillery-wagons, or we are lost!" Prince Karl, with Hussar-
parties all about, is fully aware of Prince Leopold and his
movements, and is rolling on, Ronnow-ward all day, to cut him off,
in his detached state, if possible. Prince Karl might, with ease,
have broken this Dobrowa Bridge; and Leopold and military men
recognize it as a capital neglect that he did not.

Leopold, overloaded with such intricacies and anxieties, sends off
three messengers, Officers of mark (Schmettau Junior one of them),
to apprise the King: the Officers return, unable to get across to
his Majesty; Leopold sends proper detachment of horse with them,--
uncertain still whether they will get through. And night is
falling; we shall evidently be too late for getting Czaslau:
well if we can occupy Chotusitz and the environs; a small clay
Hamlet, three miles nearer us. It was 11 at night before the rear-
guard got into Chotusitz: Czaslau, three miles south of us, we
cannot attend to till to-morrow morning. [Orlich, pp. 236-239.]
And the three messengers, despatched with escort, send back no
word. Have they ever got to his Majesty? Leopold sends off a
fourth. This fourth one does get through; reports to his Majesty,
That, by all appearance, there will be Battle on the morrow early;
that not Czaslau, but only Chotusitz is ours; and that Instructions
are wanted. Deep in the night, this fourth messenger returns;
a welcome awakening for Prince Leopold; who studies his Majesty's
Instructions, and will make his dispositions accordingly.

It is 2 or 3 in the morning, [Ib. p. 238.] in Leopold's Camp,--
Bivouac rather, with its face to the south, and Chotusitz ahead.
Thursday, 17th May, 1742; a furiously important Day about to dawn.
High Problem of the 23th February last; Britannic Majesty and his
Hyndfords and Robinsons vainly protesting:--it had to be tried;
Hungarian Majesty having got, from Britannic, the sinews for trying
it: and this is to be the Day.

Chapter XIII.


Kuttenberg, Czaslau, Chotusitz and all these other places lie in
what is called the Valley of the Elbe, but what to the eye has not
the least appearance of a hollow, but of an extensive plain rather,
dimpled here and there; and, if anything, rather sloping FROM the
Elbe,--were it not that dull bushless brooks, one or two,
sauntering to NORTHward, not southward, warn you of the contrary.
Conceive a flat tract of this kind, some three or four miles
square, with Czaslau on its southern border, Chotusitz on its
northern; flanked, on the west, by a straggle of Lakelets, ponds
and quagmires (which in our time are drained away, all but a tenth
part or so of remainder); flanked, on the east, by a considerable
puddle of a Stream called the Dobrowa; and cut in the middle by a
nameless poor Brook ("BRTLINKA" some write it, if anybody could
pronounce), running parallel and independent,--which latter, of
more concernment to us here, springs beyond Czaslau, and is got to
be of some size, and more intricate than usual, with "islands" and
the like, as it passes Chotusitz (a little to east of Chotusitz);--
this is our Field of Battle. Sixty or more miles to eastward of
Prag, eight miles or more to southward of Elbe River and the Ford
of Elbe-Teinitz (which we shall hear of, in years coming). A scene
worth visiting by the curious, though it is by no means of
picturesque character.

Uncomfortably bare, like most German plains; mean little hamlets,
which are full of litter when you enter them, lie sprinkled about;
little church-spires (like suffragans to Chotusitz spire, which is
near you); a ragged untrimmed country: beyond the Brook, towards
the Dobrowa, two or more miles from Chotusitz, is still noticeable:
something like a Deer-park, with umbrageous features, bushy clumps,
and shadowy vestiges of a Mansion, the one regular edifice within
your horizon. Schuschitz is the name of this Mansion and Deer-park;
farther on lies Sbislau, where Leopold happily found his Bridge
unbroken yesterday.

The general landscape is scrubby, littery; ill-tilled, scratched
rather than ploughed; physiognomic of Czech Populations, who are
seldom trim at elbows: any beauty it has is on the farther side of
the Dobrowa, which does not concern Prince Leopold, Prince Karl, or
us at present. Prince Leopold's camp lies east and west, short way
to north of Chotusitz. Schuschitz Hamlet (a good mile northward of
Sbislau) covers his left, the chain of Lakelets covers his right:
and Chotusitz, one of his outposts, lies centrally in front.
Prince Karl is coming on, in four columns, from the Hills and
intricacies south of Czaslau,--has been on march all night,
intending a night-attack or camisado if he could; but could not in
the least, owing to the intricate roadways, and the discrepancies
of pace between his four columns. The sun was up before anything of
him appeared:--drawing out, visibly yonder, by the east side of
Czaslau; 30,000 strong, they say. Friedrich's united force, were
Friedrich himself on the ground, will be about 28,000.

Friedrich's Orders, which Leopold is studying, were: "Hold by
Chotusitz for Centre; your left wing, see you lean it on something,
towards Dobrowa side,--on that intricate Brook (Brtlinka) or Park-
wall of Schuschitz, [SBISLAU, Friedrich hastily calls it
( OEuvres, ii. 121-126); Stille (p. 63) is
more exact.] which I think is there; then your right wing
westwards, till you lean again on something: two lines, leave room
for me and my force, on the corner nearest here. I will start at
four; be with you between seven and eight,--and even bring a
proportion of Austrian bread (hot from these ovens of Kuttenberg)
to refresh part of you." Leopold of Anhalt, a much-comforted man,
waits only for the earliest gray of the morning, to be up and
doing. From Chotusitz he spreads out leftwards towards the Brtlinka
Brook,--difficult ground that, unfit for cavalry, with its bog-
holes, islands, gullies and broken surface; better have gone across
the Brtlinka with mere infantry, and leant on the wall of that
Deer-park of Schuschitz with perhaps only 1,000 horse to support,
well rearward of the infantry and this difficult ground? So men
think,--after the action is over. [Stille, pp. 63, 67.] And indeed
there was certainly some misarrangement there (done by Leopold's
subordinates), which had its effects shortly.

Leopold was not there in person, arranging that left wing;
Leopold is looking after centre and right. He perceives, the right
wing will be his best chance; knows that, in general, cavalry must
be on both wings. On a little eminence in front of his right, he
sees how the Enemy comes on; Czaslau, lately on their left, is now
getting to rear of them:--"And you, stout old General Buddenbrock,
spread yourself out to right a little, hidden behind this rising
ground; I think we may outflank their left wing by a few squadrons,
which will be an advantage."

Buddenbrock spreads himself out, as bidden: had Buddenbrock been
reinforced by most of the horse that could do no good on our LEFT
wing, it is thought the Battle had gone better. Buddenbrock in this
way, secretly, outflanks the Austrians; to HIS right all forward,
he has that string of marshy pools (Lakes of Czirkwitz so called,
outflowings from the Brook of Neuhof), and cannot be taken in flank
by any means. Brook of Neuhof, which his Majesty crossed yesterday,
farther north;--and ought to have recrossed by this time?--said
Brook, hereabouts a mere fringe of quagmires and marshy pools, is
our extreme boundary on the west or right; Brook of Brtlinka
(unluckily NOT wall of the Deer-park) bounds us eastward, or on our
left, Prince Karl, drawn up by this time, is in two lines, cavalry
on right and left, but rather in bent order; bent towards us at
both ends (being dainty of his ground, I suppose); and comes on in
hollow-crescent form;--which is not reckoned orthodox by military
men. What all these Villages, human individuals and terrified deer,
are thinking, I never can conjecture! Thick-soled peasants,
terrified nursing-mothers: Better to run and hide, I should say;
mount your garron plough-horses, hide your butter-pots, meal-
barrels; run at least ten miles or so!--

It is now past seven, a hot May morning, the Austrians very near;--
and yonder, of a surety, is his Majesty coming. Majesty has marched
since four; and is here at his time, loaves and all. His men rank
at once in the corner left for them; one of his horse-generals,
Lehwald, is sent to the left, to put straight what my be awry there
(cannot quite do it, he either);--and the attack by Buddenhrock,
who secretly outflanks here on the right, this shall at once take
effect. No sooner has his Majesty got upon the little eminence or
rising ground, and scanned the Austrian lines for an instant or
two, than his cannon-batteries awaken here; give the Austrian horse
a good blast, by way of morning salutation and overture to the
concert of the day. And Buddenbrock, deploying under cover of that,
charges, "first at a trot, then at a gallop," to see what can be
done upon them with the white weapon. Old Uuddenbrock, surely, did
not himself RIDE in the charge? He is an old man of seventy;
has fought at Oudenarde, Malplaquet, nay at Steenkirk, and been run
through the body, under Dutch William; is an old acquaintance of
Charles XII.s even; and sat solemnly by Friedrich Wilhelm's coffin,
after so much attendance during life. The special leader of the
charge was Bredow; also a veteran gentleman, but still only in the
fifties; he, I conclude, made the charge; first at a trot, then at
a gallop,--with swords flashing hideous, and eyebrows knit.

"The dust was prodigious," says Friedrich, weather being dry and
ground sandy; for a space of time you could see nothing but one
huge whirlpool of dust, with the gleam of steel flickering madly in
it: however, Buddenbrock, outflanking the Austrian first line of
horse, did hurl them from their place; by and by you see the dust-
tempest running south, faster and faster south,--that is to say,
the Austrian horse in flight; for Buddenbrock, outflanking them by
three squadrons, has tumbled their first line topsy-turvy, and they
rush to rearward, he following away and away. [ OEuvres de
Frederic, ii. 123.] Now were the time for a fresh
force of Prussian cavalry,--for example, those you have standing
useless behind the gullies and quagmires on your left wing (says
Stille, after the event);--due support to Buddenbrock, and all that
Austrian cavalry were gone, and their infantry left bare.

But now again, see, do not the dust-clouds pause? They pause,
mounting higher and higher; they dance wildly, then roll back
towards us; too evidently back. Buddenbrock has come upon the
secoud line of Austrian horse; in too loose order Buddenbrock, by
this time, and they have broken him:--and it is a mutual defeat of
horse on this wing, the Prussian rather the worse of the two.
And might have been serious,--had not Rothenburg plunged furiously
in, at this crisis, quite through to the Austrian infantry, and
restored matters, or more. Making a confused result of it in this
quarter. Austrian horse-regiments there now were that fled quite
away; as did even one or two foot-regiments, while the Prussian
infantry dashed forward on them, escorted by Rothenburg in this
manner,--who got badly wounded in the business; and was long an
object of solicitude to Friedrich. And contrariwise certain
Prussian horse also, it was too visible, did not compose themselves
till fairly arear of our foot. This is Shock First in the Battle;
there are Three Shocks in all.

Partial charging, fencing and flourishing went on; but nothing very
effectual was done by the horse in this quarter farther. Nor did
the fire or effort of the Prussian Infantry in this their right
wing continue; Austrian fury and chief effort having, by this time,
broken out in an opposite quarter. So that the strain of the Fight
lies now in the other wing over about Chotusitz and the Brtlinka
Brook; and thither I perceive his Majesty has galloped, being
"always in the thickest of the danger" this day. Shock Second is
now on. The Austrians have attacked at Chotusitz; and are
threatening to do wonders there.

Prince Leopold's Left Wing, as we said, was entirely defective in
the eye of tacticians (after the event). Far from leaning on the
wall of the Deer-park, he did not even reach the Brook,--or had to
weaken his force in Chotusitz Village for that object. So that when
the Austrian foot comes storming upon Chotusitz, there is but "half
a regiment" to defend it. And as for cavalry, what is to become of
cavalry, slowly threading, under cannon-shot and musketry, these
intricate quagmires and gullies, and dangerously breaking into
files and strings, before ever it can find ground to charge?
Accordingly, the Austrian foot took Chotusitz, after obstinate
resistance; and old Konigseck, very ill of gout, got seated in one
of the huts there; and the Prussian cavalry, embarrassed to get
through the gullies, could not charge except piecemeal, and then
though in some cases with desperate valor, yet in all without
effectual result. Konigseck sits in Chotusitz;--and yet withal the
Russians are not out of it, will not be driven out of it, but cling
obstinately; whereupon the Austrians set fire to the place; its dry
thatch goes up in flame, and poor old Konigseck, quite lame of
gout, narrowly escaped burning, they say.

And, see, the Austrian horse have got across the Brtlinka, are
spread almost to the Deer-park, and strive hard to take us in
flank,--did not the Brook, the bad ground and the platoon-firing
(fearfully swift, from discipline and the iron ramrods) hold them
back in some measure. They make a violent attempt or two; but the
problem is very rugged. Nor can the Austrian infantry, behind or to
the west of burning Chotusitz, make an impression, though they try
it, with 1evelled bayonets and deadly energy, again and again:
the Prussian ranks are as if built of rock, and their fire is so
sure and swift. Here is one Austrian regiment, came rushing on like
lions; would not let go, death or no-death:--and here it lies, shot
down in ranks; whole swaths of dead men, and their muskets by them,
--as if they had got the word to take that posture, and had done it
hurriedly! A small transitory gleam of proud rage is visible, deep
down, in the soul of Friedrich as he records this fact. Shock
Second was very violent.

The Austrian horse, after such experimenting in the Brtlinka
quarter, gallop off to try to charge the Prussians in the rear;--
"pleasanter by far," judge many of them, "to plunder the Prussian
Camp," which they descry in those regions; whither accordingly they
rush. Too many of them; and the Hussars as one man. To the
sorrowful indignation of Prince Karl, whose right arm (or wing) is
fallen paralytic in this manner. After the Fight, they repented in
dust and ashes; and went to say so, as if with the rope about their
neck; upon which he pardoned them.

Nor is Prince Karl's left wing gaining garlands just at this
moment. Shock Third is awakening;--and will be decisive on Prince
Karl. Chotusitz, set on fire an hour since (about 9 A.M.), still
burns; cutting him in two, as it were, or disjoining his left wing
from his right: and it is on his right wing that Prince Karl is
depending for victory, at present; his left wing, ruffled by those
first Prussian charges of horse, with occasional Prussian swift
musketry ever since, being left to its own inferior luck, which is
beginning to produce impression on it. And, lo, on the sudden (what
brought finis to the business), Friedrich, seizing the moment,
commands a united charge on this left wing: Friedrich's right wing
dashes forward on it, double-quick, takes it furiously, on front
and flank; fifteen field-pieces preceding, and intolerable musketry
behind them. So that the Austrian left wing cannot stand it at all.

The Austrian left wing, stormed in upon in this manner, swags and
sways, threatening to tumble pell-mell upon the right wing; which
latter has its own hands full. No Chotusitz or point of defence to
hold by, Prince Karl is eminently ill off, and will be hurled
wholly into the Brtlinka, and the islands and gullies, unless he
mind! Prince Karl,--what a moment for him!--noticing this
undeniable phenomenon, rapidly gives the word for retreat, to avoid
worse. It is near upon Noon; four hours of battle; very fierce on
both the wings, together or alternately; in the centre (westward of
Chotusitz) mostly insignificant: "more than half the Prussians"
standing with arms shouldered. Prince Karl rolls rapidly away,
through Czaslau towards southwest again; loses guns in Czaslau;
goes, not quite broken, but at double-quick time for five miles;
cavalry, Prussian and Austrian, bickering in the rear of him; and
vanishes over the horizon towards Willimow and Haber that night,
the way he had come.

This is the battle of Chotusitz, called also of Czaslau: Thursday,
17th May, 1742. Vehemently fought on both sides;--calculated, one
may hope, to end this Silesian matter? The results, in killed and
wounded, were not very far from equal. Nay, in killed the Prussians
suffered considerably the worse; the exact Austrian cipher of
killed being 1,052, while that of the Prussians was 1,905,--owing
chiefly to those fierce ineffectual horse-charges and bickerings,
on the right wing and left; "above 1,200 Prussian cavalry were
destroyed in these." But, in fine, the general loss, including
wounded and missing, amounted on the Austrian side (prisoners being
many, and deserters very many) to near seven thousand, and on the
Prussian to between four and five. [Orlich, i. 255;
Feldzuge der Preussen, p. 113; Stille, pp. 62-71;
Friedrich himself, OEuvres, ii. 121-126;
and (ib. pp. 145-150) the Newspaper "RELATION," written also by
him.] Two Generals Friedrich had lost, who are not specially of our
acquaintance; and several younger friends whom he loved.
Rothenburg, who was in that first charge of horse with Buddenbrock,
or in rescue of Buddenbrock, and did exploits, got badly hurt, as
we saw,--badly, not fatally, as Friedrich's first terror was,--and
wore his arm in a sling for a long while afterwards.

Buddenbrock's charge, I since hear, was ruined by the DUST;
[ OEuvres de Frederic, ii. 121.] the King's
vanguard, under Rothenburg, a "new-raised regiment of Hussars in
green," coming to the rescue, were mistaken for Austrians, and the
cry rose, "Enemy to rear!" which brought Rothenburg his disaster.
Friedrich much loved and valued the man; employed him afterwards as
Ambassador to France and in places of trust. Friedrich's
Ambassadors are oftenest soldiers as well: bred soldiers, he finds,
if they chance to have natural intelligence, are fittest for all
kinds of work.--Some eighteen Austrian cannon were got;
no standards, because, said the Prussians, they took the precaution
of bringing none to the field, but had beforehand rolled them all
up, out of harm's way.--Let us close with this Fraction of
topography old aud new:--

"King Friedrich purchased Nine Acres of Ground, near Chotusitz, to
bury the slain; rented it from the proprietor for twenty-five
years. [ Helden-Geschichte, ii. 634.] I asked,
Where are those nine acres; what crop is now upon them? but could
learn nothing. A dim people, those poor Czech natives; stupid,
dirty-skinned, ill-given; not one in twenty of them speaking any
German;--and our dragoman a fortuitous Jew Pedler; with the
mournfulest of human faces, though a head worth twenty of those
Czech ones, poor oppressed soul! The Battle-plain bears rye,
barley, miscellaneous pulse, potatoes, mostly insignificant crops;
--the nine hero-acres in question, perhaps still of slightly richer
quality, lie indiscriminate among the others; their very fence, if
they ever had one, now torn away.

"The Country, as you descend by dusty intricate lanes from
Kuttenberg, with your left hand to the Elbe, and at length with
your back to it, would be rather pretty, were it well cultivated,
the scraggy litter swept off, and replaced by verdure and
reasonable umbrage here and there. The Field of Chotusitz, where
you emerge on it, is a wide wavy plain; the steeple of Chotusitz,
and, three or four miles farther, that of Czaslau (pronounce
'KOTusitz,' 'CHASlau'), are the conspicuous objects in it.
The Lakes Friedrich speaks of, which covered his right, and should
cover ours, are not now there,--'all, or mostly all, drained away,
eighty years ago,' answered the Czechs; answered one wiser Czech,
when pressed upon, and guessed upon; thereby solving the enigma
which was distressful to us. Between those Lakes and the Brtlinka
Brook may be some two miles; Chotusitz is on the crown of the
space, if it have a crown. But there is no 'height' on it, worth
calling a height except by the military man; no tree or bush;
no fence among the scrubby ryes and pulses: no obstacle but that
Brook, which, or the hollow of which, you see sauntering steadily
northward or Elbe-ward, a good distance on your left, as you drive
for Chotusitz and steeple. Schuschitz, a peaked brown edifice, is
visible everywhere, well ahead and leftwards, well beyond said
hollow; something of wood and 'deer-park' still noticeable or
imaginable yonder.

"Chotusitz itself is a poor littery place; standing white-washed,
but much unswept: in two straggling rows, now wide enough apart (no
Konigseck need now get burnt there): utterly silent under the hot
sun; not a child looked out on us, and I think the very dogs lay
wisely asleep. Church and steeple are at the farther or south end
of the Village, and have an older date than 1742. High up on the
steeple, mending the clock-hands or I know not what, hung in mid-
air one Czech; the only living thing we saw. Population may be
three or four hundred,--all busy with their teams or otherwise, we
will hope. Czaslau, which you approach by something of avenues, of
human roads (dust and litter still abounding), is a much grander
place; say of 2,000 or more: shiny, white, but also somnolent;
vast market-place, or central square, sloping against you:
two shiny Hotels on it, with Austrian uniforms loitering about;--
and otherwise great emptiness and silence. The shiny Hotels (shine
due to paint mainly) offer little of humanly edible; and, in the
interior, smells strike you as--as the OLDEST you have ever met
before. A people not given to washing, to ventilating! Many gospels
have been preached in those parts, aud abstruse Orthodoxies,
sometimes with fire and sword, and no end of emphasis; but that of
Soap-and-Water (which surely is as Catholic as any, and the
plainest of all) has not yet got introduced there!" [Tourist's Note
(13th September, 1858).]

Czaslau hangs upon the English mind (were not the ignorance so
total) by another tie: it is the resting-place of Zisca, whose
drum, or the fable of whose drum, we saw in the citadel of Glatz.
Zisca was buried IN his skin, at Czaslau finally: in the Church of
St. Peter and St. Paul there; with due epitaph; and his big mace or
battle-club, mostly iron, hung honorable on the wall close by.
Kaiser Ferdinand, Karl V.'s brother, on a Progress to Prag, came to
lodge at Czaslau, one afternoon: "What is that?" said the Kaiser,
strolling over this Peter-and-Paul's Church, and noticing the mace.
"Ugh! Faugh!" growled he angrily, on hearing what; and would not
lodge in the Town, but harnessed again, and drove farther that same
night. The club is now gone; but Zisca's dust lies there
irremovable till Doomsday, in the land where his limbs were made.
A great behemoth of a war-captain; one of the fiercest,
inflexiblest, ruggedest creatures ever made in the form of man.
Devoured Priests, with appetite, wherever discoverable:
Dishonorers of his Sister; murderers of the God's-witness John
Huss; them may all the Devils help! Beat Kaiser Sigismund SUPRA-
GRAMMATICAM again and ever again, scattering the Kitter hosts in an
extraordinary manner;--a Zisca conquerable only by Death, and the
Pest-Fever passing that way.

His birthplace, Troznow, is a village in the Budweis neighborhood,
100 miles to south. There, for three centuries after him, stood
"Zisca's Oak" (under shade of which, his mother, taken suddenly on
the harvest-field, had borne Zisca): a weird object, gate of Heaven
and of Orcus to the superstitious populations about. At midnight on
the Hallow-Eve, dark smiths would repair thither, to cut a twig of
the Zisca Oak: twig of it put, at the right moment, under your
stithy, insures good luck, lends pith to arm and heart, which is
already good luck. So that a Bishop of those parts, being of some
culture, had to cut it down, above a hundred years ago,--and build
some Chapel in its stead; no Oak there now, but an orthodox
Inscription, not dated that I could see. [Hormayr,
OEsterreichischer Plutarch, iii. (3tes), 110-145.]

Friedrich did not much pursue the Austrians after this Victory;
having cleared the Czaslau region of them, he continued there (at
Kuttenberg mainly); and directed all his industry to getting Peace
made. His experiences of Broglio, and of what help was likely to be
had from Broglio,--whom his Court, as Friedrich chanced to know,
had ordered "to keep well clear of the King of Prussia,"--had not
been flattering. Beaten in this Battle, Broglio's charity would
have been a weak reed to lean upon: he is happy to inform Broglio,
that though kept well clear of, he is not beaten.

MAP GOES HERE--- Book xiii, page 164----

Blustering Broglio might have guessed that HE now would have to
look to himself. But he did not; his eyes naturally dim and bad,
being dazzled at this time, by "an ever-glorious victory" (so
Broglio thinks it) of his own achieving. Broglio, some couple of
days after Czaslau, had marched hastily out of Prag for Budweis
quarter, where Lobkowitz and the Austrians were unexpectedly
bestirring themselves, and threatening to capture that "Castle of
Frauenberg" (mythic old Hill-castle among woods), Broglio's chief
post in those regions. Broglio, May 24th, has fought a handsome
skirmish (thanks partly to Belleisle, who chanced to arrive from
Frankfurt just in the nick of time, and joined Broglio): Skirmish
of Sahay; magnified in all the French gazettes into a Victory of
Sahay, victory little short of Pharsalia, says Friedrich;--the
complete account of which, forgotten now by all creatures, is to be
read in him they call Mauvillon; [ Guerre de Boheme,

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