This page contains affiliate links. As Amazon Associates we earn from qualifying purchases.
Language:
Form:
Genre:
Published:
  • 1858
Edition:
FREE Audible 30 days

aquiline glance transfixing him! “Alas, your Majesty, mere excess of loyalty, submission, devotion, on my poor part! Deign to think, may not this too,–in the present state of my King, of my Two Kings, and of all Europe,–be itself a kind of spheral thing?” So that the aquiline lightning was but momentary; and abated to lambent twinklings, with something even of comic in them, as we shall gather. Voltaire had his difficulties with Valori, too; “What interloping fellow is this?” gloomed Valori, “A devoted secretary of your Excellency’s; on his honor, nothing more!” answered Voltaire, bowing to the ground:–and strives to behave as such; giving Valori “these poor Reports of mine to put in cipher,” and the like. Very slippery ice hereabouts for the adroit man! His reports to Amelot are of sanguine tone; but indicate, to the by-stander, small progress; ice slippery, and a twinkle of the comic. Many of them are lost (or lie hidden in the French Archives, and are not worth disinterring): but here is one, saved by Beaumarchais and published long afterwards, which will sufficiently bring home the old scene to us. In the Palace of Berlin or else of Potsdam (date must be, 6th-8th September, 1743), Voltaire from his Apartment hands in a “Memorial” to Friedrich; and gets it back with Marginalia,–as follows:

“Would your Majesty be pleased to have the kind condescension (ASSEZ DE BONTE) to put on the margin your reflections and orders.”

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“1. Your Majesty is to know that the Sieur Bassecour [signifies BACKYARD], chief Burghermaster of Amsterdam, has come lately to beg M. de la Ville, French Minister there, to make Proposals of Peace. La Ville answered, If the Dutch had offers to make, the King his master could hear them.

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“1. This Bassecour, or Backyard, seems to be the gentleman that has charge of fattening the capons and turkeys for their High Mightinesses?

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“2. Is it not clear that the Peace Party will infallibly carry it, in Holland,–since Bassecour, one of the most determined for War, begins to speak of Peace? Is it not clear that France shows vigor and wisdom?

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“2. I admire the wisdom of France; but God preserve me from ever imitating it!

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“3. In these circumstances, if your Majesty took the tone of a Master, gave example to the Princes of the Empire in assembling an Army of Neutrality,–would not you snatch the sceptre of Europe from the hands of the English, who now brave you, and speak in an insolent revolting manner of your Majesty, as do, in Holland also, the party of the Bentincks, the Fagels, the Opdams? I have myself heard them, and am reporting nothing but what is very true.

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“3. This would be finer in an ode than in actual reality. I disturb myself very little about what the Dutch and English say, the rather as I understand nothing of those dialects (PATOIS) of theirs.

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“4. Do not you cover yourself with an immortal glory in declaring yourself, with effect, the protector of the Empire? And is it not of most pressing interest to your Majesty, to hinder the English from making your Enemy the Grand-Duke [Maria Theresa’s Husband] King of the Romans?

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“4. France has more interest than Prussia to hinder that. Besides, on this point, dear Voltaire, you are ill informed. For there can be no Election of a King of the Romans without the unanimous consent of the Empire;–so you perceive, that always depends on me.

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“5. Whoever has spoken but a quarter of an hour to the Duke d’Ahremberg [who spilt Lord Stair’s fine enterprises lately, and reduced them to a DETTINGEN, or a getting into the mouse-trap and a getting out], to the Count Harrach [important Austrian Official], Lord Stair, or any of the partisans of Austria, even for a quarter of an hour [as I have often done], has beard them say, That they burn with desire to open the campaign in Silesia again. Have you in that case, Sire, any ally but France? And, however potent you are, is an ally useless to you? You know the resources of the House of Austria, and how many Princes are united to it. But will they resist your power, joined to that of the House of Bourbon?

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“5. On les y recevra, Biribi,
A la facon de Barbari, Mon ami.
We will receive them, Twiddledee,
In the mode of Barbary, Don’t you see? [Form of Song, very fashionable at Paris (see Barbier soepius) in those years: “BIRIBI,” I believe, is a kind of lottery-game.]

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“6. If you were but to march a body of troops to Cleves, do not you awaken terror and respect, without apprehension that any one dare make war on you? Is it not, on the contrary, the one method of forcing the Dutch to concur, under your orders, in the pacification of the Empire, and re-establishment of the Emperor, who will thus a second time he indebted to you for his throne, and will aid in the splendor of yours?

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“6. Vous voulez qu’en vrai dieu de la machine,
“You will have me as theatre-god, then, “J’arrive pour te denouement?
“Swoop in, and produce the catastrophe? “Qu’aux Anglais, aux Pandours, a ce peuple insolent, “J’aille donner la discipline?–
“Tame to sobriety those English, those Pandours, and obstreperous people?
“Mais examinez mieux ma mine;
“Examine the look of me better;
“Je ne suis pas assez mechant!
“I have not surliness euough.

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“7. Whatever resolution may be come to, will your Majesty deign to confide it to me, and impart the result,–to your servant, to him who desires to pass his life at your Court? May I have the honor to accompany your Majesty to Baireuth; and if your goodness go so far, would you please to declare it, that I may have time to prepare for the journey? One favorable word written to me in the Letter on that occasion [word favorable to France, ostensible to M. Amelot and the most Christian Majesty], one word would suffice to procure me the happiness I have, for six years, been aspiring to, of living beside you.” Oh, send it!

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“7. If you like to come to Baireuth, I shall be glad to see you there, provided the journey don’t derange your health. It will depend on yourself, then, to take what measures you please. [And about the ostensible WORD,–Nothing!]

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“8. During the short stay I am now to make, if I could be made the bearer of some news agreeable to my Court, I would supplicate your Majesty to honor me with such a commission. [This does not want for impudence, Monsieur! Friedrich answers, from aloft!]

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“8. I am not in any connection with France; I have nothing to fear nor to hope from France. If you would like, I will make a Panegyric on Louis XV. without a word of truth in it: but as to political business, there is, at present, none to bring us together; and neither is it I that am to speak first. When they put a question to me, it will he time to reply: but you, who are so much a man of sense, you see well what a ridiculous business it would he if, without ground given me, I set to prescribing projects of policy to France, and even put them on paper with my own hand!

MEMORIAL BY VOLTAIRE.
“9. Do whatsoever you may please, I shall always love your Majesty with my whole heart.”

MARGINALIA BY FRIEDRICH.
“9. I love you with all my heart; I esteem you: I will do all to have you, except follies, and things which would make me forever ridiculous over Europe, and at bottom would he contrary to my interests and my glory. The only commission I can give you for France, is to advise them to behave with more wisdom than they have done hitherto. That Monarchy is a body with much strength, but without, soul or energy (NERF).”

And so you may give it to Valori to put in cipher, my illustrious Messenger from the Spheres. [ OEuvres de Voltaire, italic> lxxiii. 101-105 (see Ib. ii. 55); OEuvres de
Frederic, xxii. 141-144.]

Worth reading, this, rather well. Very kingly, and characteristic of the young Friedrich. Saved by Beaumarchais, who did not give it in his famous Kehl Edition of VOLTAIRE, but “had it in Autograph ever after, and printed it in his DECADE PHILOSOPHIQUE, 10 Messidor, An vii. [Summer, 1799j: Beaumarchais had several other Pieces of the same sort;” which, as bits of contemporary photographing, one would have liked to see.

FRIEDRIC VISITS BAIREUTH: ON A PARTICULAR ERRAND;–VOLTAIRE ATTENDING, AND PRIVATELY REPORTING.

This “BIRIBI” Document, I suppose to have been delivered perhaps on the 7th; and that Friedrich HAD it, but had not yet answered it, when he wrote the following Letter:–

“POTSDAM, 8th SEPTEMBER, 1743 [Friedrich to Voltaire].–I dare not speak to a son of Apollo about horses and carriages, relays and such things; these are details with which the gods do not concern themselves, and which we mortals take upon us. You will set out on Monday afternoon, if you like the journey, for Baireuth, and you will dine with me in passing, if you please [at Potsdam here].

“The rest of my MEMOIRE [Paper before given?] is so blurred and in so bad a state, I cannot yet send it you.–I am getting Cantos 8 and 9 of LA PUCELLE copied; I at present have Cantos 1, 2, 4, 5, 8 and 9: I keep them under three keys, that the eye of mortal may not see them.

“I hear you supped yesternight in good company [great gathering in some high house, gone all asunder now];

“The finest wits of the Canton
All collected in your name,
People all who could not but be pleased with you, All devout believers in Voltaire,
Unanimously took you
For the god of their Paradise.

“‘Paradise,’ that you may not be scandalized, is taken here in a general sense for a place of pleasure and joy. See the ‘remark’ on the last verse of the MONDAIN.” [ OEuvres de Frederic, italic> xxii. 144; Voltaire, lxxiii. 100 (scandalously MISdated in Edition 1818, xxxix. 466). As to MONDAIN, and “remark” upon it,– the ghost of what was once a sparkle of successful coterie-speech and epistolary allusion,–take this: “In the MONDAIN Voltaire had written, ‘LE PARADIS TERRESTRE EST OU JE SUIS;’ and as the Priests made outcry, had with airs of orthodoxy explained the phrase away,” –as Friedrich now affects to do; obliquely quizzing, in the Friedrich manner.

Voltaire is to go upon the Baireuth Journey, then, according to prayer. Whether Voltaire ever got that all-important “word which he could show,” I cannot say: though there is some appearance that Friedrich may have dashed off for him the Panegyric of Louis, in these very hours, to serve his turn, and have done with him. Under date 7th September, day before the Letter just read, here are snatches from another to the same address:–

“POTSDAM, 7th SEPTEMBER, 1743 [Friedrich to Voltaire].–You tell me so much good of France and of its King, it were to be wished all Sovereigns had subjects like you, and all Commonwealths such citizens,–[you can show that, I suppose?] What a pity France and Sweden had not had Military Chiefs of your way of thinking! But it is very certain, say what you will, that the feebleness of their Generals, and the timidity of their counsels, have almost ruined in public repute two Nations which, not half a century ago, inspired terror over Europe.”–… “Scandalous Peace, that of Fleury, in 1735; abandoning King Stanislaus, cheating Spain, cheating Sardinia, to get Lorraine! And now this manner of abandoning the Emperor [respectable Karl VII. of your making]; sacrificing Bavaria; and reducing that worthy Prince to the lowest poverty,– poverty, I say not, of a Prince, but into the frightfulest state for a private man!” Ah, Monsieur.

“And yet your France is the most charming of Nations; and if it is not feared, it deserves well to be loved. A King worthy to command it, who governs sagely, and acquires for himself the esteem of all Europe,–[there, won’t that do!] may restore its ancient splendor, which the Broglios, and so many others even more inept, have a little eclipsed. That is assuredly a work worthy of a Prince endowed with such gifts! To reverse the sad posture of affairs, nobly repairing what others have spoiled; to defend his country against furious enemies, reducing them to beg Peace, instead of scornfully rejecting it when offered: never was more glory acquirable by any King! I shall admire whatsoever this great man [CE GRAND HOMME, Louis XV., not yet visibly tending to the dung- heap, let us hope better things!] may achieve in that way; and of all the Sovereigns of Europe none will be less jealous of his success than I:”–there, my spheral friend, show that! [ OEuvres de Frederic, xxii. 139: see, for
what followed, OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiii.
129 (report to Amelot, 27th October).]

Which the spheral friend does. Nor was it “irony,” as the new Commentators think; not at all; sincere enough, what you call sincere;–Voltaire himself had a nose for “irony”! This was what you call sincere Panegyric in liberal measure; why be stingy with your measure? It costs half an hour: it will end Voltaire’s importunities; and so may, if anything, oil the business-wheels withal. For Friedrich foresees business enough with Louis and the French Ministries, though he will not enter on it with Voltaire. This Journey to Baireuth and Anspach, for example, this is not for a visit to his Sisters, as Friedrich labels it; but has extensive purposes hidden under that title,–meetings with Franconian Potentates, earnest survey, earnest consultation on a state of things altogether grave for Germany and Friedrich; though he understands whom to treat with about it, whom to answer with a “BIRIBIRI, MON AMI.” That Austrian Exorbitancy of a message to the Diet has come out (August 16th, and is struggling to DICTATUR); the Austrian procedures in Baiern are in their full flagrancy: Friedrich intends trying once more, Whether, in such crisis, there be absolutely no “Union of German Princes” possible; nor even of any two or three of them, in the “Swabian and Franconian Circles,” which he always thought the likeliest?

The Journey took effect, Tuesday, 10th September [Rodenbeck, i. 93.] (not the day before, as Friedrich had been projecting); went by Halle, straight upon Baireuth; and ended there on Thursday. As usual, Prince August Wilhelm, and Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, were of it; Voltaire failed not to accompany. What the complexion of it was, especially what Friedrich had meant by it, and how ill he succeeded, will perhaps be most directly visible through the following compressed Excerpts from Voltaire’s long LETTER to Secretary Amelot on the subject,–if readers will be diligent with them. Friedrich, after four days, ran across to Anspach on important business; came back with mere failure, and was provokingly quite silent on it; stayed at Baireuth some three days more; thence home by Gotha (still on “Union” business, still mere failure), by Leipzig, and arrived at Potsdam, September 25th;– leaving Voltaire in Wilhelmina’s charmed circle (of which unhappily there is not a word said), for about a week more. Voltaire, directly on getting back to Berlin, “resumes the thread of his journal” to Secretary Amelot; that is, writes him another long Letter:–

VOLTAIRE (from Berlin, 3d October, 1743) TO SECRETARY AMELOT.

“… The King of Prussia told me at Baireuth, on the 13th or 14th of last month, He was glad our King had sent the Kaiser money;”– useful that, at any rate; Noailles’s 6,000 pounds would not go far. “That he thought M. le Marechal de Noailles’s explanation [of a certain small rumor, to the disadvantage of Noailles in reference to the Kaiser] was satisfactory: ‘but,’ added he, ‘it results from all your secret motions that you are begging Peace from everybody, and there may have been something in this rumor, after all.’

“He then told me he was going over to Anspach, to see what could be done for the Common Cause [Kaiser’s and Ours]; that he expected to meet the Bishop of Wurzburg there; and would try to stir the Frankish and Swabian Circles into some kind of Union. And, at setting off [from Baireuth, September 16th, on this errand], he promised his Brother-in-law the Margraf, He would return with great schemes afoot, and even with great success;” which proved otherwise, to a disappointing degree.

“… The Margraf of Anspach did say he would join a Union of Princes in favor of the Kaiser, if Prussia gave example. But that was all. The Bishop of Wurzburg,” a feeble old creature, “never appeared at Anspach, nor even sent an apology; and Seckendorf, with the Imperial Army”–Seckendorf, caged up at Wembdingen (whom Friedrich drove off from Anspach, twenty miles, to see and consult), was in a disconsolate moulting condition, and could promise or advise nothing satisfactory, during the dinner one took with him. [September 19th, “under a shady tree, after muster of the troops” (Rodenbeck, p. 93).] Four days running about on those errands had yielded his Prussian Majesty nothing. “Whilst he (Prussian Majesty) was on this Anspach excursion, the Margraf of Baireuth, who is lately made Field-marshal of his Circle, spoke much to me of present affairs: a young Prince, full of worth and courage, who loves the French, hates the Austrians,”–and would fain make himself generally useful. “To whom I suggested this and that” (does your Lordship observe?), if it could ever come to anything.

“The King of Prussia, on returning to Baireuth [guess, 20th September], did not speak the least word of business to the Margraf: which much surprised the latter! He surprised him still more by indicating some intention to retain forcibly at Berlin the young Duke of Wurtemberg, under pretext, ‘that Madam his Mother intended to have him taken to Vienna,’ for education. To anger this young Duke, and drive his Mother to despair, was not the method for acquiring credit in the Circle of Swabia, and getting the Princes brought to unite!

“The Duchess of Wurtemberg, who was there at Baireuth, by appointment, to confer with the King of Prussia, sent to seek me. I found her all dissolved in tears. ‘Ah!’ said she,–[But why is our dear Wilhelmina left saying nothing; invisible, behind the curtains of envious Chance, and only a skirt of them lifted to show us this Improper Duchess once more!]–‘Ah!’ said she (the Improper Duchess, at sight of me), ‘will the King of Prussia be a tyrant, then? To pay me for intrusting my Boys to him, and giving him two Regiments [for money down], will he force me to implore justice against him from the whole world? I must have my Child! He shall not go to Vienna; it is in his own Country that I will have him brought up beside me. To put my Son in Austrian hands? [unless, indeed, your Highness were driven into Financial or other straits?] You know if I love France;–if my design is not to pass the rest of my days there, so soon as my Son comes to majority!’ Ohone, ohoo!

“In fine, the quarrel was appeased. The King of Prussia told me he would be gentler with the Mother; would restore the Son if they absolutely wished it; but that he hoped the young Prince would of himself like better to stay where he was.” …–“I trust your Lordship will allow me to draw for those 300 ducats, for a new carriage. I have spent all I had, running about these four months. I leave this for Brunswick and homewards, on the evening of the 12th.” [Voltaire, lxxiii. 105-109.] …

And so the curtain drops on the Baireuth Journey, on the Berlin Visit; and indeed, if that were anything, on Voltaire’s Diplomatic career altogether. The insignificant Accidents, the dull Powers that be, say No. Curious to reflect, had they happened to say Yes: –“Go into the Diplomatic line, then, you sharp climbing creature, and become great by that method; WRITE no more, you; write only Despatches and Spy-Letters henceforth!”–how different a world for us, and for all mortals that read and that do not read, there had now been!

Voltaire fancies he has done his Diplomacy well, not without fruit; and, at Brunswick,–cheered by the grand welcome he found there,–has delightful outlooks (might I dare to suggest them, Monseigneur?) of touring about in the German Courts, with some Circular HORTATORIUM, or sublime Begging-Letter from the Kaiser, in his hand; and, by witchery of tongue, urging Wurtemberg, Brunswick, Baireuth, Anspach, Berlin, to compliance with the Imperial Majesty and France. [Ib. lxxiii. 133.] Would not that be sublime! But that, like the rest, in spite of one’s talent, came to nothing. Talent? Success? Madame de Chateauroux had, in the interim, taken a dislike to M. Amelot; “could not bear his stammering,” the fastidious Improper Female; flung Amelot overboard,–Amelot, and his luggage after him, Voltaire’s diplomatic hopes included; and there was an end.

How ravishing the thing had been while it lasted, judge by these other stray symptoms; hastily picked up, partly at Berlin, partly at Brunswick; which show us the bright meridian, and also the blaze, almost still more radiant, which proved to be sunset. Readers have heard of Voltaire’s Madrigals to certain Princesses; and must read these Three again,–which are really incomparable in their kind; not equalled in graceful felicity even by Goethe, and by him alone of Poets approached in that respect. At Berlin, Autumn 1743, Three consummate Madrigals:–

1. TO PRINCESS ULRIQUE.

“Souvent un peu de verite
Se mele au plus grossier mensonge: Cette nuit, dans l’erreur d’un songe, Au rang des rois j’etais monte.
Je vous aimais, Princesse, et j’osais vous le dire! Les dieux a mon reveil ne m’ont pas tout ote, Je n’ai perdu que mon empire.”

2. TO PRINCESSES ULRIQUE AND AMELIA.

“Si Paris venait sur la terre
Pour juger entre vos beaux yeux, Il couperait la pomme en deux,
Et ne produirait pas de guerre.”

3. TO PRINCESSES ULRIQUE, AMELIA AND WILHELMINA.

“Pardon, charmante Ulrique; pardon, belle Amelie; J’ai cru n’aimer que vous la reste de ma vie, Et ne servir que sous vos lois;
Mais enfin j’entends et je vois Cette adorable Soeur dont l’Amour suit les traces: Ah, ce n’est pas outrager les Trois Graces Que de les aimer toutes trois!”

[1. “A grain of truth is often mingled with the stupidest delusion. Yesternight, in the error of a dream, I had risen to the rank of king; I loved you, Princess, and had the audacity to say so! The gods, at my awakening, did not strip me wholly; my kingdom was all they took from me.”
2. If Paris [of Troy] came back to decide on the charms of you Two, he would halve the Apple, and produce no War.” 3. “Pardon, charming Ulrique; beautiful Amelia, pardon: I thought I should love only you for the rest of my life, and serve under your laws only: but at last I hear and see this adorable Sister, whom Love follows as Page:–Ah, it is not offending the Three Graces to love them all three!”
–In Oeuvres de Voltaire, xviii.: No. 1 is,
p. 292 (in OEuvres de Frederic, xiv. 90-92,
the ANSWERS to it); No. 2 is, p. 320; No. 3, p. 321.]

BRUNSWICK, 16th October (blazing sunset, as it proved, but brighter almost than meridian), a LETTER FROM VOLTAIRE TO MAUPERTUIS (still in France since that horrible Mollwitz-Pandour Business).

“In my wanderings I received the Letter where my dear Flattener of this Globe deigns to remember me with so much friendship. Is it possible that–… I made your compliments to all your friends at Berlin; that is, to all the Court.” “Saw Dr. Eller decomposing water into elastic air [or thinking he did so, 1743]; saw the Opera of TITUS, which is a masterpiece of music [by Friedrich himself, with the important aid of Graun]: it was, without vanity, a treat the King gave me, or rather gave himself; he wished I should see him in his glory.

“His Opera-House is the finest in Europe. Charlottenburg is a delicious abode: Friedrich does the honors there, the King knowing nothing of it. … One lives at Potsdam as in the Chateau of a French Seigneur who had culture and genius,–in spite of that big Battalion of Guards, which seems to me the terriblest Battalion in this world.

“Jordan is still the same,–BON GARCON ET DISCRET; has his oddities, his 1,600 crowns (240 pounds) of pension. D’Argens is Chamberlain, with a gold key at his breast-pocket, and 100 louis inside, payable monthly. Chasot [whom readers made acquaintance with at Philipsburg long since], instead of cursing his destiny, must have taken to bless it: he is Major of Horse, with income enough. And he has well earned it, having saved the King’s Baggage at the last Battle of Chotusitz,”–what we did not notice, in the horse-charges and grand tumults of that scene.

“I passed some days [a fortnight in all] at Baireuth. Her Royal Highness, of course, spoke to me of you. Baireuth is a delightful retreat, where one enjoys whatever there is agreeable in a Court, without the bother of grandeur. Brunswick, where I am, has another species of charm. ‘Tis a celestial Voyage this of mine, where I pass from Planet to Planet,”– to tumultuous Paris; and, I do hope, to my unique Maupertuis awaiting me there at last. [Voltaire, lxxiii. 122-125.]’

We have only to remark farther, that Friedrich had again pressed Voltaire to come and live with him, and choose his own terms; and that Voltaire (as a second string to his bow, should this fine Diplomatic one fail) had provisionally accepted. Provisionally; and with one most remarkable clause: that of leaving out Madame,– “imagining it would be less agreeable to you if I came with others (AVEC D’AUTRES); and I own, that belonging to your Majesty alone, I should have my mind more at ease:” [ OEuvres de Voltaire,
lxxiii. 112,116 (Proposal and Response, both of them “7th October,” five days before leaving Berlin).]–whew! And then to add a third thing: That Madame, driven half delirious, by these delays, and gyratings from Planet to Planet, especially by that last Fortnight at Baireuth, had rushed off from Paris, to seek her vagabond, and see into him with her own eyes: “Could n’t help it, my angels!” writes she to the D’Argentals (excellent guardian angels, Monsieur and Madame; and, I am sure, PATIENT both of them, as only MONSIEUR Job was, in the old case): “A whole fortnight [perhaps with madrigals to Princesses], and only four lines to me!” –and is now in bed, or lately was, at Lille, ill of slow fever (PETITE FIEVRE); panting to be upon the road again. [ Lettres inedites de Madame du Chastelet a M. le Comte d’Argental (Paris, 1806) p. 253. A curiously elucidative Letter this (“Brussels, 15th October, 1743”); a curious little Book altogether.]

Fancy what a greeting for M. de Voltaire, from those eyes HAGARDES ET LOUCHES; and whether he mentioned that pretty little clause of going to Berlin “WITHOUT others,” or durst for the life of him whisper of going at all! After pause in the Brussels region, they came back to Paris “in December;” resigned, I hope, to inexorable Fate,–though with such Diplomatic and other fine prospects flung to the fishes, and little but GREDINS and confusions waiting you, as formerly.

Chapter VII.

FRIEDRICH MAKES TREATY WITH FRANCE; AND SILENTLY GETS READY.

Though Friedrich went upon the bantering tone with Voltaire, his private thoughts in regard to the surrounding scene of things were extremely serious; and already it had begun to be apparent, from those Britannic-Austrian procedures, that some new alliance with France might well lie ahead for him. During Voltaire’s visit, that extraordinary Paper from Vienna, that the Kaiser was no Kaiser, and that there must be “compensation” and satisfactory “assurance,” had come into full glare of first-reading; and the DICTATUR-SACHE, and denunciation of an evidently partial Kur-Mainz, was awakening everywhere. Voltaire had not gone, when,–through Podewils Junior (probably with help of the improper Dutch female of rank),– Friedrich got to wit of another thing, not less momentous to him; and throwing fearful light on that of “compensation” and “assurance.” This was the Treaty of Worms,–done by Carteret and George, September 13th, during those languid Rhine operations; Treaty itself not languid, but a very lively thing, to Friedrich and to all the world! Concerning which a few words now.

We have said, according to promise, and will say, next to nothing of Maria Theresa’s Italian War; but hope always the reader keeps it in mind. Big war-clouds waltzing hither and thither, occasionally clashing into bloody conflict; Sardinian Majesty and Infant Philip both personally in the field, fierce men both: Traun, Browne, Lobkowitz, Lichtenstein, Austrians of mark, successively distinguishing themselves; Spain, too, and France very diligent;– Conti off thither, then in their turns Maillebois, Noailles:–high military figures, but remote; shadowy, thundering INaudibly on this side and that; whom we must not mention farther.

“The notable figure to us,” says one of my Notes, “is Charles Emanuel, second King of Sardinia; who is at the old trade of his Family, and shifts from side to side, making the war-balance vibrate at a great rate, now this scale now that kicking the beam. For he holds the door of the Alps, Bully Bourbon on one side of it, Bully Hapsburg on the other; and inquires sharply, “You, what will you give me? And you?” To Maria Theresa’s affairs he has been superlatively useful, for these Two Years past; and truly she is not too punctual in the returns covenanted for. It appears to Charles Emanuel that the Queen of Hungary, elated in her high thought, under-rates his services, of late; that she practically means to give him very little of those promised slices from the Lombard parts; and that, in the mean while, much too big a share of the War has fallen upon his poor hands, who should be doorholder only.

“Accordingly he grumbles, threatens: he has been listening to France, ‘Bourbon, how much will you give me, then?’ and the answer is such that he informs the Queen of Hungary and the Britannic Majesty, of his intention to close with Bourbon, since they on their side will do nothing considerable. George and his Carteret, not to mention the Hungarian Majesty at all, are thunder-struck at such a prospect; bend all their energies towards this essential point of retaining Charles Emanuel, which is more urgent even than getting Elsass. ‘Madam,’ they say to her Majesty, (we cannot save Italy for you on other terms: Vigevanesco, Finale [which is Genoa’s], part of Piacenza [when once got]: there must be some slice of the Lombard parts to this Charles Emanuel justly angry!’ Whereat the high Queen storms, and in her high manner scolds little George, as if he were the blamable party,–pretending friendship, and yet abetting mere highway robbery or little better. And his cash paid Madam, and his Dettingen mouse-trap fought? ‘Well, he has plenty of cash:–is it my Cause, then, or his Majesty’s and Liberty’s?’ Posterity, in modern England, vainly endeavors to conceive this phenomenon; yet sees it to be undeniable.

“And so there is a Treaty of Worms got concocted, after infinite effort on the part of Carteret, Robinson too laboring and steaming in Vienna with boilers like to burst; and George gets it signed 13th September [already signed while Friedrich was looking into Seckendorf and Wembdingen, if Friedrich had known it]: to this effect, That Charles Emanuel should have annually, down on the nail, a handsome increase of Subsidy (200,000 pounds instead of 150,000 pounds) from England, and ultimately beyond doubt some thinnish specified slices from the Lombard parts; and shall proceed fighting for, not against; English Fleet co-operating, English Purse ditto, regardless of expense; with other fit particulars, as formerly. [Scholl, ii. 330-335; Adelung, iii. B, 222-226; Coxe, iii. 296.] Maria Theresa, very angry, looks upon herself as a martyr, nobly complying to suffer for the whim of England; and Robinson has had such labors and endurances, a steam-engine on the point of bursting is but an emblem of him. It was a necessary Treaty for the Cause of Liberty, as George and Carteret, and all English Ministries and Ministers (Diana of Newcastle very specially, in spite of Pitt and a junior Opposition Party) viewed Liberty. It was Love’s last shift,–Diana having intervened upon those magnificent ‘Conferences of Hanau’ lately! Nevertheless Carteret was thrown out, next year, on account of it. And Posterity is unable to conceive it; and asks always of little George, What, in the name of wonder, had he to do there, fighting for or against, and hiring everybody he met to fight against everybody? A King with eyes somewhat A FLEUR-DE-TETE: yes; and let us say, his Nation, too,–which has sat down quietly, for almost a century back, under mountains of nonsense, inwardly nothing but dim Scepticism [except in the stomachic regions], and outwardly such a Trinacria of Hypocrisy [unconscious, for most part] as never lay on an honest giant Nation before, was itself grown much of a fool, and could expect no other kind of Kings.

“But the point intensely interesting to Friedrich in this Treaty of Worms was, That, in enumerating punctually the other Treaties, old and recent, which it is to guarantee, and stand upon the basis of, there is nowhere the least mention of Friedrich’s BRESLAU-AND-BERLIN TREATY; thrice-important Treaty with her Hungarian Majesty on the Silesian matter! In settling all manner of adjoining and preceding matters, there is nothing said of Silesia at all. Singular indeed. Treaties enough, from that of Utrecht downward, are wearisomely mentioned here; but of the Berlin Treaty, Breslau Treaty, or any Treaty settling Silesia,–much less, of any Westminster Treaty, guaranteeing it to the King of Prussia,–there is not the faintest mention! Silesia, then, is not considered settled, by the high contracting parties? Little George himself, who guaranteed it, in the hour of need, little more than a year ago, considers it fallen loose again in the new whirl of contingencies? ‘Patience, Madam: what was good to give is good to take!’ On what precise day or month Friedrich got notice of this expressive silence in the Treaty of Worms, we do not know; but from that day–!”

Friedrich recollects another thing, one of many others: that of those “ulterior mountains,” which Austria had bargained for as Boundary to Schlesien. Wild bare mountains; good for what? For invading Schlesien from the Austrian side; if for nothing else conceivable! The small riddle reads itself to him so, with a painful flash of light. [ OEuvres de Frederic,
iii. 34.] Looking intensely into this matter, and putting things together, Friedrich gets more and more the alarming assurance of the fate intended him; and that he will verily have to draw sword again, and fight for Silesia, and as if for life. From about the end of 1743 (as I strive to compute), there was in Friedrich himself no doubt left of it; though his Ministers, when he consulted them a good while afterwards, were quite incredulous, and spent all their strength in dissuading a new War; now when the only question was, How to do said War? “How to do it, to make ready for doing it? We must silently select the ways, the methods: silent, wary,–then at last swift; and the more like a lion-spring, like a bolt from the blue, it will be the better!” That is Friedrich’s fixed thought.

The Problem was complicated, almost beyond example. The Reich, with a Kaiser reduced to such a pass, has its potentialities of help or of hindrance,–its thousand-fold formulas, inane mostly, yet not inane wholly, which interlace this matter everywhere, as with real threads, and with gossamer or apparent threads,–which it is essential to attend to. Wise head, that could discriminate the dead Formulas of such an imbroglio, from the not-dead; and plant himself upon the Living Facts that do lie in the centre there! “We cannot have a Reichs Mediation-Army, then? Nor a Swabian-Franconian Army, to defend their own frontier?” No; it is evident, none. “And there is no Union of Princes possible; no Party, anywhere, that will rise to support the Kaiser whom all Germany elected; whom Austria and foreign England have insulted, ruined and officially designated as non-extant?” Well, not quite No, none; YES perhaps, in some small degree,–if Prussia will step out, with drawn sword, and give signal. The Reich has its potentialities, its formulas not quite dead; but is a sad imbroglio.

Definite facts again are mainly twofold, and of a much more central nature. Fact FIRST: A France which sees itself lamentably trodden into the mud by such disappointments and disgraces; which, on proposing peace, has met insult and invasion;–France will be under the necessity of getting to its feet, and striking for itself; and indeed is visibly rising into something of determination to do it:–there, if Prussia and the Kaiser are to be helped at all, there lies the one real help. Fact SECOND: Friedrich’s feelings for the poor Kaiser and the poor insulted Reich, of which Friedrich is a member. Feelings, these, which are not “feigned” (as the English say), but real, and even indignant; and about these he can speak and plead freely. For himself and his Silesia, THROUGH the Kaiser, Friedrich’s feelings are pungently real;–and they are withal completely adjunct to the other set of feelings, and go wholly to intensifying of them; the evident truth being, That neither he nor his Silesia would be in danger, were the Kaiser safe.

Friedrich’s abstruse diplomacies, and delicate motions and handlings with the Reich, that is to say, with the Kaiser and the Kaiser’s few friends in the Reich, and then again with the French, –which lasted for eight or nine months before closure (October, 1743 to June, 1744),–are considered to have been a fine piece of steering in difficult waters; but would only weary the reader, who is impatient for results and arrivals. Ingenious Herr Professor Ranke,–whose HISTORY OF FRIEDRICH consists mainly of such matter excellently done, and offers mankind a wondrously distilled “ASTRAL SPIRIT,” or ghost-like fac-simile (elegant gray ghost, with stars dim-twinkling through), of Friedrich’s and other people’s Diplomatizings in this World,–will satisfy the strongest diplomatic appetite; and to him we refer such as are given that way. [Ranke, Neun Bucher Preussischer Geschichte, italic> iii. 74-137.]’ “France and oneself, as SUBSTANCE of help; but, for many reasons, give it carefully a legal German FORM or coat:” that is Friedrich’s method as to finding help. And he diligently prosecutes it;–and, what is still luckier, strives to be himself at all points ready, and capable of doing with a mininum of help from others.

Before the Year 1743 was out, Friedrich had got into serious Diplomatic Colloquy with France; suggesting, urging, proposing, hypothetically promising. “February 21st, 1744,” he secretly despatched Rothenburg to Paris; who, in a shining manner, consults not only with the Amelots, Belleisles, but with the Chateauroux herself (who always liked Friedrich), and with Louis XV. in person: and triumphantly brings matters to a bearing. Ready here, on the French side; so soon as your Reich Interests are made the most of; so soon as your Patriotic “Union of Reich’s Princes” is ready! In March, 1744, the Reich side of the Affair was likewise getting well forward (“we keep it mostly secret from the poor Kaiser, who is apt to blab”):–and on May 22d, 1744, Friedrich, with the Kaiser and Two other well-affected Parties (only two as yet, but we hope for more, and invite all and sundry), sign solemnly their “UNION OF FRANKFURT;” famous little Fourfold outcome of so much diplomatizing. [Ranke, ubi supra (Treaty is in Adelung, iv. 103-105).] For the well-affected Parties, besides Friedrich, and the Kaiser himself, were as yet Two only: Landgraf Wilhelm of Hessen-Cassel, disgusted with the late Carteret astucities at Hanau, he is one (and hires, by and by, his poor 6,000 Hessians to the French and Kaiser, instead of to the English; which is all the help HE can give); Landgraf Wilhelm, and for sole second to him the new Kur-Pfalz, who also has men to hire. New Kur-Pfalz: our poor OLD friend is dead; but here is a new one, Karl Philip Theodor by name, of whom we shall hear again long afterwards; who was wedded (in the Frankfurt-Coronation time, as readers might have noted) to a Grand-daughter of the old, and who is, like the old, a Hereditary Cousin of the Kaiser’s, and already helps him all he can.

Only these Two as yet, though the whole Reich is invited to join; these, along with Friedrich and the Kaiser himself, do now, in their general Patriotic “Union,” which as yet consists only of Four, covenant, in Six Articles, To,–in brief, to support Teutschland’s oppressed Kaiser in his just rights and dignities; and to do, with the House of Austria, “all imaginable good offices” (not the least whisper of fighting) towards inducing said high House to restore to the Kaiser his Reichs-Archives, his Hereditary Countries, his necessary Imperial Furnishings, called for by every law human and divine:–in which endeavor, or innocently otherwise, if any of the contracting parties be attacked, the others will guarantee him, and strenuously help. “All imaginable good offices;” nothing about fighting anywhere,–still less is there the least mention of France; total silence on that head, by Friedrich’s express desire. But in a Secret Article (to which France, you may be sure, will accede), it is intimated, “That the way of good offices having some unlikelihoods, it MAY become necessary to take arms. In which tragic case, they will, besides Hereditary Baiern (which is INalienable, fixed as the rocks, by Reichs-Law), endeavor to conquer, to reconquer for the Kaiser, his Kingdom of Bohmen withal, as a proper Outfit for Teutschland’s Chief: and that, if so, his Prussian Majesty (who will have to do said conquest) shall, in addition to his Schlesien, have from it the Circles of Konigsgratz, Bunzlau and Leitmeritz for his trouble.” This is the Treaty of Union, Secret-Article and all; done at Frankfurt-on- Mayn, 22d May, 1744.

Done then and there; but no part of it made public, till August following, [“22d August 1744, by the Kaiser” (Adelung, iv. 154.}] (when the upshot had come); and the Secret Bohemian Article NOT then made public, nor ever afterwards,–much the contrary; though it was true enough, but inconvenient to confess, especially as it came to nothing. “A hypothetical thing, that,” says Friedrich carelessly; “wages moderate enough, and proper to be settled beforehand, though the work was never done.” To reach down quite over the Mountains, and have the Elbe for Silesian Frontier: this, as an occasional vague thought, or day-dream in high moments, was probably not new to Friedrich; and would have been very welcome to him,–had it proved realizable, which it did not. That this was “Friedrich’s real end in going to War again,” was at one time the opinion loudly current in England and other uninformed quarters; “but it is not now credible to anybody,” says Herr Ranke; nor indeed worth talking of, except as a memento of the angry eclipses, and temporary dust-clouds, which rise between Nations, in an irritated uninformed condition.

Rapidly progressive in the rear of all this, which was its legalizing German COAT, the French Treaty, which was the interior SUBSTANCE, or muscular tissue, perfected itself under Rothenburg; and was signed June 5th, 1774 (anniversary, by accident, of that First Treaty of all, “June 5th, 1741”);–sanctioning, by France, that Bohemian Adventure, if needful; minutely setting forth How, and under what contingencies, what efforts made and what successes arrived at, on the part of France, his Prussian Majesty shall take the field; and try Austria, not “with all imaginable good offices” longer, but with harder medicine. Of which Treaty we shall only say farther, commiserating our poor readers, That Friedrich considerably MORE than kept his side of it; and France very considerably LESS than hers. So that, had not there been punctual preparation at all points, and good self-help in Friedrich, Friedrich had come out of this new Adventure worse than he did!

Long months ago, the French–as preliminary and rigorous SINE QUA NON to these Friedrich Negotiations–had actually started work, by “declaring War on Austria, and declaring War on England:”–Not yet at War, then, after so much killing? Oh no, reader; mere “Allies” of Belligerents, hitherto. These “Declarations” the French had made; [War on England, 15th March, 1744; on Austria, 27th April (Adelung, iv. 78, 90).] and the French were really pushing forward, in an attitude of indignant energy, to execute the same. As shall be noticed by and by. And through Rothenburg, through Schmettau, by many channels, Friedrich is assiduously in communication with them; encouraging, advising, urging; their affairs being in a sort his, ever since the signing of those mutual Engagements, May 22d, June 5th. And now enough of that hypothetic Diplomatic stuff.

War lies ahead, inevitable to Friedrich. He has gradually increased his Army by 18,000; inspection more minute and diligent than ever, has been quietly customary of late; Walrave’s fortification works, impregnable or nearly so, the work at Neisse most of all, Friedrich had resolved to SEE completed,–before that French Treaty were signed. A cautious young man, though a rapid; vividly awake on all sides. And so the French-Austrian, French-English game shall go on; the big bowls bounding and rolling (with velocities, on courses, partly computable to a quick eye);–and at the right instant, and juncture of hits, not till that nor after that, a quick hand shall bowl in; with effect, as he ventures to hope. He knows well, it is a terrible game. But it is a necessary one, not to be despaired of; it is to be waited for with closed lips, and played to one’s utmost!–

Chapter VIII.

PERFECT PEACE AT BERLIN, WAR ALL ROUND.

Friedrich, with the Spectre of inevitable War daily advancing on him, to him privately evident and certain if as yet to him only, neglects in no sort the Arts and business of Peace, but is present, always with vivid activity, in the common movement, serious or gay and festive, as the day brings it. During these Winter months of 1743, and still more through Summer 1744, there are important War- movements going on,–the French vehemently active again, the Austrians nothing behindhand,–which will require some slight notice from us soon. But in Berlin, alongside of all this, it is mere common business, diligent as ever, alternating with Carnival gayeties, with marryings, givings in marriage; in Berlin there goes on, under halcyon weather, the peaceable tide of things, sometimes in a high fashion, as if Berlin and its King had no concern with the foreign War.

The Plauen Canal, an important navigation-work, canal of some thirty miles, joining Havel to Elbe in a convenient manner, or even joining Oder to Elbe, is at its busiest:–“it was begun June 1st, 1743 [all hands diligently digging there, June 27th, while some others of us were employed at Dettingen,–think of it!], and was finished June 5th, 1745.” [Busching, Erdbeschreibung, italic> vi. 2192.] This is one of several such works now afoot. Take another miscellaneous item or two.

January, 1744, Friedrich appoints, and briefly informs all his People of it, That any Prussian subject who thinks himself aggrieved, may come and tell his story to the King’s own self: [“January, 1744” (Rodenbeck, i. 98).]–better have his story in firm succinct state, I should imagine, and such that it will hold water, in telling it to the King! But the King is ready to hear him; heartily eager to get justice done him. A suitable boon, such Permission, till Law-Reform take effect. And after Law-Reform had finished, it was a thing found suitable; and continued to the end, –curious to a British reader to consider!

Again: on Friedrich’s birthday, 24th January, 1744, the new Academy of Sciences had, in the Schloss of Berlin, its first Session. But of this,–in the absence of Maupertuis, Flattener of the Earth, who is still in France, since that Mollwitz adventure; by and for behoof of whom, when he did return, and become “Perpetual First President,” many changes were made,–I will not speak at present. Nor indeed afterwards, except on good chance rising;–the new Academy, with its Perpetual First President, being nothing like so sublime an object now, to readers and me, as it then was to itself and Perpetual President and Royal Patron! Vapid Formey is Perpetual Secretary; more power to him, as the Irish say. Poor Goldstick Pollnitz is an Honorary Member;–absent at this time in Baireuth, where those giggling Marwitzes of Wilhelmina’s have been contriving a marriage for the old fool. Of which another word soon: if we have time. Time cannot be spent on those dim small objects: but there are two Marriages of a high order, of purport somewhat Historical; there is Barberina the Dancer, throwing a flash through the Operatic and some other provinces: let us restrict ourselves to these, and the like of these, and be brief upon them.

THE SUCCESSION IN RUSSIA, AND ALSO IN SWEDEN, SHALL NOT BE HOSTILE TO US: TWO ROYAL MARRIAGES, A RUSSIAN AND A SWEDISH, ARE ACCOMPLISHED AT BERLIN, WITH SUCH VIEW.

Marriage First, of an eminently Historical nature, is altogether Russian, or German become Russian, though Friedrich is much concerned in it. We heard of the mad Swedish-Russian War; and how Czarina Elizabeth was kind enough to choose a Successor to the old childless Swedish King,–Landgraf of Hessen-Cassel by nature; who has had a sorry time in Sweden, but kept merry and did not mind it much, poor old soul. Czarina Elizabeth’s one care was, That the Prince of Denmark should not be chosen to succeed, as there was talk of his being: Sweden, Denmark, Norway, all grasped in one firm hand (as in the old “Union-of-Calmar” times, only with better management), might be dangerous to Russia. “Don’t choose him of Denmark!” said Elizabeth, the victorious Czarina; and made it a condition of granting Peace, and mostly restoring Finland, to the infatuated Swedes. The person they did choose,–satisfactory to the Czarina, and who ultimately did become King of Sweden,–was one Adolf Friedrich; a Holstein-Gottorp Prince, come of Royal kin, and cousinry to Karl XII.: he is “Bishop of Lubeck” or of Eutin, so styled; now in his thirty-third year; and at least drawing the revenues of that See, though I think, not ecclesiastically given, but living oftener in Hamburg, the then fashionable resort of those Northern Grandees. On the whole, a likely young gentleman; accepted by parties concerned;–and surely good enough for the Office as it now is. Of whom, for a reason coming, let readers take note, in this place.

Above a year before this time, Czarina Elizabeth, a provident female, and determined not to wed, had pitched upon her own Successor: [7th November, 1742 (Michaelis, ii. 627).] one Karl Peter Ulrich; who was also of the same Holstein-Gottorp set, though with Russian blood in him. His Grandfather was full cousin, and chosen comrade, to Karl XII.; got killed in Karl’s Russian Wars; and left a poor Son dependent on Russian Peter the Great,–who gave him one of his Daughters; whence this Karl Peter Ulrich, an orphan, dear to his Aunt the Czarina. A Karl Peter Ulrich, who became tragically famous as Czar Peter Federowitz, or Czar Peter III., in the course of twenty years! His Father and Mother are both dead; loving Aunt has snatched the poor boy out of Holstein-Gottorp, which is a narrow sphere, into Russia, which is wide enough; she has had him converted to the Greek Church, named him Peter Federowitz, Heir and Successor;–and now, wishing to see him married, has earnestly consulted Friedrich upon it.

Friedrich is decidedly interested; would grudge much to see an Anti-Prussian Princess, for instance a Saxon Princess (one of whom is said to Be trying), put into this important station! After a little thought, he fixes,–does the reader know upon whom? Readers perhaps, here and there, have some recollection of a Prussian General, who is Titular Prince of Anhalt-Zerbst on his own score; and is actual Commandant of Stettin in Friedrich’s service, and has done a great deal of good fortification there and other good work. Instead of Titular, he has now lately, by decease of an Elder Brother, become Actual or Semi-Actual (a Brother joined with him in the poor Heirship); lives occasionally in the Schloss of Zerbst; but is glad to retain Stettin as a solid supplement. His Wife, let the reader note farther, is Sister to the above- mentioned Adolf Friedrich, “Bishop of Lubeck,” now Heir-Apparent to Sweden,–in whom, as will soon appear, we are otherwise interested. Wife seems to me an airy flighty kind of lady, high-paced, not too sure-paced,–weak evidently in French grammar, and perhaps in human sense withal:–but they have a Daughter, Sophie-Frederike, now near fifteen, and very forward for her age; comely to look upon, wise to listen to: “Is not she the suitable one?” thinks Friedrich, in regard to this matter. “Her kindred is of the oldest, old as Albert the Bear; she has been frugally brought up, Spartan-like, though as a Princess by birth: let her cease skippiug ropes on the ramparts yonder, with her young Stettin playmates; and prepare for being a Czarina of the Russias,” thinks he. And communicates his mind to the Czarina; who answers, “Excellent! How did I never think of that myself?”

And so, on or about New-year’s day, 1744, while the Commandant of Stettin and his airy Spouse are doing Christmas at their old Schloss of Zerbst, there suddenly come Estafettes; Expresses from Petersburg, heralded by Express from Friedrich:–with the astonishing proposal, “Czarina wishing the honor of a visit from Madam and Daughter; no doubt, with such and such intentions in the rear.” [Friedrich’s Letters to Madam of Zerbst (date of the first of them, 30th December, 1743), in OEuvres,
xxv. 579-589.] Madam, nor Daughter, is nothing loath;–the old Commandant grumbles in his beard, not positively forbidding: and in this manner, after a Letter or two in imperfect grammar, Madam and Daughter appear in Carnival society at Berlin, charming objects both; but do not stay long; in fact, stay only till their moneys and arrangements are furnished them. Upon which, in all silence, they make for Petersburg, for Moscow; travel rapidly, arrive successfully, in spite of the grim season. [“At Moscow, 7th (18th) February, 1744.”] Conversion to the Greek Religion, change of name from Sophie-Frederike to Catherine-Alexiewna (“Let it be Catherine,” said Elizabeth, “my dear mother’s name!”–little brown Czarina’s, whom we have seen):–all this was completed by the 12th of July following. And, in fine, next year (September 1st, 1745), Peter Federowitz and this same Catherine-Alexiewna, second-cousins by blood, were vouchsafed the Nuptial Benediction, and, with invocation of the Russian Heaven and Russian Earth, were declared to be one flesh, [Ranke, iii. 129; Memoires de Catherine
II. (Catherine’s own very curious bit of Autobiography;–published by Mr. Herzen, London, 1859), pp. 7-46.] –though at last they turned out to be TWO FLESHES, as my reader well knows! Some eighteen or nineteen years hence, we may look in upon them again, if there be a moment to spare. This is Marriage first; a purely Russian one; built together and launched on its course, so to say, by Friedrich at Berlin, who had his own interest in it.

Marriage Second, done at Berlin in the same months, was of still more interesting sort to Friedrich and us: that of Princess Ulrique to the above-named Adolf Friedrich, future King of Sweden. Marriage which went on preparing itself by the side of the other; and was of twin importance with it in regard to the Russian Question. The Swedish Marriage was not heard of, except in important whispers, during the Carnival time; but a Swedish Minister had already come to Berlin on it, and was busy first in a silent and examining, then in a speaking and proposing way. It seems, the Czarina herself had suggested the thing, as a counter-politeness to Friedrich; so content with him at this time. A thing welcome to Friedrich. And, in due course (“June, 1744”), there comes express Swedish Embassy, some Rodenskjold or Tessin, with a very shining train of Swedes, “To demand Princess Ulrique in marriage for our Future King.”

To which there is assent, by no means denial, in the proper quarter. Whereupon, after the wide-spread necessary fuglings and preliminaries, there occurs (all by Procuration, Brother August Wilhelm doing the Bridegroom’s part), “July 17th, 1744,” the Marriage itself: all done, this last act, and the foregoing ones and the following, with a grandeur and a splendor–unspeakable, we may say, in short. [ Helden-Geschichte, ii.
1045-1051.] Fantastic Bielfeld taxes his poor rouged Muse to the utmost, on this occasion; and becomes positively wearisome, chanting the upholsteries of life;–foolish fellow, spoiling his bits of facts withal, by misrecollections, and even by express fictions thrown in as garnish. So that, beyond the general impression, given in a high-rouged state, there is nothing to be depended on. One Scene out of his many, which represents to us on those terms the finale, or actual Departure of Princess Ulrique, we shall offer,–with corrections (a few, not ALL);–having nothing better or other on the subject:–

“But, in fine, the day of departure did arrive,”–eve of it did: 25th July, 1744; hour of starting to be 2 A.M. to-morrow. “The King had nominated Grand-Marshal Graf van Gotter [same Gotter whom we saw at Vienna once: King had appointed Gotter and two others; not to say that two of the Princess’s Brothers, with her Sister the Margravine of Schwedt, were to accompany as far as Schwedt: six in all; though one’s poor memory fails one on some occasions!]–to escort the Princess to Stralsund, where two Swedish Senators and different high Lords and Ladies awaited her. Her Majesty the Queen- Mother, judging by the movements of her own heart that the moment of separation would produce a scene difficult to bear, had ordered an Opera to divert our chagrin; and, instead of supper, a superb collation EN AMBIGU [kind of supper-breakfast, I suppose], in the great Hall of the Palace. Her Majesty’s plan was, The Princess, on coming from the Opera, should, almost on flight, taste a morsel; take her travelling equipment, embrace her kinsfolk, dash into her carriage, and go off like lightning. Herr Graf von Gotter was charged with executing this design, and with hurrying the departure.

“But all these precautions were vain. The incomparable Ulrique was too dear to her Family and to her Country, to be parted with forever, without her meed of tears from them in those cruel instants. On entering the Opera-Hall, I noticed everywhere prevalent an air of sorrow, of sombre melancholy. The Princess appeared in Amazon-dress [riding-habit, say], of rose-color trimmed with silver; the little vest, turned up with green-blue (CELADON), and collar of the same; a little bonnet, English fashion, of black velvet, with a white plume to it; her hair floating, and tied with a rose-colored ribbon. She was beautiful as Love: but this dress, so elegant, and so well setting off her charms, only the more sensibly awakened our regrets to lose her; and announced that the hour was come, in which all this appeared among us for the last time. At the second act, young Prince Ferdinand [Youngest Brother, Father of the JENA Ferdinand] entered the Royal Box; and flinging himself on the Princess’s neck with a burst of tears, said, ‘Ah, my dear Ulrique, it is over, then; and I shall never see you more!’ These words were a signal given to the grief which was shut in all hearts, to burst forth with the greatest vehemence. The Princess replied only with sobs; holding her Brother in her arms. The Two Queens could not restrain their tears; the Princes and Princesses followed the example: grief is epidemical; it gained directly all the Boxes of the first rank, where the Court and Nobility were. Each had his own causes of regret, and each melted into tears. Nobody paid the least attention farther to the Opera; and for my own share, I was glad to see it end.

“An involuntary movement took me towards the Palace. I entered the King’s Apartments, and found the Royal Family and part of the Court assembled. Grief had reached its height; everybody had his handkerchief out; and I witnessed emotions quite otherwise affecting than those that Theatric Art can produce. The King had composed an Ode on the Princess’s departure; bidding her his last adieus in the most tender and touching manner. It begins with these words:–

‘Partez, ma Soeur, partez;
La Suede vous attend, la Suede
vous desire,’
‘Go, my Sister, go;
Sweden waits you, Sweden
wishes you.
[Does not now exist (see OEuvres de Frederic,
xiv. 88, and ib. PREFACE p. xv).]

His Majesty gave it her at the moment when she was about to take leave of the Two Queens. [No, Monsieur, not then; it came to her hand the second evening hence, at Schwedt; [Her own Letter to Friedrich ( OEuvres de Frederic, xxvii. 372;
“Schwedt, 28th July, 1744”).] most likely not yet written at the time you fabulously give;–you foolish fantast, and “artist” of the SHAM-kind!]–The Princess threw her eyes on it, and fell into a faint [No, you Sham, not for IT]: the King had almost done the like. His tears flowed abundantly. The Princes and Princesses were overcome with sorrow. At last, Gotter judged it time to put an end to this tragic scene. He entered the Hall, almost like Boreas in the Ballet of THE ROSE; that is to say, with a crash. He made one or two whirlwinds; clove the press, and snatched away the Princess from the arms of the Queen-Mother, took her in his own, and whisked her out of the Hall. All the world followed; the carriages were waiting in the court; and the Princess in a moment found herself in hers. I was in such a state, I know not how we got down stairs; I remember only that it was in a concert of lamentable sobbings. Madam the Margrafin von Schwedt, who had been named to attend the Princess to Stralsund [read Schwedt] on the Swedish frontier, this high Lady and the two Dames d’Atours who were for Sweden itself, having sprung into the same carriage, the door of it was shut with a slam; the postillions cracked, the carriage shot away,–and hid the adorable Ulrique from the eyes of King and Court, who remained motionless for some minutes, overcome by their feelings.” [Bielfeld, ii. 107-110.]

We said this Marriage was like the other, important for Public Affairs. In fact, security on the Russian and Swedish side is always an object with Friedrich when undertaking war. “That the French bring about, help me to bring about, a Triple Alliance of Prussia, Russia, Sweden:” this was a thing Friedrich had bargained to see done, before joining in the War ahead: but by these Two Espousals Friedrich hopes he has himself as good as done it. Of poor Princess Ulrique and her glorious reception in Sweden (after near miss of shipwreck, in the Swedish Frigate from Stralsund), we shall say nothing more at present: except that her glories, all along, were much dashed by chagrins, and dangerous imminencies of shipwreck,–which latter did not quite overtake HER, but did her sons and grandsons, being inevitable or nearly so, in that element, in the course of time.

Sister Amelia, whom some thought disappointed, as perhaps, in her foolish thought, she might a little be, was made Abbess of Quedlinburg, which opulent benefice had fallen vacant; and, there or at Berlin, lived a respectable Spinster-life, doubtless on easier terms than Ulrique’s. Always much loved by her Brother, and loving him (and “taking care of his shirts,” in the final times); noted in society, for her sharp tongue and ways. Concerning whom Thiebault and his Trenck romances are worth no notice,–if it be not with horsewhips on opportunity. SCANDALUM MAGNATUM, where your Magnates are NOT fallen quite counterfeit, was and is always (though few now reflect on it) a most punishable crime.

GLANCE AT THE BELLIGERENT POWERS; BRITANNIC MAJESTY NARROWLY MISSES AN INVASION THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN DANGEROUS

Princess Ulrique was hardly yet home in Sweden, when her Brother had actually gone forth upon the Wars again! So different is outside from interior, now and then. “While the dancing and the marriage-festivities went on at Court, we, in private, were busily completing the preparations for a Campaign,” dreamed of by no mortal, “which was on the point of being opened.” [ OEuvres
de Frederic, iii. 41.] July 2d, three weeks before Princess Ulrique left, a certain Adventure of Prince Karl’s in the Rhine Countries had accomplished itself (of which in the following Book); and Friedrich could discern clearly that the moment drew rapidly nigh.

On the French side of the War, there has been visible–since those high attempts of Britannic George and the Hungarian Majesty, contumeliously spurning the Peace offered them, and grasping evidently at one’s Lorraines, Alsaces, and Three Bishoprics–a marked change; comfortable to look at from Friedrich’s side. Most Christian Majesty, from the sad bent attitude of insulted repentance, has started up into the perpendicular one of indignation: “Come on, then!”–and really makes efforts, this Year, quite beyond expectation. “Oriflamme enterprises, private intentions of cutting Germany in Four; well, have not I smarted for them; as good as owned they were rather mad? But to have my apology spit upon; but to be myself publicly cut in pieces for them?”

March 15h, 1744, Most Christian Majesty did, as we saw, duly declare War against England; against Austria, April 26th: “England,” he says, “broke its Convention of Neutrality (signed 27th September, 1741); broke said Convention [as was very natural, no term being set] directly after Maillebois was gone; England, by its Mediterranean Admirals and the like, has, to a degree beyond enduring, insulted the French coasts, harbors and royal Navy: We declare War on England.” And then, six weeks hence, in regard to Austria: “Austria, refusing to make Peace with a virtuous Kaiser, whom we, for the sake of peace, had magnanimously helped, and then magnanimously ceased to help;–Austria refuses peace with him or us; on the contrary, Austria attempts, and has attempted, to invade France itself: We therefore, on and from this 26th of April, 1744, let the world note it, are at War with Austria.” [In
Adelung, iv. 78, 90, the two Manifestoes given.] Both these promises to Friedrich are punctually performed.

Nor, what is far more important, have the necessary preparations been neglected; but are on a quite unheard-of scale. Such taxing and financiering there has been, last Winter:–tax on your street- lamp, on your fire-wood, increased excise on meat and eatables of all kinds: Be patient, ye poor; consider GLOIRE, and an ORIFLAMME so trampled on by the Austrian Heathen! Eatables, street-lamps, do I say? There is 36,000 pounds, raised by a tax on–well, on GARDEROBES (not translated)! A small help, but a help: NON OLET, NON OLEAT. To what depths has Oriflamme come down!–The result is, this Spring of 1744, indignant France does, by land, and even by sea, make an appearance calculated to astonish Gazetteers and men. Land-forces 160,000 actually on foot: 80,000 (grows at last into 100,000, for a little while) as “Army of the Netherlands,”–to prick into Austria, and astonish England and the Dutch Barrier, in that quarter. Of the rest, 20,000 under Conti are for Italy; 60,000 (by degrees 40,000) under Coigny for defence of the Rhine Countries, should Prince Karl, as is surmisable, make new attempts there. [Adelung, iv. 78; Espagnac, ii. 3.]

And besides all this, there are Two strong Fleets, got actually launched, not yet into the deep sea, but ready for it: one in Toulon Harbor, to avenge those Mediterranean insults; and burst out, in concert with an impatient Spanish Fleet (which has lain blockaded here for a year past), on the insolent blockading English: which was in some sort done. [“19th February, 1744,” French and Spanish Fleets run out; 22d Feb. are attacked by Matthews and Lestock; are rather beaten, not beaten nearly enough (Matthews and Lestock blaming one another, Spaniards and French ditto, ditto: Adelung, iv. 32-35); with the endless janglings, correspondings, court-martialings that ensue (Beatson,
Naval and Military Memoirs, i. 197 et seqq.;
Gentleman’s Magazine, and Old Newspapers, for
1744; &c. &c.).] The other strong Fleet, twenty sail of the line, under Admiral Roquefeuille, is in Brest Harbor,–intended for a still more delicate operation; of which anon. Surely King Friedrich ought to admit that these are fine symptoms? King Friedrich has freely done so, all along; intending to strike in at the right moment. Let us see, a little, how things have gone; and how the right moment has been advancing in late months.
JANUARY 17th, 1744, There landed at Antibes on French soil a young gentleman, by name “Conte di Spinelli,” direct from Genoa, from Rome; young gentleman seemingly of small importance, but intrinsically of considerable; who hastened off for Paris, and there disappeared. Disappeared into subterranean consultations with the highest Official people; intending reappearance with emphasis at Dunkirk, a few weeks hence, in much more emphatic posture. And all through February there is observable a brisk diligence of War-preparation, at Dunkirk: transport-ships in quantity, finally four war-ships; 15,000 chosen troops, gradually marching in; nearly all on board, with their equipments, by the end of the month.

Clearly an Invading Army intended somewhither, England judges too well whither. Anti-English Armament; to be led by, whom thinks the reader? That same “Conte di Spinelli,” who is Charles Edward the Young Pretender,–Comte de Saxe commanding under him! This is no fable; it is a fact, somewhat formidable; brought about, they say, by one Cardinal Tencin, an Official Person of celebrity in the then Versailles world; who owes his red hat (whatever such debt really be) to old Jacobite influence, exerted for him at Rome; and takes this method of paying his debt and his court at once. Gets, namely, his proposal, of a Charles-Edward Invasion of England, to dovetail in with the other wide artilleries now bent on little George in the way we see. Had not little George better have stayed at home out of these Pragmatic Wars? Fifteen thousand, aided by the native Jacobite hosts, under command of Saxe,–a Saxe against a Wade is fearful odds,–may make some figure in England! We hope always they will not be able to land. Imagination may conceive the flurry, if not of Britannic mankind, at least of Britannic Majesty and his Official People, and what a stir and din they made:–of which this is the compressed upshot.

“SATURDAY, 1st MARCH, 1744. For nearly a week past, there has been seen hanging about in the Channel, and dangerously hovering to and fro [had entered by the Land’s-End, was first noticed on Sunday last “nigh the Eddistone”] a considerable French Fleet, sixteen great ships; with four or five more, probably belonging to it, which now lie off Dunkirk: the intention of which is too well known in high quarters. This is the grand Brest Fleet, Admiral Roquefeuille’s; which believes it can command the Channel, in present circumstances, the English Channel-Fleets being in a disjoined condition,–till Comte de Saxe, with his Charles-Edward and 15,000, do ship themselves across! Great alarm in consequence; our War-forces, 40,000 of them, all in Germany; not the least preparation to receive an Invasive Armament. Comte de Saxe is veritably at Dunkirk, since Saturday, March 1st: busy shipping his 15,000; equipments mostly shipped, and about 10,000 of the men: all is activity there; Roquefeuille hanging about Dungeness, with four of his twenty great ships detached for more immediate protection of Saxe and those Dunkirk industries. To meet which, old Admiral Norris, off and on towards the Nore and the Forelands, has been doing his best to rally force about him; hopes he will now be match for Roquefeuille:–but if he should not?

“THURSDAY, 6th MARCH. Afternoon of March 5th, old Admiral Norris, hoping he was at length in something like equality, ‘tided it round the South Foreland;’ saw Roquefeuille hanging, in full tale, within few miles;–and at once plunged into him? No, reader; not at once, nor indeed at all. A great sea-fight was expected; but our old Norris thought it late in the day;–and, in effect, no fight proved needful. Daylight was not yet sunk, when there rose from the north- eastward a heavy gale; blew all night, and by six next morning was a raging storm; had blown Roquefeuille quite away out of those waters (fractions of him upon the rocks of Guernsey); had tumbled Comte de Saxe’s Transports bottom uppermost (so to speak), in Dunkirk Roads;–and, in fact, had blown the Enterprise over the horizon, and relieved the Official Britannic mind in the usual miraculous manner.

“M. le Comte de Saxe–who had, by superhuman activity, saved nearly all his men, in that hideous topsy-turvy of the Transports and munitions–returned straightway, and much more M. le Comte de Spinelli with him, to Paris. Comte de Saxe was directly thereupon made Marechal de France; appointed to be Colleague of Noailles in the ensuing Netherlands Campaign. ‘Comte de Spinelli went to lodge with his Uncle, the Cardinal Grand-Almoner Fitz-James’ [a zealous gentleman, of influence with the Holy Father], and there in privacy to wait other chances that might rise. ‘The 1,500 silver medals, that had been struck for distribution in Great Britain,’ fell, for this time, into the melting-pot again. [Tindal, xxi. 22 (mostly a puddle of inaccuracies, as usual); Espagnac, i. 213;
Gentleman’s Magazine, xiv. 106, &c.; Barbier, ii. 382, 385, 388.]

“Great stir, in British Parliament and Public, there had latterly been on this matter: Arrestment of suspected persons, banishment of all Catholics ten miles from London; likewise registering of horses (to gallop with cannon whither wanted); likewise improvising of cavalry regiments by persons of condition, ‘Set our plush people on our coach-horses; there!’ [Yes, THERE will be a Cavalry,–inferior to General Ziethen’s!]; and were actually drilling them in several places, when that fortunate blast of storm (March 6th) blew everything to quiet again. Field-marshal Earl of Stair, in regard to the Scottish populations, had shown a noble magnanimity; which was recognized: and a General Sir John Cope rode off, post- haste, to take the chief command in that Country;–where, in about eighteen months hence, he made a very shining thing of it!”–Take this other Cutting from the Old Newspapers:–

“FRIDAY, 31st (20th) MARCH, 1744, A general press began for recruiting his Majesty’s regiments, and manning the Fleet; when upwards of 1,000 men were secured in the jails of London and Westminster; being allowed sixpence a head per diem, by the Commissioners of the Land-tax, who examine them, and send those away that are found fit for his Majesty’s service. The same method was taken in each County.” Press ceases; enough being got,–press no more till farther order: 5th (16th) June. [ Gentleman’s
Magazine for 1744, pp. 226, 333.]

Britannic Majesty shaken by such omens, does not in person visit Germany at all this Year; nor, by his Deputies, at all shine on the fields of War as lately. He, his English and he, did indeed come down with their cash in a prompt and manful manner, but showed little other activity this year. Their troops were already in the Netherlands, since Winter last; led now by a Field-marshal Wade, of whom one has heard; to whom joined themselves certain Austrians, under Duc d’Ahremberg, and certain Dutch, under some other man in cocked-hat: the whole of whom, under Marshal Wade’s chief guidance, did as good as nothing whatever. “Inferior in force!” cried Marshal Wade; an indolent incompetent old gentleman, frightful to see in command of troops: “inferior in force!” cried he, which was not at first quite the case. And when, by additions to himself, and deductions (of a most unexpected nature) from his Enemy, he had become nearly double in force, it was all the same: Marshal Wade (against whom indeed was Marechal de Saxe, now in sole command, as we shall see) took shelter in safe places, witnessing therefrom the swift destruction of the Netherlands, and would attempt nothing. Which indeed was perhaps prudent on the Marshal’s part. Much money was spent, and men enough did puddle themselves to death on the clay roads, or bivouacking in the safe swamps; but not the least stroke of battle was got out of them under this old Marshal. Had perhaps “a divided command, though nominal Chief,” poor old gentleman;–yes, and a head that understood nothing of his business withal. One of those same astonishing “Generals” of the English, now becoming known in Natural History; the like of whom, till within these hundred and fifty years, were not heard of among sane Nations. Saxe VERSUS Wade is fearful odds. To judge by the way Saxe has of handling Wade, may not we thank Heaven that it was not HERE in England the trial came on! Lift up both your hands, and bless–not General Wade, quite yet.

THE YOUNG DUKE OF WURTEMBERG GETS A VALEDICTORY ADVICE; AND POLLNITZ A DITTO TESTIMONIAL (February 6th; April 1st, 1744).

February 7th, 1744, Karl Eugen, the young Duke of Wurtemberg,– Friedrich having got, from the Kaiser, due Dispensation (VENIA AETATIS) for the young gentleman, and had him declared Duke Regnant, though only sixteen,–quitted Berlin with great pomp, for his own Country, on that errand. Friedrich had hoped hereby to settle the Wurtemberg matters on a good footing, and be sure of a friend in Wurtemberg to the Kaiser and himself. Which hope, like everybody’s hopes about this young gentleman, was entirely disappointed; said young gentleman having got into perverse, haughty, sulky, ill-conditioned ways, and made a bad Life and Reign of it,–better to lie mostly hidden from us henceforth, at least for many years to come. The excellent Parting Letter which Friedrich gave him got abroad into the world; was christened the MIRROR OF PRINCES, and greatly admired by mankind. It is indeed an almost faultless Piece of its kind; comprising, in a flowing yet precise way, with admirable frankness, sincerity, sagacity, succinctness, a Whole Duty of Regnant Man; [In OEuvres de
Frederic, ix. 4-7.]–but I fear it would only weary the reader; perfect ADVICE having become so plentiful in our Epoch, with little but “pavement” to a certain Locality the consequence!– There is, of the same months, a TESTIMONIAL TO POLLNITZ, which also got abroad and had its celebrity: this, as specimen of Friedrich on the comic side, will perhaps be less afflicting; and it will rid us of Pollnitz, poor soul, on handsome terms.

Goldstick Pollnitz is at Baireuth in these months; fallen quite disconsolate since we last heard of him. His fine marriage went awry,–rich lady, very wisely, drawing back;–and the foolish old creature has decided on REchanging his religion; which he has changed already thrice or so, in his vagabond straits; for the purpose of “retiring to a convent” this time. Friedrich, in candid brief manner, rough but wise, and not without some kindness for an old dog one is used to, has answered, “Nonsense; that will never do!” But Pollnitz persisting; formally demanding leave to demit, and lay down the goldstick, with that view,–Friedrich does at length send him Certificate of Leave; “which is drawn out with all the forms, and was despatched through Eichel to the proper Board;” but which bears date APRIL FIRST, and though officially valid, is of quizzical nature:—perhaps already known to some readers; having got into the Newspapers, and widely abroad, at a subsequent time. As authentic sample of Friedrich in that kind, here it accurately is, with only one or two slight abridgments, which are indicated:–

“Whereas the Baron de Pollnitz, born at Berlin [at Koln, if it made any matter], of honest parents so far as We know,–after having served Our Grandfather as Gentleman of the Chamber, Madam d’Orleans [wicked Regent’s Mother, a famed German Lady] in the same rank, the King of Spain in quality of Colonel, the deceased Kaiser in that of Captain of Horse, the Pope as Chamberlain, the Duke of Brunswick as Chamberlain, Duke of Weimar as Ensign, our Father as Chamberlain, and, in fine, Us as Grand Master of the Ceremonies,”–has, in spite of such accumulation of honors, become disgusted with the world; and requests a Parting Testimony, to support his good reputation,–

“We, remembering his important services to the House, in diverting for nine years long the late King our Father, and doing the honors of our Court during the now Reign, cannot refuse such request; but do hereby certify, That the said Baron has never assassinated, robbed on the highway, poisoned, forcibly cut purses, or done other atrocity or legal crime at our Court; but has always maintained gentlemanly behavior, making not more than honest use of the industry and talents he has been endowed with at birth; imitating the object of the Drama, that is, correcting mankind by gentle quizzing; following, in the matter of sobriety, Boerhaave’s counsels; pushing Christian charity so far as often to make the rich understand that it is more blessed to give than to receive;– possessing perfectly the anecdotes of our various Mansions, especially of our worn-out Furnitures; rendering himself, by his merits, necessary to those who know him; and, with a very bad head, having a very good heart.

“Our anger the said Baron never kindled but once,”–in atrociously violating the grave of an Ancestress (or Step Ancestress) of ours. [Step-Ancestress was Dorothea, the Great Elector’s second Wife; of whom Pollnitz, in his Memoirs and Letters,
repeats the rumor that once she, perhaps, tried to poison her Stepson Friedrich, First King. (See supra, vol. v. p. 47).] “But as the loveliest countries have their barren spots, the beautifulest forms their imperfections, pictures by the greatest masters their faults, We are willing to cover with the veil of oblivion those of the said Baron; do hereby grant him, with regret, the Congee he requires;–and abolish his Office altogether, to blot it from men’s memory, not judging that anybody after the said Baron can be worthy to fill it.
“Done at Potsdam, this 1st of April, 1744. FREDERIC.” [ OEuvres, xv. 193.]

The Office of Grand Master of the Ceremonies was, accordingly, abolished altogether. But Pollnitz, left loose in this manner, did not gallop direct, or go at all, into monkhood, as he had expected; but, in fact, by degrees, crept home to Berlin again; took the subaltern post of Chamberlain; and there, in the old fashion (straitened in finance, making loans, retailing anecdotes, not witty but the cause of wit), wore out life’s gray evening; till, about thirty years hence, he died; “died as he had lived, swindling the very night before his decease,” writes Friedrich; [Letter to Voltaire, 13th August, 1775 ( OEuvres de
Frederic, xxiii. 344). See Preuss, v. 241 (URKUNDENBUCH), the Letters of Friedrich to Pollnitz.] who was always rather kind to the poor old dog, though bantering him a good deal.

TWO CONQUESTS FOR PRUSSIA, A GASEOUS AND A SOLID: CONQUEST FIRST, BARBERINA THE DANCER.

Early in May, the Berlin public first saw its Barberina dance, and wrote ecstatic Latin Epigrams about that miracle of nature and art; [Rodenbeck, pp. 111, 190.]–miracle, alas, not entirely omissible by us. Here is her Story, as the Books give it; slightly mythical, I judge, in some of its non-essential parts; but good enough for the subject:–

Barberina the Dancer had cost Friedrich some trouble; the pains he took with her elegant pirouettings and poussettings, and the heavy salary he gave her, are an unexpected item in his history. He wished to favor the Arts, yes; but did he reckon Opera-dancing a chief one among them? He had indeed built an Opera-House, and gave free admissions, supporting the cost himself; and among his other governings, governed the dancer and singer troops of that establishment. Took no little trouble about his Opera:–yet perhaps he privately knew its place, after all. “Wished to encourage strangers of opulent condition to visit his Capital,” say the cunning ones. It may be so; and, at any rate, he probably wished to act the King in such matters, and not grudge a little money. He really loved music, even opera music, and knew that his people loved it; to the rough natural man, all rhythm, even of a Barberina’s feet, may be didactic, beneficial: do not higgle, let us do what is to be done in a liberal style. His agent at Venice– for he has agents everywhere on the outlook for him–reports that here is a Female Dancer of the first quality, who has shone in London, Paris and the Capital Cities, and might answer well, but whose terms will probably be dear. “Engage her,” answers Friedrich. And she is engaged on pretty terms; she will be free in a month or two, and then start. [Zimmermann, Fragmente uber Friedrich
den Grossen (Leipzig, 1790), i. 88-92; Collini, ubi infra; Denina; &c.: compare Rodenbeck, p. 191.]

Well;–but Barberina had, as is usual, subsidiary trades to her dancing: in particular, a young English Gentleman had followed her up and down, says Zimmermann, and was still here in Venice passionately attached to her. Which fact, especially which young English gentleman, should have been extremely indifferent to me, but for a circumstance soon to be mentioned. The young English gentleman, clear against Barberina’s Prussian scheme, passionately opposes the same, passionately renews his own offers;–induces Barberina to inform the Prussian agent that she renounces her engagement in that quarter. Prussian agent answers that it is not renounceable; that he has legal writing on it, and that it must be kept. Barberina rises into contumacy, will laugh at all writing and compulsion. Prussian agent applies to Doge and Senate on the subject, in his King’s name; who answer politely, but do nothing: “How happy to oblige so great a King; but–” And so it lasts for certain months; Barberina and the young English gentleman contumacious in Venice, and Doge and Senate merely wishing we may get her.

Meanwhile a Venetian Ambassador happens to be passing through Berlin, in his way to or from some Hyperborean State; arrives at some hotel, in Berlin;–finds, on the morrow, that his luggage is arrested by Royal Order; that he, or at least IT, cannot get farther, neither advance nor return, till Barberina do come. “Impossible, Signor: a bargain is a bargain; and States ought to have law-courts that enforce contracts entered into in their territories.” The Venetian Doge and Senate do now lay hold of Barberina; pack her into post-chaises, off towards Berlin, under the charge of armed men, with the proper transit-papers,–as it were under the address, “For his Majesty of Prussia, this side uppermost,”–and thus she actually is conveyed, date or month uncertain, by Innspruck or the Splugen, I cannot say which, over mountain, over valley, from country to country, and from stage to stage, till she arrives at Berlin; Ambassador with baggage having been let go, so soon as the affair was seen to be safe.

As for the young English gentleman passionately attached, he followed, it is understood; faithful, constant as shadow to the sun, always a stage behind; arrived in Berlin two hours after his Barberina, still passionately attached; and now, as the rumor goes, was threatening even to marry her, and so save the matter. Supremely indifferent to my readers and me. But here now is the circumstance that makes it mentionable. The young English is properly a young Scotch gentleman; James Mackenzie the name of him,–a grandson of the celebrated Advocate, Sir George Mackenzie; and younger Brother of a personage who, as Earl of Bute, became extremely conspicuous in this Kingdom in after years. That makes it mentionable,–if only in the shape of MYTH. For Friedrich, according to rumor, being still like to lose his Dancer in that manner, warned the young gentleman’s friends; and had him peremptorily summoned home, and the light fantastic toe left free in that respect. Which procedure the indignant young gentleman (thinks my Author) never forgave; continuing a hater of Friedrich all his days; and instilling the same sentiment into the Earl of Bute at a period which was very critical, as we shall see. This is my Author’s, the often fallacious though not mendacious Dr. Zimmermann’s, rather deliberate account; a man not given to mendacity, though filled with much vague wind, which renders him fallacious in historical points.

Readers of Walpole’s George the Third know
enough of this Mackenzie, “Earl’s Brother, MACKINSY,” and the sorrowful difficulties about his Scotch law-office or benefice; in which matter “Mackinsy” behaves always in a high way, and only the Ministerial Outs and Inns higgle pedler-like, vigilant of the Liberties of England, as they call them. In the end, Mackinsy kept his law-office or got it restored to him; 3,000 pounds a year without excess of work; a man much the gentleman, according to the rule then current: in contemplative rare moments, the man, looking back through the dim posterns of the mind, might see afar off a certain pirouetting Figure, once far from indifferent, and not yet quite melted into cheerless gray smoke, as so much of the rest is– to Mr. Mackinsy and us. I have made, in the Scotch Mackenzie circles, what inquiry was due; find no evidence, but various likelihoods, that this of the Barberina and him is fact, and a piece of his biography. As to the inference deduced from it, in regard to Friedrich and the Earl of Bute, on a critical occasion,– that rests entirely with Zimmermann; and the candid mind inclines to admit that, probably, it is but rumor and conjecture; street-dust sticking to the Doctor’s shoes, and demanding merely to be well swept out again. Heigho!–

Barberina, though a dancer, did not want for more essential graces. Very sprightly, very pretty and intelligent; not without piquancy and pungency: the King himself has been known to take tea with her in mixed society, though nothing more; and with passionate young gentlemen she was very successful. Not long after her coming to Berlin, she made conquest of Cocceji, the celebrated Chancellor’s Son; who finding no other resource, at length privately married her. Voltaire’s Collini, when he came to Berlin, in 1750, recommended by a Signora Sister of the Barberina’s, found the Barberina and her Mother dining daily with this Cocceji as their guest: [Collini, Mon Sejour aupres de Voltaire italic> (a Paris, 1807), pp. 13-19.] Signora Barberina privately informed Collini how the matter was; Signorina still dancing all the same,–though she had money in the English funds withal; and Friedrich had been so generous as give her the fixing of her own salary, when she came to him, this-side-uppermost, in the way we described. She had fixed, too modestly thinks Collini, on 5,000 thalers (about 750 pounds) a year; having heart and head as well as heels, poor little soul. Perhaps her notablest feat in History, after all, was her leading this Collini, as she now did, into the service of Voltaire, to be Voltaire’s Secretary. As will be seen. Whereby we have obtained a loyal little Book, more credible than most others, about that notable man.

At a subsequent period, Barberina decided on declaring her marriage with Cocceji; she drew her money from the English funds, purchased a fine mansion, and went to live with the said Cocceji there, giving up the Opera and public pirouettes. But this did not answer either. Cocceji’s Mother scorned irreconcilably the Opera alliance; Friedrich, who did not himself like it in his Chancellor’s Son, promoted the young man to some higher post in the distant Silesian region. But there, alas, they themselves quarrelled; divorced one another; and rumor again was busy. “You, Cocceji yourself, are but a schoolmaster’s grandson [Barberina, one easily supposes, might have a temper withal]; and it is I, if you will recollect, that drew money from the English funds!” Barberina married again; and to a nobleman of sixteen quarters this time, and with whom at least there was no divorce. Successful with passionate gentlemen; having money from the English funds. Her last name was Grafinn–I really know not what. Her descendants probably still live, with sixteen quarters, in those parts. It was thus she did her life-journey, waltzing and walking; successfully holding her own against the world. History declares itself ashamed of spending so many words on such a subject. But the Dancer of Friedrich, and the authoress, prime or proximate, of Collini’s Voltaire,
claims a passing remembrance. Let us, if we can easily help it, never speak of her more.

CONQUEST SECOND IS OST-FRIESLAND, OF A SOLID NATURE.

May 25th, 1744, just while Barberina began her pirouettings at Berlin, poor Karl Edzard, Prince of East Friesland, long a weak malingering creature, died, rather suddenly; childless, and the last of his House, which had endured there about 300 years. Our clever Wilhelmina at Baireuth, though readers have forgotten the small circumstance, had married a superfluous Sister-in-law of hers to this Karl Edward; and, they say, it was some fond hope of progeny, suddenly dashed into nothingness, that finished the poor man, that night of May 25th. In any case, his Territory falls to Prussia, by Reich’s Settlement of long standing (1683-1694); which had been confirmed anew to the late King, Friedrich Wilhelm: –we remember how he returned with it, honest man, from that KLADRUP JOURNEY in 1732, and was sniffed at for bringing nothing better. And in the interim, his royal Hanover Cousins, coveting East Friesland, had clapt up an ERBVERBRUDERUNG with the poor Prince there (Father, I think, of the one just dead): “A thing ULTRA VIRES,” argued Lawyers; “private, quasi-clandestine; and posterior (in a sense) to Reich’s CONCLUSUM, 1694.”

On which ground, however, George II. now sued Fricdrich at Reich’s Law,–Friedrich, we need not say, having instantly taken possession of Ost-Friesland. And there ensued arguing enough between them, for years coming; very great expenditure of parchment, and of mutual barking at the moon (done always by proxy, and easy to do); which doubtless increased the mutual ill-feeling, but had no other effect. Friedrich, who had been well awake to Ost-Friesland for some time back, and had given his Official people (Cocceji his Minister of Justice, Chancellor by and by, and one or two subordinates) their precise Instructions, laid hold of it, with a maximum of promptitude; thereby quashing a great deal of much more dangerous litigation than Uncle George’s.

“In all Germany, not excepting even Mecklenburg, there had been no more anarchic spot than Ost-Friesland for the last sixty or seventy years. A Country with parliamentary-life in extraordinary vivacity (rising indeed to the suicidal or internecine pitch, in two or three directions), and next to no regent-life at all. A Country that had loved Freedom, not wisely but too well! Ritter Party, Prince’s Party, Towns’ Party;–always two or more internecine Parties: ‘False Parliament you: traitors!’ ‘We? False YOU, traitors!’–The Parish Constable, by general consent, kept walking; but for Government there was this of the Parliamentary Eloquences (three at once), and Freedom’s battle, fancy it, bequeathed from sire to son! ‘The late Karl Edzard never once was in Embden, his chief Town, though he lived within a dozen miles of it.’–And then, still more questionable, all these energetic little Parties had applied to the Neighboring Governments, and had each its small Foreign Battalion, ‘To protect US and our just franchises!’ Imperial Reich’s-Safeguard Battalion, Dutch Battalion, Danish Battalion,–Prussian, it first of all was (year 1683, Town of Embden inviting the Great Elector), but it is not so now. The Prussians had needed to be quietly swift, on that 25th day of May, 1744.

“And truly they were so; Cocceji having all things ready; leading party-men already secured to him, troops within call, and the like. The Prussians–Embden Town-Councils inviting their astonished Dutch Battalion not to be at home–marched quietly into Embden ‘next day,’ and took possession of the guns. Marched to Aurich (official metropolis), Danes and Imperial Safeguard saying nothing; and, in short, within a week had, in their usual exact fashion, got firm hold of chaotic Ost-Friesland. And proceeded to manage it, in like sort,–with effects soon sensible, and steadily continuing. Their Parliamentary-life Friedrich left in its full vigor: ‘Tax yourselves; what revenue you like; and see to the outlay of it yourselves. Allow me, as LANDES-HERR, some trifle of overplus: how much, then? Furthermore a few recruits,–or recruit- money in lieu, if you like better!’ And it was astonishing how the Parliamentary vitality, not shortened of its least franchise, or coerced in any particular, but merely stroked the right way of the hair, by a gently formidable hand, with good head guiding, sank almost straightway into dove-life, and never gave Friedrich any trouble, whatever else it might do. The management was good; the opportunity also was good. ‘In one sitting, the Prussian Agent, arbitrating between Embden and the Ritters, settled their controversy, which had lasted fifty years.’ The poor Country felt grateful, which it might well do; as if for the laying of goblins, for the ending of long-continued local typhoon! Friedrich’s first Visit, in 1751, was welcomed with universal jubilation; and poor Ost-Friesland thanked him in still more solid ways, when occasion rose. [Ranke, iii. 370-382.]

“It is not an important Country:–only about the size of Cheshire; wet like it, and much inferior to it in cheese, in resources for leather and live-stock, though it perhaps excels, again, in clover- seeds, rape-seeds, Flanders horses, and the flax products. The ‘clear overplus’ it yielded to Friedrich, as Sovereign Administrator and Defender, was only 3,200 pounds; for recruit- MONEY, 6,000 pounds (no recruits in CORPORE); in all, little more than 9,000 pounds a year. But it had its uses too. Embden, bigger than Chester, and with a better harbor, was a place of good trade; and brought Friedrich into contact with sea-matters; in which, as we shall find, he did make some creditable incipiencies, raising expectations in the world; and might have carried it farther, had not new Wars, far worse than this now at hand, interrupted him.”

Friedrich was at Pyrmont, taking the waters, while this of Friesland fell out; he had gone thither May 20th; was just arrived there, four days before the death of Karl Edzard. [Rodenbeck, p. 102.] His Officials, well pre-instructed, managed the Ost- Friesland Question mainly themselves. Friedrich was taking the waters; ostensibly nothing more. But he was withal, and still more earnestly, consulting with a French Excellency (who also had felt a need of the waters), about the French Campaign for this Season: Whether Coigny was strong enough in the Middle-Rhine Countries; how their Grand Army of the Netherlands shaped to prosper; and other the like interesting points. [Ranke, iii. 165, 166.] Frankfurt Union is just signed (May 22d). Most Christian Majesty is himself under way to the Netherlands, himself going to command there, as we shall see. “Good!” answers Friedrich: “But don’t weaken Coigny, think of Prince Karl on that side; don’t detach from Coigny, and reduce his 60,000 to 40,000!”

Plenty of mutual consulting, as they walk in the woods there. And how profoundly obscure, to certain Official parties much concerned, judge from the following small Document, preserved by accident:–

LYTTELTON (our old Soissons Friend, now an Official in Prince Fred’s Household, friend of Pitt, and much else) TO HIS FATHER AT HAGLEY.

ARGYLE STREET, LONDON, “May 5th [16th], 1744. “DEAR SIR,–Mr. West [Gilbert West, of whom there is still some memory] comes with us to Hagley; and, if you give me leave, I will bring our friend Thomson too”–oh Jamie Thamson, Jamie Thamson, oh! “His SEASONS will be published in about a week’s time, and a most noble work they will be.

“I have no public news to tell you, which you have not had in the Gazettes, except what is said in Private Letters from Germany, of the King of Prussia’s having drunk himself into direct madness, and being confined on that account; which, if true, may have a great effect upon the fate of Europe at this critical time.” Yes indeed, if true. “Those Letters say, that, at a review, he caused two men to be taken out of the line, and shot, without any cause assigned for it, and ordered a third to be murdered in the same manner; but the Major of the regiment venturing to intercede for him, his Majesty drew his sword, and would have killed the Officer too, if he, perceiving his madness, had not taken the liberty to save himself, by disarming the King; who was immediately shut up; and the Queen, his Mother, has taken the Regency upon herself till his recovery.” PAPAE! “I do not give you this news for certain; but it is generally believed in town. Lord Chesterfield says, ‘He is only thought to be MAD in Germany, because he has MORE WIT than other Germans.’

“The King of Sardinia’s Retreat from his lines at Villa Franca, and the loss of that Town [20th April, one of those furious tussles, French and Spaniard VERSUS Sardinian Majesty, in the COULISSES or side-scenes of the Italian War-Theatre, neither stage nor side- scenes of which shall concern us in this place], certainly bear a very ill aspect; but it is not considered as”–anything to speak of; nor was it. “We expect with impatience to know what will be the effect of the Dutch Ambassador to Paris,–[to Valenciennes, as it turns out, King Louis, on his high errand to the Netherlands, being got so far; and the “effect” was no effect at all, except good words on his part, and persistence in the battering down of Menin and the Dutch Barrier, of which we shall hear ere long].

“I pray God the Summer may be happy to us, by being more easy than usual to you,”–dear Father, much suffering by incurable ailments. “It is the only thing wanting to make Hagley Park a Paradise.

“Poor Pope is, I am afraid, going to resign all that can die of him to death;”–did actually die, 30th May (10th June): a world-tragedy that too, though in small compass, and acting itself next door, at Twickenham, without noise; a star of the firmament going out;– twin-star, Swift (Carteret’s old friend), likewise going out, sunk in the socket, “a driveller and a show.” … “I am, with the truest respect and affection, dear Sir, your most dutiful Son,–

“GEORGE LYTTELTON.”
[Ayscough, Lord Lyttelton’s Miscellaneous Works, italic> (Lond., 1776), iii. 318.]

Friedrich returned from Pyrmont, 11th June; saw, with a grief of his own, with many thoughts well hidden, his Sister Ulrique whirled away from him, 26th July, in the gray of the summer dawn. In Berlin, in Prussia, nobody but one is aware of worse just coming. And now the War-drums suddenly awaken again; and poor readers–not to speak of poor Prussia and its King!–must return to that uncomfortable sphere, till things mend.