KING. “‘Between Traun and the former there is not much difference; but what a difference, BON DIEU, between the latter and me!’
“I named to him the Count d’Althan, who had been Adjutant-General, and the Count de Pellegrini. He asked me twice which was which, from the distance we were at; and said, He was so short-sighted, I must excuse him.
EGO. “‘Nevertheless, Sire, in the war your sight was good enough; and, if I remember right, it reached very far!’
KING. “‘It was not I; it was my glass.’
EGO. “‘Ha, I should have liked to find that glass;–but, I fear it would have suited my eyes as little as Scanderbeg’s sword my arm.’
“I forget how the conversation changed; but I know it grew so free that, seeing somebody coming to join in it, the King warned him to take care; that it was n’t safe to converse with a man doomed by the theologians to Everlasting Fire. I felt as if he somewhat overdid this of his ‘being doomed,’ and that he boasted too much of it. Not to hint at the dishonesty of these free-thinking gentlemen (MESSIEURS LES ESPRITS FORTS), who very often are thoroughly afraid of the Devil, it is, at least, bad taste to make display of such things: and it was with the people of bad taste whom he has had about him, such as a Jordan, a D’Argens, Maupertuis, La Beaumelle, La Mettrie, Abbe de Prades, and some dull sceptics of his own Academy, that he had acquired the habit of mocking at Religion; and of talking (DE PARLER) Dogma, Spinoism, Court of Rome and the like. In the end, I did n’t always answer when he touched upon it. I now seized a moment’s interval, while he was using his handkerchief, to speak to him about some business, in connection with the Circle of Westphalia, and a little COMTE IMMEDIAT [County holding direct, of the Reich] which I have there. The King answered me: ‘I, for my part, will do anything you wish; but what thinks the other Director, my comrade, the Elector of Cologne, about it?’
EGO. “‘I was not aware, Sire, that you were an Ecclesiastical Elector.’
KING. “‘I am so; at least on my Protestant account.’
EGO. “‘That is not to OUR account’s advantage! Those good people of mine believe your Majesty to be their protector.’
“He continued asking me the names of persons he saw. I was telling him those of a number of young Princes who had lately entered the Service, and some of whom gave hopes. ‘That may be,’ said he; ‘but I think the breed of the governing races ought to be crossed. I like the children of love: look at the Marechal de Saxe, and my own Anhalt [severe Adjutant von Anhalt, a bastard of Prinz Gustav, the Old Dessauer’s Heir-Apparent, who begot a good many bastards, but died before inheriting: bastards were brought up, all of them to soldiering, by their Uncles,—this one by Uncle Moritz; was thrown from his horse eight years HENCE, to the great joy of many]; though I am afraid that SINCE [mark this SINCE, alas!] his fall on his head, that latter is not so good as formerly. I should be grieved at it, [Not for eight years yet, MON PRINCE, I am sorry to say! Adjutant von Anhalt did, in reality, get this fall, and damaging hurt on the head, in the “Bavarian War” (nicknamed KARTOFFEL-KRIEG, “Potato-War”), 1778-1779.
Lexikon,
“I am glad to remember this; for I have heard it said by silly slanderous people (SOTS DENIGRANTS), who accuse the King of Prussia of insensibility, that he was not touched by the accident which happened to the man he seemed to love most. Too happy if one had only said that of him! He was supposed to be jealous of the merit of Schwerin and of Keith, and delighted to have got them killed. It is thus that mediocre people seek to lower great men, to diminish the immense space that lies between themselves and such.
“Out of politeness, the King, and his Suite as well, had put on white [Austrian] Uniforms, not to bring back on us that blue which we had so often seen in war. He looked as though he belonged to our Army and to the Kaiser’s suite. There was, in this Visit, I believe, on both sides, a little personality, some distrust, and perhaps a beginning of bitterness;–as always happens, says Philippe de Comines, when Sovereigns meet. The King took Spanish snuff, and brushing it off with his hand from his coat as well as he could, he said, ‘I am not clean enough for you, Messieurs; I am not worthy to wear your colors.’ The air with which he said this, made me think he would yet soil them with powder, if the opportunity arose.
“I forgot a little Incident which gave me an opportunity of setting off (FAIRE VALOIR) the two Monarchs to each other [Incident about the King’s high opinion of the Kaiser’s drill-sergeantry in this day’s manoeuvres, and how I was the happy cause of the Kaiser’s hearing it himself: Incident omissible; as the whole Sequel is, except a sentence or two].–
… “On this Neustadt occasion, the King was sometimes too ceremonious; which annoyed the Kaiser. For instance,–I know not whether meaning to show himself a disciplined Elector of the Reich, but so it was,–whenever the Kaiser put his foot in stirrup, the King was sure to take his Majesty’s horse by the bridle, stand respectfully waiting the Kaiser’s right foot, and fit it into ITS stirrup: and so with everything else. The Kaiser had the more sincere appearance, in testifying his great respect; like that of a young Prince to an aged King, and of a young Soldier to the greatest of Captains. …
“Sometimes there were appearances of cordiality between the two Sovereigns. One saw that Friedrich II. loved Joseph II., but that the preponderance of the Empire, and the contact of Bohemia and Silesia, a good deal barred the sentiments of King and Kaiser. You remember, Sire [Ex-Sire of Poland], their LETTERS [readers shall see them, in 1778,–or rather REFUSE to see them!’] on the subject of Bavaria; their compliments, the explanations they had with regard to their intentions; all carried on with such politeness; and that from politeness to politeness, the King ended by invading Bohemia.”
Well, here is legible record, with something really of portraiture in it, valuable so far as it goes; record unique on this subject;– and substantially true, though inexact enough in details. Thus, even in regard to that of Anhalt’s HEAD, which is so impossible in this First Dialogue, Friedrich did most probably say something of the kind, in a Second which there is, of date 1780; of which latter De Ligne is here giving account as well,–though we have to postpone it till its time come.
At this Neustadt Interview there did something of Political occur; and readers ought to be shown exactly what. Kaunitz had come with the Kaiser; and this something was intended as the real business among the gayeties and galas at Neustadt. Poland, or its Farce- Tragedy now playing, was not once mentioned that I hear of; though perhaps, as FLEBILE LUDIBRIUM, it might turn up for moments in dinner-conversation or the like: but the astonishing Russian- Turk War, which has sprung out of Poland, and has already filled Stamboul and its Divans and Muftis with mere horror and amazement; and, in fact, has brought the Grand Turk to the giddy rim of the Abyss; nothing but ruin and destruction visible to him: this, beyond all other things whatever, is occupying these high heads at present;–and indeed the two latest bits of Russian-Turk news have been of such a blazing character as to occupy all the world more or less. Readers, some glances into the Turk War, I grieve to say, are become inevitable to us!
RUSSIAN-TURK WAR, FIRST TWO CAMPAIGNS.
“OCTOBER 6th, 1768, Turks declare War; Russian Ambassador thrown into the Seven Towers as a preliminary, where he sat till Peace came to be needed. MARCH 23d, 1769, Display their Banner of Mahomet, all in paroxysm of Fanaticism risen to the burning point: ‘Under pain of death, No Giaour of you appear on the streets, nor even look out, of window, this day!’ Austrian Ambassador’s Wife, a beautiful gossamer creature, venturing to transgress on that point, was torn from her carriage by the Populace, and with difficulty saved from destruction: Brother of the Sun and Moon, apologizing afterwards down to the very shoe-tie, is forgiven.”
FIRST CAMPAIGN; 1769. “APRIL 26th-30th, Galitzin VERSUS Choczim; can’t, having no provender or powder. Falls back over Dniester again,–overhears that extraordinary DREAM, as above recited, betokening great rumor in Russian Society against such Purblind Commanders-in-Chief. Purblind VERSUS Blind is fine play, nevertheless; wait, only wait:–
“JULY 2d, Galitzin slowly gets on the advance again: 150,000 Turks, still slower, are at last across the Donau (sharp enough French Officers among them, agents of Choiseul; but a mass incurably chaotic);–furiously intending towards Poland and extermination of the Giaour. Do not reach Dniester River till September, and look across on Poland,–for the first time, and also for the last, in this War. SEPTEMBER 17th: Weather has been rainy; Dniester, were Galitzin nothing, is very difficult for Turks; who try in two places, but cannot. [Hermann, v. 611-613.] In a third place (name not given, perhaps has no name), about 12,000 of them are across; when Dniester, raging into flood, carries away their one Bridge, and leaves the 12,000 isolated there. Purblind Galitzin, on express order, does attack these 12,000 (night of September 17th-18th):– ‘Hurrah’ of the devouring Russians about midnight, hoarse shriek of the doomed 12,000, wail of their brethren on the southern shore, who cannot, help:–night of horrors ‘from midnight till 2 A.M.;’ and the 12,000 massacred or captive, every man of them; Russian loss 600 killed and wounded. Whereupon the Turk Army bursts into unanimous insanity; and flows home in deliquium of ruin. Choczim is got on the terms already mentioned (15 sick men and women lying in it, and 184 bronze cannon, when we boat across); Turk Army can by no effort be brought to halt anywhere; flows across the Donau, disappears into Chaos:–and the whole of Moldavia is conquered in this cheap manner. What, perhaps is still better, Galitzin (28th September) is thrown out; Romanzow, hitherto Commander of a second smaller Army, kind of covering wing to Galitzin, is Chief for Second Campaign.
“In the Humber, this Winter, to the surprise of incredulous mankind, a Russian Fleet drops anchor for a few days: actual Russian Fleet intending for the Greek waters, for Montenegro and intermediate errands, to conclude with ‘Liberation of Greece next Spring,’–so grandiose is this Czarina.” [Hermann, v. 617.]
SECOND CAMPAIGN; 1770. “This is the flower of Anti-Turk Campaigns, –victorious, to a blazing pitch, both by land and sea. Romanzow, master of Moldavia, goes upon Wallachia, and the new or rehabilitated Turk Army; and has an almost gratis bargain of both. Romanzow has some good Officers under him (‘Brigadier Stoffeln,’ much more ‘General Tottlenen,’ ‘General Bauer,’ once Colonel Bauer of the Wesel Free-Corps,–many of the Superior Officers seem to be German, others have Swedish or Danish names);–better Officers; and knows better how to use them than Galitzin did. August 1st, Romanzow has a Battle, called of Kaghul, in Pruth Country. That is his one ‘Battle’ this Summer; and brings him Ismail, Akkerman, all Wallachey, and no Turks left in those parts. But first let us attend to sea-matters, and the Liberation of Greece, which precede in time and importance.
“‘Liberation of Greece:’ an actual Fleet, steering from Cronstadt to the Dardanelles to liberate Greece! The sound of it kindles all the warm heads in Europe; especially Voltaire’s, which, though covered with the snow of age, is still warm internally on such points. As to liberating Greece, Voltaire’s hopes were utterly balked; but the Fleet from Cronstadt did amazing service otherwise in those waters. FEBRUARY 28th, 1770, first squadron of the Russian Fleet anchors at Passawa,–not far from Calamata, in the Gulf of Coron, on the antique Peloponnesian coast; Sparta on your right hand, Arcadia on your left, and so many excellent Ghosts (?#J&JL +J&) of Heroes looking on:–Russian squadron has four big ^^^^^^^^^^^^–(THIS IS GREEK TEXT) PAGE 291, BOOK XXI——-
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ships, three frigates, more soon to follow: on board there are arms and munitions of war; but unhappily only 500 soldiers. Admiral-in- Chief (not yet come up) is Alexei Orlof, a brother of Lover Gregory’s, an extremely worthless seaman and man. Has under him ‘many Danes, a good few English too,’–especially Three English Officers, whom we shall hear of, when Alexei and they come up. Meanwhile, on the Peloponnesian coast are modern Spartans, to the number of 15,000, all sitting ready, expecting the Russian advent: these rose duly; got Russian muskets, cartridges,–only two Russian Officers:–and attacked the Turks with considerable fury or voracity, but with no success of the least solidity. Were foiled here, driven out there; in fine, were utterly beaten, Russians and they: lost Tripolizza, by surprise; whereupon (April 19th) the Russians withdrew to their Fleet; and the Affair of Greece was at an end. [Hermann, v. 621.] It had lasted (28th February-19th April) seven weeks and a day. The Russians retired to their Fleet, with little loss; and rode at their ease again, in Navarino Bay. But the 15,000 modern Spartans had nothing to retire to,–these had to retire into extinction, expulsion and the throat of Moslem vengeance, which was frightfully bloody and inexorable on them.
“Greece having failed, the Russian Fleet, now in complete tale, made for Turkey, for Constantinople itself. ‘Into the very Dardanelles’ they say they will go; an Englishman among them– Captain Elphinstone, a dashing seaman, if perhaps rather noisy, whom Rulhiere is not blind to–has been heard to declare, at least in his cups: ‘Dardanelles impossible? Pshaw, I will do it, as easily as drink this glass of wine!’ Alexei Orlof is a Sham- Admiral; but under him are real Sea-Officers, one or two.
“In the Turkish Fleet, it seems, there is an Ex-Algerine, Hassan Bey, of some capacity in sea-matters; but he is not in chief command, only in second; and can accomplish nothing. The Turkish Fleet, numerous but rotten, retires daily,–through the famed Cyclades, and Isles of Greece, Paros, Naxos, apocalyptic Patmos, on to Scio (old Chios of the wines); and on July 5th takes refuge behind Scio, between Scio and the Coast of Smyrna, in Tchesme Bay. ‘Safe here!’ thinks the chief Turk Admiral. ‘Very far from safe!’ remonstrates Hassan; though to no purpose. And privately puts the question to himself, ‘Have these Giaours a real Admiral among them, or, like us, only a sham one?'”
TCHESME BAY, 7th JULY, 1770. “Nothing can be more imaginary than Alexei Orlof as an Admiral: but he has a Captain Elphinstone, a Captain Gregg, a Lieutenant Dugdale; and these determine to burn poor Hassan and his whole Fleet in Tchesme here:–and do it totally, night of July 7th; with one single fireship; Dugdale steering it; Gregg behind him, to support with broadsides; Elphinstone ruling and contriving, still farther to rear; helpless Turk Fleet able to make no debate whatever. Such a blaze of conflagration on the helpless Turks as shone over all the world –one of Rulhiere’s finest fire-works, with little shot;–the light of which was still dazzling mankind while the Interview at Neustadt took place. Turk Fleet, fifteen ships, nine frigates and above 8,000 men, gone to gases and to black cinders,–Hassan hardly escaping with I forget how many score of wounds and bruises. [Hermann, v. 623.]
“‘Now for the Dardanelles,’ said Elphinstone: (bombard Constantinople, starve it,–to death, or to what terms you will!’ ‘Cannot be done; too dangerous; impossible!’ answered the sham Admiral, quite in a tremor, they say;–which at length filled the measure of Elphinstone’s disgusts with such a Fleet and Admiral. Indignant Elphinstone withdrew to his own ship, ‘Adieu, Sham- Admiral!’–sailed with his own ship, through the impossible Dardanelles (Turk batteries firing one huge block of granite at him, which missed; then needing about forty minutes to load again); feat as easy to Elphinstone as this glass of wine. In sight of Constantinople, Elphinstone, furthermore, called for his tea; took his tea on deck, under flourishing of all his drums and all his trumpets: tea done, sailed out again scathless; instantly threw up his command,–and at Petersburg, soon after, in taking leave of the Czarina, signified to her, in language perhaps too plain, or perhaps only too painfully true, some Naval facts which were not welcome in that high quarter.” [Rulhiere, iii. 476-509.] This remarkable Elphinstone I take to be some junior or irregular Balmerino scion; but could never much hear of him except in RULHIERE, where, on vague, somewhat theatrical terms, he figures as above.
“AUGUST 1st, Romanzow has a ‘Battle of Kaghul,’ so they call it; though it is a ‘Slaughtery’ or SCHLACHTEREI, rather than a ‘Slaught’ or SCHLACHT, say my German friends. Kaghul is not a specific place, but a longish river, a branch of the Pruth; under screen of which the Grand Turk Army, 100,000 strong, with 100,000 Tartars as second line, has finally taken position, and fortified itself with earthworks and abundant cannon. AUGUST 1st, 1770, Romanzow, after study and advising, feels prepared for this Grand Army and its earthworks: with a select 20,000, under select captains, Romanzow, after nightfall, bursts in upon it, simultaneously on three different points; and gains, gratis or nearly so, such a victory as was never heard of before. The Turks, on their earthworks, had 140 cannons; these the Turk gunners fired off two times, and fled, leaving them for Romanzow’s uses. The Turk cavalry then tried if they could not make some attempt at charging; found they could not; whirled back upon their infantry; set it also whirling: and in a word, the whole 200,000 whirled, without blow struck; and it was a universal panic rout, and delirious stampede of flight, which never paused (the very garrisons emptying themselves, and joining in it) till it got across the Donau again, and drew breath there, not to rally or stand, but to run rather slower. And had left Wallachia, Bessarabia, Dniester river, Donau river, swept clear of Turks; all Romanzow’s henceforth. To such astonishment of an invincible Grand Turk, and of his Moslem Populations, fallen on such a set of Giaours [“ALLAH KERIM, And cannot we abolish them, then?” Not we THEM, it would appear!],–as every reader can imagine.” Which shall suffice every reader here in regard to the Turk War, and what concern he has in the extremely brutish phenomenon.
Tchesme fell out July 7th; Elphinstone has hardly done his tea in the Dardanelles, when (August 1st) this of Kaghul follows: both would be fresh news blazing in every head while the Dialogues between Friedrich and Kaunitz were going on. For they “had many dialogues,” Friedrich says; “and one of the days” (probably September 6th) was mainly devoted to Politics, to deep private Colloquy with Kaunitz. Of which, and of the great things that followed out of it, I will now give, from Friedrich’s own hand, the one entirely credible account I have anywhere met with in writing.
Friedrich’s account of Kaunitz himself is altogether life-like: a solemn, arrogant, mouthing, browbeating kind of man,–embarrassed at present by the necessity not to browbeat, and by the consciousness that “King Friedrich is the only man who refuses to acknowledge my claims to distinction:” [Rulhiere (somewhere) has heard this, as an utterance of Kaunitz’s in some plaintive moment.] –a Kaunitz whose arrogances, qualities and claims this King is not here to notice, except as they concern business on hand. He says, “Kaunitz had a clear intellect, greatly twisted by perversities of temper (UN SENS DROIT, L’ESPRIT REMPLI DE TRAVERS), especially by a self-conceit and arrogance which were boundless. He did not talk, but preach. At the smallest interruption, he would stop short in indignant surprise: it has happened that, at the Council-Board in Schonbrunn, when Imperial Majesty herself asked some explanation of a word or thing not understood by her, Kaunitz made his bow (LUI TIRA SA REVERENCE), and quitted the room.” Good to know the nature of the beast. Listen to him, then, on those terms, since it is necessary. The Kaunitz Sermon was of great length, imbedded in circumlocutions, innuendoes and diplomatic cautions; but the gist of it we gather to have been (abridged into dialogue form) essentially as follows:–
KAUNITZ. “Dangerous to the repose of Europe, those Russian encroachments on the Turk. Never will Imperial Majesty consent that Russia possess Moldavia or Wallachia; War sooner,–all things sooner! These views of Russia are infinitely dangerous to everybody. To your Majesty as well, if I may say so; and no remedy conceivable against them,–to me none conceivable,–but this only, That Prussia and Austria join frankly in protest and absolute prohibition of them.”
FRIEDRICH. “I have nothing more at heart than to stand well with Austria; and always to be her ally, never her enemy. But your Highness sees how I am situated: bound by express Treaty with Czarish Majesty; must go with Russia in any War! What can I do? I can, and will with all industry, labor to conciliate Czarish Majesty and Imperial; to produce at Petersburg such a Peace with the Turks as may meet the wishes of Vienna. Let us hope it can be done. By faithful endeavoring, on my part and on yours, I persuade myself it can. Meanwhile, steadfastly together, we two! All our little rubs, custom-house squabbles on the Frontier, and such like, why not settle them here, and now? [and does so with his Highness.] That there be nothing but amity, helpfulness and mutual effort towards an object so momentous to us both, and to all mankind!”
KAUNITZ. “Good so far. And may a not intolerable Turk-Russian Peace prove possible, without our fighting for it! Meanwhile, Imperial Majesty [as she has been visibly doing for some time] must continue massing troops and requisites on the Hungarian Frontier, lest the contrary happen!”
This was the result arrived at. Of which Friedrich “judged it but polite to inform the young Kaiser; who appeared to be grateful for this mark of attention, being much held down by Kaunitz in his present state of tutelage.” [
And by a singular chance, on the very morrow there arrived from the Divan (dated August 12th) an Express to Friedrich: “Mediate a Peace for us with Russia; not you alone, as we have often asked, but Austria AND you!” For the Kaghul Slaughtery has come on us; Giaour Elphinstone has taken tea in the Dardanelles; and we know not to what hand to turn!–“The young Kaiser did not hide his joy at this Overture, as Kaunitz did his, which was perhaps still greater:” the Kaiser warmly expressed his thanks to Friedrich as the Author of it; Kaunitz, with a lofty indifference (MORGUE), and nose in air as over a small matter, “merely signified his approval of this step which the Turks had taken.”
“Never was mediation undertaken with greater pleasure,” adds the King. And both did proceed upon it with all zeal; but only the King as real “mediator,” or MIDDLEman; Kaunitz from the first planting himself immovably upon the Turk side of things, which is likewise the Austrian; and playing in secret (as Friedrich probably expected he would) the strangest tricks with his assumed function.
So that Friedrich had to take the burden of mediating altogether on himself; and month after month, year after year, it is evident he prosecutes the same with all the industry and faculty that are in him,–in intense desire, and in hope often nearly desperate, to keep his two neighbors’ houses, and his own and the whole world along with them, from taking fire. Apart from their conflicting interests, the two Empresses have privately a rooted aversion to one another. What with Russian exorbitancy (a Czarina naturally uplifted with her Tchesmes and Kaghuls); what with Austrian cupidity, pride, mulishness, and private trickery of Kaunitz; the adroit and heartily zealous Friedrich never had such a bit of diplomacy to do. For many months hence, in spite of his intensest efforts and cunningest appliances, no way of egress visible: “The imbroglio MUST catch fire!” At last a way opens, “Ha, at last a way!”–then, for above a twelvemonth longer, such a guiding of the purblind quadrupeds and obstinate Austrian mules into said way: and for years more such an urging of them, in pig-driver fashion, along the same, till Peace did come!–
And here, without knowing it, we have insensibly got to the topmost summit of our Polish Business; one small step more, and we shall be on the brow of the precipitous inclined-plane, down which Poland and its business go careering thenceforth, down, down,–and will need but few words more from us. Actual discovery of “a way out” stands for next Section.
First, however, we will notice, as prefatory, a curious occurrence in the Country of Zips, contiguous to the Hungarian Frontier. Zips, a pretty enough District, of no great extent, had from time immemorial belonged to Hungary; till, above 300 years ago, it was– by Sigismund SUPER GRAMMATICAM, a man always in want of money (whom we last saw, in flaming color, investing Friedrich’s Ancestor with Brandenburg instead of payment for a debt of money)–pledged to the Crown of Poland for a round sum to help in Sigismund’s pressing occasions. Redemption by payment never followed; attempt at redemption there had never been, by Sigismund or any of his successors. Nay, one successor, in a Treaty still extant, [Preuss, iv. 32 (date 1589; pawning had beep 1412).] expressly gave up the right of redeeming: Pledge forfeited: a Zips belonging to Polish Crown and Republic by every law.
Well; Imperial Majesty, as we have transiently seen, is assembling troops on the Hungarian Frontier, for a special purpose. Poor Poland is, by this time (1770), as we also saw, sunk in Pestilence,–pigs and dogs devouring the dead bodies: not a loaf to be had for a hundred ducats, and the rage of Pestilence itself a mild thing to that of Hunger, not to mention other rages. So that both Austria and Prussia, in order to keep out Pestilence at least, if they cannot the other rages, have had to draw CORDONS, or lines of troops along the Frontiers. “The Prussian cordon,” I am informed, “goes from Crossen, by Frankfurt northward, to the Weichsel River and border of Warsaw Country:” and “is under the command of General Belling,” our famous Anti-Swede Hussar of former years. The Austrian cordon looks over upon Zips and other Starosties, on the Hungarian Border: where, independently of Pestilence, an alarmed and indignant Empress-Queen has been and is assembling masses of troops, with what object we know. Looking over into Zips in these circumstances, indignant Kaunitz and Imperial Majesty, especially HIS Imperial Majesty, a youth always passionate for territory, say to themselves, “Zips was ours, and in a sense is!”–and (precise date refused us, but after Neustadt, and before Winter has quite come) push troops across into Zips Starosty: seize the whole Thirteen Townships of Zips, and not only these, but by degrees tract after tract of the adjacencies: “Must have a Frontier to our mind in those parts: indefensible otherwise!” And quietly set up boundary-pillars, with the Austrian double-eagle stamped on them, and intimation to Zips and neighborhood, That it is now become Austrian, and shall have no part farther in these Polish Confederatings, Pestilences, rages of men, and pigs devouring dead bodies, but shall live quiet under the double-eagle as others do. Which to Zips, for the moment, might be a blessed change, welcome or otherwise; but which awoke considerable amazement in the outer world,–very considerable in King Stanislaus (to whom, on applying, Kaunitz would give no explanation the least articulate);–and awoke, in the Russian Court especially, a rather intense surprise and provocation.
PRINCE HENRI HAS BEEN TO SWEDEN; IS SEEN AT PETERSBURG IN MASQUERADE (on or about New-year’s Day, 1771); AND DOES GET HOME, WITH RESULTS THAT ARE IMPORTANT.
Prince Henri, as we noticed, was not of this Second King-and-Kaiser Interview; Henri had gone in the opposite direction,–to Sweden, on a visit to his Sister Ulrique,–off for West and North, just in the same days while the King was leaving Potsdam for Silesia and his other errand in the Southeast parts. Henri got to Drottingholm, his Sister’s country Palace near Stockholm, by the “end of August;” and was there with Queen Ulrique and Husband during these Neustadt manoeuvres. A changed Queen Ulrique, since he last saw her “beautiful as Love,” whirling off in the dead of night for those remote Countries and destinies. [Supra, viii. 309.] She is now fifty, or on the edge of it, her old man sixty,–old man dies within few months. They have had many chagrins, especially she, as the prouder, has had, from their contumacious People,–contumacious Senators at least (strong always both in POCKET-MONEY French or Russian, and in tendency to insolence and folly),–who once, I remember, demanded sight and count of the Crown-Jewels from Queen Ulrique: “There, VOILA, there are they!” said the proud Queen; “view them, count them,–lock them up: never more will I wear one of them!” But she has pretty Sons grown to manhood, one pretty Daughter, a patient good old Husband; and Time, in Sweden too, brings its roses; and life is life, in spite of contumacious bribed Senators and doggeries that do rather abound. Henri stayed with her six or seven weeks; leaves Sweden, middle of October, 1770,–not by the straight course homewards: “No, verily, and well knew why!” shrieks the indignant Polish world on us ever since.
It is not true that Friedrich had schemed to send Henri round by Petersburg. On the contrary, it was the Czarina, on ground of old acquaintanceship, who invited him, and asked his Brother’s leave to do it. And if Poland got its fate from the circumstance, it was by accident, and by the fact that Poland’s fate was drop-ripe, ready to fall by a touch.–Before going farther, here is ocular view of the shrill-minded, serious and ingenious Henri, little conscious of being so fateful a man:-
PRINCE HENRI IN WHITE DOMINO. “Prince Henri of Prussia,” says Richardson, the useful Eye-witness cited already, “is one of the most celebrated Generals of the present age. So great are his military talents, that his Brother, who is not apt to pay compliments, says of him,–That, in commanding an army, he was never known to commit a fault. This, however, is but a negative kind of praise. He [the King] reserves to himself the glory of superior genius, which, though capable of brilliant achievements, is yet liable to unwary mistakes: and allows him no other than the praise of correctness.
“To judge of Prince Henri by his appearance, I should form no high estimate of his abilities. But the Scythian Ambassadors judged in the same manner of Alexander the Great. He is under the middle size; very thin; he walks firmly enough, or rather struts, as if he wanted to walk firmly; and has little dignity in his air or gesture. He is dark-complexioned; and he wears his hair, which is remarkably thick, clubbed, and dressed with a high toupee. His forehead is high; his eyes large and blue, with a little squint; and when he smiles, his upper lip is drawn up a little in the middle. His look expresses sagacity and observation, but nothing very amiable; and his manner is grave and stiff rather than affable. He was dressed, when I first saw him, in a light-blue frock with silver frogs; and wore a red waistcoat and blue breeches. He is not very popular among the Russians; and accordingly their wits are disposed to amuse themselves with his appearance, and particularly with his toupee. They say he resembles Samson; that all his strength lies in his hair; and that, conscious of this, and recollecting the fate of the son of Manoah, he suffers not the nigh approaches of any deceitful Delilah. They say he is like the Comet, which, about fifteen months ago, appeared so formidable in the Russian hemisphere; and which, exhibiting a small watery body, but a most enormous train, dismayed the Northern and Eastern Potentates with ‘fear of change.’
“I saw him a few nights ago [on or about New-year’s Day, 1771; come back to us, from his Tour to Moscow, three weeks before; and nothing but galas ever since] at a Masquerade in the Palace, said to be the most magnificent thing of the kind ever seen at the Russian Court. Fourteen large rooms and galleries were opened for the accommodation of the masks; and I was informed that there were present several thousand people. A great part of the company wore dominos, or capuchin dresses; though, besides these, some fanciful appearances afforded a good deal of amusement. A very tall Cossack appeared completely arrayed in the ‘hauberk’s twisted mail.’ He was indeed very grim and martial. Persons in emblematical dresses, representing Apollo and the Seasons, addressed the Empress in speeches suited to their characters. The Empress herself, at the time I saw her Majesty, wore a Grecian habit; though I was afterwards told that she varied her dress two or three times during the masquerade. Prince Henri of Prussia wore a white domino. Several persons appeared in the dresses of different nations,– Chinese, Turks, Persians and Armenians. The most humorous and fantastical figure was a Frenchman, who, with wonderful nimbleness and dexterity, represented an overgrown but very beautiful Parrot. He chattered with a great deal of spirit; and his shoulders, covered with green feathers, performed admirably the part of wings. He drew the attention of the Empress; a ring was formed; he was quite happy; fluttered his plumage; made fine speeches in Russ, French and tolerable English; the ladies were exceedingly diverted; everybody laughed except Prince Henri, who stood beside the Empress, and was so grave and so solemn, that he would have performed his part most admirably in the shape of an owl. The Parrot observed him; was determined to have revenge; and having said as many good things as he could to her Majesty, he was hopping away; but just as he was going out of the circle, seeming to recollect himself, he stopped, looked over his shoulder at the formal Prince, and quite in the parrot tone and French accent, he addressed him most emphatically with ‘HENRI! HENRI! HENRI!’ and then, diving into the crowd, disappeared. His Royal Highness was disconcerted; he was forced to smile in his own defence, and the company were not a little amused.
“At midnight, a spacious hall, of a circular form, capable of containing a vast number of people, and illuminated in the most magnificent manner, was suddenly opened. Twelve tables were placed in alcoves around the sides of the room, where the Empress, Prince Henri, and a hundred and fifty of the chief nobility and foreign ministers sat down to supper. The rest of the company went up, by stairs on the outside of the room, into the lofty galleries placed all around on the inside. Such a row of masked visages, many of them with grotesque features and bushy beards, nodding from the side of the wall, appeared very ludicrous to those below. The entertainment was enlivened with a concert of music: and at different intervals persons in various habits entered the hall, and exhibited Cossack, Chinese, Polish, Swedish and Tartar dances. The whole was so gorgeous, and at the same time so fantastic, that I could not help thinking myself present at some of the magnificent festivals described in the old-fashioned romantes:–
‘The marshal’d feast
Served up in hall with sewers and seneschals.’
The rest of the company, on returning to the rooms adjoining, found prepared for them also a sumptuous banquet. The masquerade began at 6 in the evening, and continued till 5 next morning.
“Besides the masquerade, and other festivities, in honor of, and to divert Prince Henri, we had lately a most magnificent show of fire- works. They were exhibited in a wide apace before the Winter Palace; and, in truth, ‘beggared description.’ They displayed, by a variety of emblematical figures, the reduction of Moldavia, Wallachia, Bessarabia, and the various conquests and victories achieved since the commencement of the present War. The various colors, the bright green and the snowy white, exhibited in these fire-works, were truly astonishing. For the space of twenty minutes, a tree, adorned with the loveliest and most verdant foliage, seemed to be waving as with a gentle breeze. It was entirely of fire; and during the whole of this stupendous scene, an arch of fire, by the continued throwing of rockets and fire-balls in one direction, formed as it were a suitable canopy.
“On this occasion a prodigious multitude of people were assembled; and the Empress, it was surmised, seemed uneasy. She was afraid, it was apprehended, lest any accident, like what happened at Paris at the marriage of the Dauphin, should befall her beloved people. I hope I have amused you; and ever am”–[W. Richardson,
Anecdotes of the Russian Empire,
“Petersburg, 4th January, 1771.”]
The masquerades and galas in honor of Prince Henri, from a grandiose Hostess, who had played with him in childhood, were many; but it is not with these that we have to do. One day, the Czarina, talking to him of the Austrian procedures at Zips, said with pique, “It seems, in Poland you have only to stoop, and pick up what you like of it. If the Court of Vienna have the notion to dismember that Kingdom, its neighbors will have right to do as much.” [Rulhiere, iv. 210;
142; above all, Henri himself, in
Friedrich himself appears to have quite forgotten the Count-Lynar idea; and, on Henri’s report from Russia, was totally incredulous; and even suspected that there might be trickery and danger in this Russian proposal. Not till Henri’s return (FEBRUARY 18th, 1771) could he entirely believe that the Czarina was serious;–and then, sure enough, he did, with his whole heart, go into it: the EUREKA out of all these difficulties, which had so long seemed insuperable. Prince Henri “had an Interview with the Austrian Minister next day” (February 19th), who immediately communicated with his Kaunitz,–and got discouraging response from Kaunitz; discouraging, or almost negatory; which did not discourage Friedrich. “A way out,” thinks Friedrich: “the one way to save my Prussia and the world from incalculable conflagration.” And entered on it without loss of a moment. And labored at it with such continual industry, rapidity and faculty for guiding and pushing, as all readers have known in him, on dangerous emergencies: at no moment lifting his hand from it till it was complete.
His difficulties were enormous: what a team to drive; and on such a road, untrodden before by hoof or wheel! Two Empresses that cordially hate one another, and that disagree on this very subject. Kaunitz and his Empress are extremely skittish in the matter, and as if quite refuse it at first: “Zips will be better,” thinks Kaunitz to himself; “Cannot we have, all to ourselves, a beautiful little cutting out of Poland in that part; and then perhaps, in league with the Turk, who has money, beat the Russians home altogether, and rule Poland in their stead, or ‘share it with the Sultan,’ as Reis-Effendi suggests?” And the dismal truth is, though it was not known for years afterward, Kaunitz does about this time, in profoundest secret, actually make Treaty of Alliance with the Turk (“so many million Piastres to us, ready money, year by year, and you shall, if not by our mediating, then by our fighting, be a contented Turk”); and all along at the different Russian-Turk “Peace-Congresses,” Kaunitz, while pretending to sit and mediate along with Prussia, sat on that far other basis, privately thwarting everything; and span out the Turk pacification in a wretched manner for years coming. [“Peace of Kainardschi,” not till “21st July, 1774,”–after four or five abortive attempts, two of them “Congresses,” Kaunitz so industrious (Hermann, v. 664 et antea).] A dangerous, hard-mouthed, high-stalking, ill-given old coach-horse of a Kaunitz: fancy what the driving of him might be, on a road he did not like! But he had a driver too, who, in delicate adroitness, in patience and in sharpness of whip, was consummate: “You shall know it is your one road, my ill-given friend!” (I ostentatiously increase my Cavalry by 8,000; meaning, “A new Seven-Years War, if you force me, and Russia by my side this time!”) So that Kaunitz had to quit his Turk courses (never paid the Piastres back), and go into what really was the one way out.
But Friedrich’s difficulties on this course are not the thing that can interest readers; and all readers know his faculty for overcoming difficulties. Readers ask rather: “And had Friedrich no feeling about Poland itself, then, and this atrocious Partitioning of the poor Country?” Apparently none whatever;–unless it might be, that Deliverance from Anarchy, Pestilence, Famine, and Pigs eating your dead bodies, would be a manifest advantage for Poland, while it was the one way of saving Europe from War. Nobody seems more contented in conscience, or radiant with heartfelt satisfaction, and certainty of thanks from all wise and impartial men, than the King of Prussia, now and afterwards, in regard to this Polish atrocity! A psychological fact, which readers can notice. Scrupulous regard to Polish considerations, magnanimity to Poland, or the least respect or pity for her as a dying Anarchy, is what nobody will claim for him; consummate talent in executing the Partition of Poland (inevitable some day, as he may have thought, but is nowhere at the pains to say),–great talent, great patience too, and meritorious self-denial and endurance, in executing that Partition, and in saving IT from catching fire instead of being the means to quench fire, no well-informed person will deny him. Of his difficulties in the operation (which truly are unspeakable) I will say nothing more; readers are prepared to believe that he, beyond others, should conquer difficulties when the object is vital to him. I will mark only the successive dates of his progress, and have done with this wearisome subject:–
June 14th, 1771. Within four months of the arrival of Prince Henri and that first certainty from Russia, diligent Friedrich, upon whom the whole burden had been laid of drawing up a Plan, and bringing Austria to consent, is able to report to Petersburg, That Austria has dubieties, reluctances, which it is to be foreseen she will gradually get over; and that here meanwhile (June 14th, 1771) is my Plan of Partition,–the simplest conceivable: “That each choose (subject to future adjustments) what will best suit him; I, for my own part, will say, West-Preussen;–what Province will Czarish Majesty please to say?” Czarish Majesty, in answer, is exorbitantly liberal to herself; claims, not a Province, but four or five; will have Friedrich, if the Austrians attack her in consequence, to assist by declaring War on Austria; Czarish Majesty, in the reciprocal case, not to assist Friedrich at all, till her Turk War is done! “Impossible,” thinks Friedrich; “surprisingly so, high Madam! But, to the delicate bridle-hand, you are a manageable entity.”
It was with Kaunitz that Friedrich’s real difficulties lay. Privately, in the course of this Summer, Kaunitz, by way of preparation for “mediating a Turk-Russian Peace,” had concluded his “subsidy Treaty” with the Turk, [“6th July, 1771” (Preuss, iv. 31; Hermann; &c. &c.).]–Treaty never ratified, but the Piastres duly paid;–Treaty rendering Peace impossible, so long as Kaunitz had to do with mediating it. And indeed Kaunitz’s tricks in that function of mediator, and also after it, were of the kind which Friedrich has some reason to call “infamous.” “Your Majesty, as co-mediator, will join us, should the Russians make War?” said Kaunitz’s Ambassador, one day, to Friedrich. “For certain, no!” answered Friedrich; and, on the contrary, remounted his Cavalry, to signify, “I will fight the other way, if needed!” which did at once bring Kaunitz to give up his mysterious Turk projects, and come into the Polish. After which, his exorbitant greed of territory there; his attempts to get Russia into a partitioning of Turkey as well,– (“A slice of Turkey too, your Czarish Majesty and we?” hints he more than once),–gave Friedrich no end of trouble; and are singular to look at by the light there now is. Not for about a twelvemonth did Friedrich get his hard-mouthed Kaunitz brought into step at all; and to the last, perpetual vigilance and, by whip and bit, the adroitest charioteering was needed on him.
FEBRUARY 17th, 1772, Russia and Prussia, for their own part,– Friedrich, in the circumstances, submitting to many things from his Czarina,–get their particular “Convention” (Bargain in regard to Poland) completed in all parts, “will take possession 4th June instant:” sign said Convention (February 17th);–and invite Austria to join, and state her claims. Which, in three weeks after, MARCH 4th, Austria does;–exorbitant abundantly; and NOT to be got very much reduced, though we try, for a series of months. Till at last:–
AUGUST 5th, 1772, Final Agreement between the Three Partitioning Powers: “These are our respective shares; we take possession on the 1st OF SEPTEMBER instant:”–and actual possession for Friedrich’s share did, on the 13th of that month, ensue. A right glad Friedrich, as everybody, friend or enemy, may imagine him! Glad to have done with such a business,–had there been no other profit in it; which was far from being the case. One’s clear belief, on studying these Books, is of two things: FIRST, that, as everybody admits, Friedrich had no real hand in starting the notion of Partitioning Poland;–but that he grasped at it with eagerness, as the one way of saving Europe from War: SECOND, what has been much less noticed, that, under any other hand, it would have led Europe to War;–and that to Friedrich is due the fact, that it got effected without such accompaniment. Friedrich’s share of Territory is counted to be in all 9,465 English square miles; Austria’s, 62,500; Russia’s, 87,500, [Preuss, iv. 45.] between nine and ten times the amount of Friedrich’s,–which latter, however, as an anciently Teutonic Country, and as filling up the always dangerous gap between his Ost-Preussen and him, has, under Prussian administration, proved much the most valuable of the Three; and, next to Silesia, is Friedrich’s most important acquisition. SEPTEMBER 13th, 1772, it was at last entered upon,–through such waste-weltering confusions, and on terms never yet unquestionable.
Consent of Polish Diet was not had for a year more; but that is worth little record. Diet, for that object, got together 19th APRIL, 1773; recalcitrant enough, had not Russia understood the methods: “a common fund was raised [ON SE COTISA, says Friedrich] for bribing;” the Three Powers had each a representative General in Warsaw (Lentulus the Prussian personage), all three with forces to rear: Diet came down by degrees, and, in the course of five months (SEPTEMBER 18th, 1773), acquiesced in everything.
And so the matter is ended; and various men will long have various opinions upon it. I add only this one small Document from Maria Theresa’s hand, which all hearts, and I suppose even Friedrich’s had he ever read it, will pronounce to be very beautiful; homely, faithful, wholesome, well-becoming in a high and true Sovereign Woman.
THE EMPRESS-QUEEN TO PRINCE KAUNITZ (Undated: date must be Vienna, February, 1772).
“When all my lands were invaded, and I knew not where in the world I should find a place to be brought to bed in, I relied on my good right and the help of God. But in this thing, where not only public law cries to Heaven against us, but also all natural justice and sound reason, I must confess never in my life to have been in such trouble, and am ashamed to show my face. Let the Prince [Kaunitz] consider what an example we are giving to all the world, if, for a miserable piece of Poland, or of Moldavia or Wallachia, we throw our honor and reputation to the winds. I see well that I am alone, and no more in vigor; therefore I must, though to my very great sorrow, let things take their course.” [
lander angefochten wurden und gar nit mehr wusste wo ruhig niederkommen sollte, steiffete ich mich auf mein gutes Recht und den Beystand Gottes. Aber in dieser Sach, wo nit allein das offenbare Recht himmelschreyent wider Uns, sondern auch alle Billigkeit und die gesunde Vernunft wider Uns ist, muess bekhennen dass zeitlebens nit so beangstigt mich befunten und mich sehen zu lassen schame. Bedenkh der Furst, was wir aller Welt fur ein Exempel geben, wenn wir um ein ellendes stuk von Pohlen oder von der Moldau und Wallachey unser ehr und REPUTATION in die schanz schlagen. Ich merkh wohl dass ich allein bin und nit mehr EN VIGEUR, darum lasse ich die sachen, jedoch nit ohne meinen grossten Gram, ihren Weg gehen.”
Taschenbuch,
And, some days afterwards, here is her Majesty’s Official Assent: “PLACET, since so many great and learned men will have it so: but long after I am dead, it will be known what this violating of all that was hitherto held sacred and just will give rise to.” [From
Periodical], lxxi. 29:” cited in PREUSS, iv. 39.] (Hear her Majesty!)
Friedrich has none of these compunctious visitings; but his account too, when he does happen to speak on the subject, is worth hearing, and credible every word. Writing to Voltaire, a good while after (POTSDAM, 9th OCTOBER, 1773)) this, in the swift-flowing, miscellaneous Letter, is one passage: … “To return to your King of Poland. I am aware that Europe pretty generally believes the late Partition made (QU’ON A FAIT) of Poland to be a result of the Political trickeries (MANIGANCES) which are attributed to me; nevertheless, nothing is more untrue. After in vain proposing different arrangements and expedients, there was no alternative left but either that same Partition, or else Europe kindled into a general War. Appearances are deceitful; and the Public judges only by these. What I tell you is as true as the Forty-seventh of Euclid.” [OEuvres de Frederic, xxiii. 257.]
WHAT FRIEDRICH DID WITH HIS NEW ACQUISITION.
Considerable obloquy still rests on Friedrich, in many liberal circles, for the Partition of Poland. Two things, however, seem by this time tolerably clear, though not yet known in liberal circles: first, that the Partition of Poland was an event inevitable in Polish History; an operation of Almighty Providence and of the Eternal Laws of Nature, as well as of the poor earthly Sovereigns concerned there; and secondly, that Friedrich had nothing special to do with it, and, in the way of originating or causing it, nothing whatever.
It is certain the demands of Eternal Justice must be fulfilled: in earthly instruments, concerned with fulfilling them, there may be all degrees of demerit and also of merit,–from that of a world- ruffian Attila the Scourge of God, conscious of his own ferocities and cupidities alone, to that of a heroic Cromwell, sacredly aware that he is, at his soul’s peril, doing God’s Judgments on the enemies of God, in Tredah and other severe scenes. If the Laws and Judgments are verily those of God, there can be no clearer merit than that of pushing them forward, regardless of the barkings of Gazetteers and wayside dogs, and getting them, at the earliest term possible, made valid among recalcitrant mortals! Friedrich, in regard to Poland, I cannot find to have had anything considerable either of merit or of demerit, in the moral point of view; but simply to have accepted, and put in his pocket without criticism, what Providence sent. He himself evidently views it in that light; and is at no pains to conceal his great sense of the value of West- Preussen to him. We praised his Narrative as eminently true, and the only one completely intelligible in every point: in his Preface to it, written some years later, he is still more candid. Speaking there in the first person, this once and never before or after,–he says:–
“These new pretensions [of the Czarina, to assuage the religious putrid-fever of the Poles by word of command] raised all Poland [into Confederation of Bar, and WAR OF THE CONFEDERATES, sung by Friedrich]; the Grandees of the Kingdom implored the assistance of the Turks: straightway War flamed out; in which the Russian Armies had only to show themselves to beat the Turks in every rencounter.” His Majesty continues: “This War changed the whole Political System of Europe [general Diplomatic Dance of Europe, suddenly brought to a whirl by such changes of the music]; a new arena (CARRIERE) came to open itself,–and one must have been either without address, or else buried in stupid somnolence (ENGOURDISSEMENT), not to profit by an opportunity so advantageous. I had read Bojardo’s fine Allegory: [Signifies only, “seize opportunity;” but here is the passage itself:–
“Quante volte le disse: ‘O bella dama, Conosci l’ora de la tua ventura,
Dapoi che un tal Baron piu the che se t’ama, Che non ha il Ciel piu vaga creatura.
Forse anco avrai di questo tempo brama, Che’l felice destin sempre non dura;
Prendi diletto, mentre sei su ‘l verde, Che l’avuto piacer mai non si perde.
Questa eta giovenil, ch’ e si gioiosa, Tutta in diletto consumar si deve,
Perche quasi in un punto ci e nas cosa: Como dissolve ‘l sol la bianca neve,
Como in un giorno la vermiglia rosa Perde il vago color in tempo breve,
Cosi fugge l’ eta com’ un baleno,
E non si puo tener, che non ha freno.'”
(Bojardo,
cant. 2.)] I seized by the forelock this unexpected opportunity; and, by dint of negotiating and intriguing [candid King] I succeeded in indemnifying our Monarchy for its past losses, by incorporating Polish Prussia with my Old Provinces.” [
DEPUIS 1763 JUSQU’A 1774), vi. 6, 7: “MEMOIRES [Chapter FIRST, including all the Polish part] were finished in 1775; Preface is of 1779.”]
Here is a Historian King who uses no rouge-pot in his Narratives,– whose word, which is all we shall say of it at present, you find to be perfectly trustworthy, and a representation of the fact as it stood before himself! What follows needs no vouching for: “This acquisition was one of the most important we could make, because it joined Pommern to East Prussia [ours for ages past], and because, rendering us masters of the Weichsel River, we gained the double advantage of being able to defend that Kingdom [Ost- Preussen], and to draw considerable tolls from the Weichsel, as all the trade of Poland goes by that River.”
Yes truly! Our interests are very visible: and the interests and wishes and claims of Poland,–are they nowhere worthy of one word from you, O King? Nowhere that I have noticed: not any mention of them, or allusion to them; though the world is still so convinced that perhaps they were something, and not nothing! Which is very curious. In the whole course of my reading I have met with no Autobiographer more careless to defend himself upon points in dispute among his Audience, and marked as criminal against him by many of them. Shadow of Apology on such points you search for in vain. In rapid bare summary he sets down the sequel of facts, as if assured beforehand of your favorable judgment, or with the profoundest indifference to how you shall judge them; drops his actions, as an Ostrich does its young, to shift for themselves in the wilderness, and hurries on his way. This style of his, noticeable of old in regard to Silesia too, has considerably hurt him with the common kind of readers; who, in their preconceived suspicions of the man, are all the more disgusted at tracing in him, not the least anxiety to stand well with any reader, more than to stand ill, AS ill as any reader likes!
Third parties, it would seem, have small temptation to become his advocates; he himself being so totally unprovided with thanks for you! But, on another score, and for the sake of a better kind of readers, there is one third party bound to remark: 1. That hardly any Sovereign known to us did, in his general practice, if you will examine it, more perfectly respect the boundaries of his neighbors; and go on the road that was his own, anxious to tread on no man’s toes if he could avoid it: a Sovereign who, at all times, strictly and beneficently confined himself to what belonged to his real business and him. 2. That apparently, therefore, he must have considered Poland to be an exceptional case, unique in his experience: case of a moribund Anarchy, fallen down as carrion on the common highways of the world; belonging to nobody in particular; liable to be cut into (nay, for sanitary reasons requiring it, if one were a Rhadamanthus Errant, which one is not!)–liable to be cut into, on a great and critically stringent occasion; no question to be asked of IT; your only question the consent of by-standers, and the moderate certainty that nobody got a glaringly disproportionate share! That must have been, on the part of an equitable Friedrich, or even of a Friedrich accurate in Book-keeping by Double Entry, the notion silently formed about Poland.
Whether his notion was scientifically right, and conformable to actual fact, is a question I have no thought of entering on; still less, whether Friedrich was morally right, or whether there was not a higher rectitude, granting even the fact, in putting it in practice. These are questions on which an Editor may have his opinion, partly complete for a long time past, partly not complete, or, in human language, completable or pronounceable at all; and may carefully forbear to obtrude it on his readers; and only advise them to look with their own best eyesight, to be deaf to the multiplex noises which are evidently blind, and to think what they find thinkablest on such a subject. For, were it never so just, proper and needful, this is by nature a case of LYNCH LAW; upon which, in the way of approval or apology, no spoken word is permissible. Lynch being so dangerous a Lawgiver, even when an indispensable one!–
For, granting that the Nation of Poland was for centuries past an Anarchy doomed by the Eternal Laws of Heaven to die, and then of course to get gradually buried, or eaten by neighbors, were it only for sanitary reasons,–it will by no means suit, to declare openly on behalf of terrestrial neighbors who have taken up such an idea (granting it were even a just one, and a true reading of the silent but inexorably certain purposes of Heaven), That they, those volunteer terrestrial neighbors, are justified in breaking in upon the poor dying or dead carcass, and flaying and burying it, with amicable sharing of skin and shoes! If it even were certain that the wretched Polish Nation, for the last forty years hastening with especial speed towards death, did in present circumstances, with such a howling canaille of Turk Janissaries and vultures of creation busy round it, actually require prompt surgery, in the usual method, by neighbors,–the neighbors shall and must do that function at their own risk. If Heaven did appoint them to it, Heaven, for certain, will at last justify them; and in the mean while, for a generation or two, the same Heaven (I can believe) has appointed that Earth shall pretty unanimously condemn them. The shrieks, the foam-lipped curses of mistaken mankind, in such case, are mankind’s one security against over-promptitude (which is so dreadfully possible) on the part of surgical neighbors.
Alas, yes, my articulate-speaking friends; here, as so often elsewhere, the solution of the riddle is not Logic, but Silence. When a dark human Individual has filled the measure of his wicked blockheadisms, sins and brutal nuisancings, there are Gibbets provided, there are Laws provided; and you can, in an articulate regular manner, hang him and finish him, to general satisfaction. Nations too, you may depend on it as certain, do require the same process, and do infallibly get it withal; Heaven’s Justice, with written Laws or without, being the most indispensable and the inevitablest thing I know of in this Universe. No doing without it; and it is sure to come:–and the Judges and Executioners, we observe, are NOT, in that latter case, escorted in and out by the Sheriffs of Counties and general ringing of bells; not so, in that latter case, but far otherwise!–
And now, leaving that vexed question, we will throw one glance– only one is permitted–into the far more profitable question, which probably will one day be the sole one on this matter, What became of poor West-Preussen under Friedrich? Had it to sit, weeping unconsolably, or not? Herr Dr. Freytag, a man of good repute in Literature, has, in one of his late Books of Popular History, [G. Freytag,
ACQUISITION OF POLISH PRUSSIA. “During several Centuries, the much- divided Germans had habitually been pressed upon, and straitened and injured, by greedy conquering neighbors; Friedrich was the first Conqueror who once more pushed forward the German Frontier towards the East; reminding the Germans again, that it was their task to carry Law, Culture, Liberty and Industry into the East of Europe. All Friedrich’s Lands, with the exception only of some Old- Saxon territory, had, by force and colonization, been painfully gained from the Sclave. At no time since the migrations of the Middle Ages, had this struggle for possession of the wide Plains to the east of Oder ceased. When arms were at rest, politicians carried on the struggle.”
PERSECUTION OF GERMAN PROTESTANTS IN POLAND. “In the very ‘Century of Enlightenment’ the persecution of the Germans became fanatical in those Countries: one Protestant Church after the other got confiscated; pulled down; if built of wood, set on fire: its Church once burnt, the Village had lost the privilege of having one. Ministers and schoolmasters were driven away, cruelly maltreated. ‘VEXA LUTHERANURN, DABIT THALERUM (Wring the Lutheran, you will find money in him),’ became the current Proverb of the Poles in regard to Germans. A Protestant Starost of Gnesen, a Herr von UNRUH of the House of Birnbaum, one of the largest proprietors of the country, was condemned to die, and first to have his tongue pulled out and his hands cut off,–for the crime of having copied into his Note-book some strong passages against the Jesuits, extracted from German Books. Patriotic ‘Confederates of Bar,’ joined by all the plunderous vagabonds around, went roaming and ravaging through the country, falling upon small towns and German villages. The Polish Nobleman, Roskowski [a celebrated “symbolical” Nobleman, this], put on one red boot and one black, symbolizing FIRE and DEATH; and in this guise rode about, murdering and burning, from places to place; finally, at Jastrow, he cut off the hands, feet, and lastly the head of the Protestant Pastor, Willich by name, and threw the limbs into a swamp. This happened in 1768.”
IN WHAT STATE FRIEDRICH FOUND THE POLISH PROVINCES. “Some few only of the larger German Towns, which were secured by walls, and some protected Districts inhabited exclusively by Germans,–as the NIEDERUNG near Dantzig, the Villages under the mild rule of the Cistercians of Oliva, and the opulent German towns of the Catholic Ermeland,–were in tolerable circumstances. The other Towns lay in ruins; so also most of the Hamlets (HOFE) of the open Country. Bromberg, the city of German Colonists, the Prussians found in heaps and ruins: to this hour it has not been possible to ascertain clearly how the Town came into this condition. [
Preussische Provinzialblotter,
p. 259.”] No historian, no document, tells of the destruction and slaughter that had been going on, in the whole District of the NETZE there, during the last ten years before the arrival of the Prussians, The Town of Culm had preserved its strong old walls and stately churches; but in the streets, the necks of the cellars stood out above the rotten timber and brick heaps of the tumbled houses: whole streets consisted merely of such cellars, in which wretched people were still trying to live. Of the forty houses in the large Market-place of Culm, twenty-eight had no doors, no roofs, no windows, and no owners. Other Towns were in similar condition,”
“The Country people hardly knew such a thing as bread; many had never in their life tasted such a delicacy; few Villages possessed an oven. A weaving-loom was rare, the spinning-wheel unknown. The main article of furniture, in this bare scene of squalor, was the Crucifix and vessel of Holy-Water under it [and “POLACK! CATHOLIK!” if a drop of gin be added].–The Peasant-Noble [unvoting, inferior kind] was hardly different from the common Peasant: he himself guided his Hook Plough (HACKEN-PFLUG), and clattered with his wooden slippers upon the plankless floor of his hut. … It was a desolate land, without discipline, without law, without a master. On 9,000 English square miles lived 500,000 souls: not 55 to the square mile.”
SETS TO WORK. “The very rottenness of the Country became an attraction for Friedrich; and henceforth West-Preussen was, what hitherto Silesia had been, his favorite child; which, with infinite care, like that of an anxious loving mother, he washed, brushed, new-dressed, and forced to go to school and into orderly habits, and kept ever in his eye. The diplomatic squabbles about this ‘acquisition’ were still going on, when he had already sent [so early as June 4th, 1772, and still more on September 13th of that Year [See his new DIALOGUE with Roden, our Wesel acquaintance, who was a principal Captain in this business (in PREUSS, iv. 57, 58: date of the Dialogue is “11th May, 1772;”–Roden was on the ground 4th June next; but, owing to Austrian delays, did not begin till September 13th).]] a body of his best Official People into this waste-howling scene, to set about organizing it. The Landschaften (COUNTIES) were divided into small Circles; in a minimum of time, the land was valued, and an equal tax put upon it; every Circle received its LANDRATH, Law-Court, Post-office and Sanitary Police. New Parishes, each with its Church and Parson, were called into existence as by miracle; a company of 187 Schoolmasters–partly selected and trained by the excellent Semler [famous over Germany, in Halle University and SEMINARIUM, not yet in England]– were sent into the Country: multitudes of German Mechanics too, from brick- makers up to machine-builders. Everywhere there began a digging, a hammering, a building; Cities were peopled anew; street after street rose out of the heaps of ruins; new Villages of Colonists were laid out, new modes of agriculture ordered. In the first Year after taking possession, the great Canal [of Bromberg] was dug; which, in a length of fifteen miles, connects, by the Netze River, the Weichsel with the Oder and the Elbe: within one year after giving the order, the King saw loaded vessels from the Oder, 120 feet in length of keel,” and of forty tons burden, “enter the Weichsel. The vast breadths of land, gained from the state of swamp by drainage into this Canal, were immediately peopled by German Colonists.
“As his Seven-Years Struggle of War may be called super-human, so was there also in his present Labor of Peace something enormous; which appeared to his contemporaries [unless my fancy mislead me] almost preternatural, at times inhuman. It was grand, but also terrible, that the success of the whole was to him, at all moments, the one thing to be striven after; the comfort of the individual of no concern at all. When, in the Marshland of the Wetze, he counted more the strokes of the 10,000 spades, than the sufferings of the workers, sick with the marsh-fever in the hospitals which he had built for them; [Compare PREUSS, iv. 60-71.] when, restless, his demands outran the quickest performance,–there united itself to the deepest reverence and devotedness, in his People, a feeling of awe, as for one whose limbs are not moved by earthly life [fanciful, considerably!]. And when Goethe, himself become an old man, finished his last Drama [Second Part of FAUST], the figure of the old King again rose on him, and stept into his Poem; and his Faust got transformed into an unresting, creating, pitilessly exacting Master, forcing on his salutiferous drains and fruitful canals through the morasses of the Weichsel.” [G. Freytag,
Neue Bilder aus dem Leben des deutschen Volkes
(Leipzig, 1862), pp. 397-408.]
These statements and pencillings of Freytag, apart from here and there a flourish of poetic sentiment, I believe my readers can accept as essentially true, and a correct portrait of the fact. And therewith, CON LA BOCCA DOLCE, we will rise from this Supper of Horrors. That Friedrich fortified the Country, that he built an impregnable Graudentz, and two other Fortresses, rendering the Country, and himself on that Eastern side, impregnable henceforth, all readers can believe. Friedrich has been building various Fortresses in this interim, though we have taken no notice of them; building and repairing many things;–trimming up his Military quite to the old pitch, as the most particular thing of all. He has his new Silesian Fortress of Silberberg,–big Fortress, looking into certain dangerous Bohemian Doors (in Tobias Stusche’s Country, if readers recollect an old adventure now mythical);–his new Silesian Silberberg, his newer Polish Graudentz, and many others, and flatters himself he is not now pregnable on any side.
A Friedrich working, all along, in Poland especially, amid what circumambient deluges of maledictory outcries, and mendacious shriekeries from an ill-informed Public, is not now worth mentioning. Mere distracted rumors of the Pamphleteer and Newspaper kind: which, after hunting them a long time, through dense and rare, end mostly in zero, and angry darkness of some poor human brain,–or even testify in favor of this Head-Worker, and of the sense he shows, especially of the patience. For example: that of the “Polish Towns and Villages, ordered” by this Tyrant “to deliver, each of them, so many marriageable girls; each girl to bring with her as dowry, furnished by her parents, 1 feather-bed, 4 pillows, 1 cow, 3 swine and 3 ducats,”–in which desirable condition this tyrannous King “sent her into the Brandenburg States to be wedded and promote population.” [Lindsey, LETTERS ON POLAND (Letter 2d). p. 61: Peyssonnel (in some. French Book of his, “solemnly presented to Louis XVI. and the Constituent Assembly;” cited in PREUSS, iv. 85); &c. &c.] Feather-beds, swine and ducats had their value in Brandenburg; but were marriageable girls such a scarcity there? Most extraordinary new RAPE OF THE SABINES; for which Herr Preuss can find no basis or source,–nor can I; except in the brain of Reverend Lindsey and his loud LETTERS ON POLAND above mentioned.
Dantzig too, and the Harbor-dues, what a case! Dantzig Harbor, that is to say, Netze River, belongs mainly to Friedrich, Dantzig City not,–such the Czarina’s lofty whim, in the late Partition Treatyings; not good to contradict, in the then circumstances; still less afterwards, though it brought chicanings more than enough. “And she was not ill-pleased to keep this thorn in the King’s foot for her own conveniences,” thinks the King; though, mainly, he perceives that it is the English acting on her grandiose mind: English, who were apprehensive for their Baltic trade under this new Proprietor, and who egged on an ambitious Czarina to protect Human Liberty, and an inflated Dantzig Burgermeister to stand up for ditto; and made a dismal shriekery in the Newspapers, and got into dreadful ill-humor with said Proprietor of Dantzig Harbor, and have never quite recovered from it to this day. Lindsey’s POLISH LETTERS are very loud again on this occasion, aided by his SEVEN DIALOGUES ON POLAND; concerning which, partly for extinct Lindsey’s sake, let us cite one small passage, and so wind up.
MARCH 2d, 1775, in answer to Voltaire, Friedrich writes: … “The POLISH DIALOGUES you speak of are not known to me. I think of such Satires, with Epictetus: ‘If they tell any truth of thee, correct thyself; if they are lies, laugh at them.’ I have learned, with years, to become a steady coach-horse; I do my stage, like a diligent roadster, and pay no heed to the little dogs that will bark by the way.” And then, three weeks after:–
“I have at length got the SEVEN DIALOGUES ON POLAND; and the whole history of them as well. The Author is an Englishman named Lindsey, Parson by profession, and Tutor to the young Prince Poniatowski, the King of Poland’s Nephew,”–Nephew Joseph, Andreas’s Son, NOT the undistinguished Nephew: so we will believe for poor loud Lindsey’s sake! “It was at the instigation of the Czartoryskis, Uncles of the King, that Lindsey composed this Satire,–in English first of all. Satire ready, they perceived that nobody in Poland would understand it, unless it were translated into French; which accordingly was done. But as their translator was unskilful, they sent the DIALOGUES to a certain Gerard at Dantzig, who at that time was French Consul there, and who is at present a Clerk in your Foreign Office under M. de Vergennes. This Gerard, who does not want for wit, but who does me the honor to hate me cordially, retouched these DIALOGUES, and put them into the condition they were published in. I have laughed a good deal at them: here and there occur coarse things (GROSSIERETES), and platitudes of the insipid kind: but there are traits of good pleasantry. I shall not go fencing with goose-quills against this sycophant. As Mazarin said, ‘Let the French keep singing, provided they let us keep doing.'” [
319-321: “Potsdam, 2d March, 1775,” and “25th March” following. See PREUSS, iii. 275, iv. 85.]
Chapter V.
A CHAPTER OF MISCELLANIES.
After Neustadt, Kaiser Joseph and the King had no more Interviews. Kaunitz’s procedures in the subsequent Pacification and Partition business had completely estranged the two Sovereigns: to friendly visiting, a very different state of mutual feeling had succeeded; which went on, such “the immeasurable ambition” visible in some of us, deepening and worsening itself, instead of improving or abating. Friedrich had Joseph’s Portrait hung in conspicuous position in the rooms where he lived; somebody noticing the fact, Friedrich answered: “Ah, yes, I am obliged to keep that young Gentleman in my eye.” And, in effect, the rest of Friedrich’s Political Activity, from this time onwards, may be defined as an ever-vigilant defence of himself, and of the German Reich, against Austrian Encroachment: which, to him, in the years then running, was the grand impending peril; and which to us in the new times has become so inexpressibly uninteresting, and will bear no narrative, Austrian Encroachment did not prove to be the death-peril that had overhung the world in Friedrich’s last years!–
These, accordingly, are years in which the Historical interest goes on diminishing; and only the Biographical, were anything of Biography attainable, is left. Friedrich’s industrial, economic and other Royal activities are as beautiful as ever; but cannot to our readers, in our limits, be described with advantage. Events of world-interest, after the Partition of Poland, do not fall out, or Friedrich is not concerned in them. It is a dim element; its significance chiefly German or Prussian, not European. What of humanly interesting is discoverable in it,–at least, while the Austrian Grudge continues in a chronic state, and has no acute fit,–I will here present in the shape of detached Fragments, suitably arranged and rendered legible, in hopes these may still have some lucency for readers, and render more conceivable the surrounding masses that have to be left dark. Our first Piece is of Winter, or late Autumn, 1771,–while the solution of the Polish Business is still in its inchoative stages; perfectly complete in the Artist’s own mind; Russia too adhering; but Kaunitz so refractory and contradictory.
HERR DOCTOR ZIMMERMANN, THE FAMOUS AUTHOR OF THE BOOK “ON SOLITUDE,” WALKS REVERENTIALLY BEFORE FRIEDRICH’S DOOR IN THE DUSK OF AN OCTOBER EVENING: AND HAS A ROYAL INTERVIEW NEXT DAY.
Friday Evening, 25th October, 1771, is the date of Zimmermann’s walk of contemplation,–among the pale Statues and deciduous Gardenings of Sans-Souci Cottage (better than any Rialto, at its best),–the eternal stars coming out overhead, and the transitory candle-light of a King Friedrich close by.
“At Sans-Souci,” says he, in his famed Book, “where that old God of War (KRIEGSGOTT) forges his thunder-bolts, and writes Works of Intellect for Posterity; where he governs his People as the best father would his house; where, during one half of the day, he accepts and reads the petitions and complaints of the meanest citizen or peasant; comes to help of his Countries on all sides with astonishing sums of money, expecting no payment, nor seeking anything but the Common Weal; and where, during the other half, he is a Poet and Philosopher:–at Sans-Souci, I say, there reigns all round a silence, in which you can hear the faintest breath of every soft wind. I mounted this Hill for the first time in Winter [late Autumn, 25th October, 1771, edge of Winter], in the dusk. When I beheld the small Dwelling-House of this Convulser of the World close by me, and was near his very chamber, I saw indeed a light inside, but no sentry or watchman at the Hero’s door; no soul to ask me, Who I was, or What I wanted. I saw nothing; and walked about as I pleased before this small and silent House.” [Preuss, i. 387 (“from EINSAMKEIT,” Zimmermann’s SOLITUDE, “i. 110; Edition of Leipzig, 1784”).]
Yes, Doctor, this is your Kriegsgott; throned in a free-and-easy fashion. In regard to that of Sentries, I believe there do come up from Potsdam nightly a corporal and six rank-and-file; but perhaps it is at a later hour; perhaps they sit within doors, silent, not to make noises. Another gentleman, of sauntering nocturnal habits, testifies to having, one night, seen the King actually asleep in bed, the doors being left ajar. [Ib. i. 388.]–As Zimmermann had a DIALOGUE next day with his Majesty, which we propose to give; still more, as he made such noise in the world by other Dialogues with Friedrich, and by a strange Book about them, which are still ahead,–readers may desire to know a little who or what the Zimmermann is, and be willing for a rough brief Note upon him, which certainly is not readier than it is rough:–
Johann Georg Zimmermann: born 1728, at Brugg in the Canton of Bern, where his Father seems to have had some little property and no employment, “a RATHSHERR (Town-Councillor), who was much respected.” Of brothers or sisters, no mention. The Mother being from the French part of the Canton, he learned to speak both languages. Went to Bern for his Latin and high-schooling; then to Gottingen, where he studied Medicine, under the once great Haller and other now dimmed celebrities. Haller, himself from Bern, had taken Zimmermann to board, and became much attached to him: Haller, in 1752, came on a summer visit to native Bern: Zimmermann, who had in the mean time been “for a few months” in France, in Italy and England, now returned and joined him there; but the great man, feeling very poorly and very old, decided that he would like to stay in Bern, and not move any more;–Zimmermann, accordingly, was sent to Gottingen to bring Mrs. Haller, with her Daughters, bandboxes and effects, home to Bern. Which he did;–and not only them, but a soft, ingenious, ingenuous and rather pretty young Gottingen Lady along with them, as his own Wife withal. With her he settled as STADTPHYSICUS (Town-Doctor) in native Brugg; where his beloved Hallers were within reach; and practice in abundance, and honors, all that the place yielded, were in readiness for him.
Here he continued some sixteen years; very busy, very successful in medicine and literature; but “tormented with hypochondria;”–having indeed an immense conceit of himself, and generally too thin a skin for this world. Here he first wrote his Book on SOLITUDE, a Book famed over all the world in my young days (and perhaps still famed); he wrote it a second time, MUCH ENLARGED, about thirty years after: [
(Zurich, 1756),–as yet only “1 vol. 8vo, price 6d.” (5 groschen); but it grew with years; and (Leipzig, 1784) came out remodelled into 4 vols.;–was translated into French, “with many omissions,” by Mercier (Paris, 1790); into English from Mercier (London, 1791). “Zurich, 1763-1764:” by and by, one “Dobson did it into English.”] I read it (in the curtailed English-Mercier form, no Scene in it like the above), in early boyhood,–and thank it for nothing, or nearly so. Zimmermann lived much alone, at Brugg and elsewhere; all his days “Hypochondria” was the main company he had:–and it was natural, but UNprofitable, that he should say, to himself and others, the best he could for that bad arrangement: poor soul! He wrote also on MEDICAL EXPERIENCE, a famed Book in its day;” also on NATIONAL PRIDE; and became famed through the Universe, and was Member of infinite Learned Societies.
All which rendered dull dead Brugg still duller and more dead; unfit utterly for a man of such sublime accomplishments. Plenty of Counts Stadion, Kings of Poland even, offered him engagements; eager to possess such a man, and deliver him from dull dead Brugg; but he had hypochondria, and always feared their deliverance might be into something duller. At length,–in his fortieth year, 1768, –the place of Court-Physician (HOFMEDICUS) at Hanover was offered him by George the Third of pious memory, and this he resolved to accept; and did lift anchor, and accept and occupy accordingly.
Alas, at the Gate of Hanover, “his carriage overset;” broke his poor old Mother-in-law’s leg (who had been rejoicing doubtless to get home into her own Country), and was the end of her–poor old soul;–and the beginning of misfortunes continual and too tedious to mention. Spleen, envy, malice and calumny, from the Hanover Medical world; treatment, “by the old buckram Hofdames who had drunk coffee with George II.,” “which was fitter for a laquais-de- place” than for a medical gentleman of eminence: unworthy treatment, in fact, in many or most quarters;–followed by hypochondria, by dreadful bodily disorder (kind not given or discoverable), “so that I suffered the pains of Hell,” sat weeping, sat gnashing my teeth, and could n’t write a Note after dinner; followed finally by the sickness, and then by the death, of my poor Wife, “after five months of torment.” Upon which, in 1771, Zimmermann’s friends–for he had many friends, being, in fact, a person of fine graceful intellect, high proud feelings and tender sensibilities, gone all to this sad state–rallied themselves; set his Hanover house in order for him (governess for his children, what not); and sent him off to Berlin, there to be dealt with by one Meckel, an incomparable Surgeon, and be healed of his dreadful disorder (“LEIBESSCHADE, of which the first traces had appeared in Brugg”),–though to most people it seemed rather he would die; “and one Medical Eminency in Hanover said to myself [Zimmermann] one day: ‘Dr. So-and-so is to have your Pension, I am told; now, by all right, it should belong to me, don’t you think so?'” What, “I” thought of the matter, seeing the greedy gentleman thus “parting my skin,” may be conjectured!–
The famed Meckel received his famed patient with a nobleness worthy of the heroic ages. Dodged him in his own house, in softest beds and appliances; spoke comfort to him, hope to him,–the gallant Meckel;–rallied, in fact, the due medical staff one morning; came up to Zimmermann, who “stripped,” with the heart of a lamb and lion conjoined, and trusting in God, “flung himself on his bed” (on his face, or on his back, we never know), and there, by the hands of Meckel and staff, “received above 2,000 (TWO THOUSAND) cuts in the space of an hour and half, without uttering one word or sound.” A frightful operation, gallantly endured, and skilfully done; whereby the “bodily disorder” (LEIBESSCHADE), whatever it might be, was effectually and forever sent about its business by the noble Meckel.
Hospitalities and soft, hushed kindnesses and soothing ministrations, by Meckel and by everybody, were now doubled and trebled: wise kind Madam Meckel, young kind Mamsell Meckel and the Son (who “now, in 1788, lectures in Gottingen”); not these only, nor Schmucker Head Army-Surgeon, and the ever-memorable HERR GENERALCHIRURGUS Madan, who had both been in the operation; not these only, but by degrees all that was distinguished in the Berlin world, Ramler, Busching, Sulzer, Prime Minister Herzberg, Queen’s and King’s Equerries, and honorable men and women,–bore him “on angel-wings” towards complete recovery. Talked to him, sang and danced to him (at least, the “Muses” and the female Meckels danced and sang), and all lapped him against eating cares, till, after twelve weeks, he was fairly on his feet again, and able to make jaunts in the neighborhood with his “life’s savior,” and enjoy the pleasant Autumn weather to his farther profit.–All this, though described in ridiculous superlative by Zimmermann, is really touching, beautiful and human: perhaps never in his life was he so happy, or a thousandth part so helped by man, as while under the roof of this thrice-useful Meckel,–more power to Meckel!
Head Army-Surgeon Schmucker had gone through all the Seven-Years War; Zimmermann, an ardent Hero-worshipper, was never weary questioning him, listening to him in full career of narrative, on this great subject,–only eight years old at that time. Among their country drives, Meckel took him to Potsdam, twenty English miles off; in the end of October, there to stay a night. This was the ever-memorable Friday, when we first ascended the Hill of Sans- Souci, and had our evening walk of contemplation:–to be followed by a morrow which was ten times more memorable: as readers shall now see. [Jordens,
v. 632-658 (exact and even eloquent account, as these of Jordens, unexpectedly, often are); Zimmermann himself, UNTERREDUNGEN MIT FRIEDRICH DEM GROSSEN (ubi infra); Tissot,
Zimmermann
NEXT DAY, ZIMMERMANN HAS A DIALOGUE. Schmucker had his apartments in “LITTLE SANS-SOUCI,” where the King now lived (Big Sans-Souci, or “Sans-Souci” by itself, means in those days, not in ours at all, “New Palace, NEUE PALAIS,” now in all its splendor of fresh finish). De Catt, Friedrich’s Reader, whom we know well, was a Genevese, and knew Zimmermann from of old. Schmucker and De Catt were privately twitching up Friedrich’s curiosity,–to whom also Zimmermann’s name, and perhaps his late surgical operation, might be known: “Can he speak French?”–“Native to him, your Majesty.” Friedrich had some notion to see Zimmermann; and judicious De Catt, on this fortunate Saturday, “26th October, 1771,” morrow after Zimmermann’s arrival at Potsdam, “came to our inn about, 1 P.M. [King’s dinner just done]; and asked me to come and look at the beauties of Sans-Souci [Big Sans-Souci] for a little.” Zimmermann willingly went: Catt, left him in good hands to see the beauties; slipt off, for his own part, to “LITTLE Sans-Souci;” came back, took Zimmermann thither; left, him with Schmucker, all trembling, thinking perhaps the King might call him. “I trembled sometimes, then again I felt exceeding happiness:” I was in Schmucker’s room, sitting by the fire, mostly alone for a good while, “the room that had once been Marquis d’Argens’s” (who is now dead, and buried far away, good old soul);–when, at last, about half-past 4, Catt came jumping in, breathless with joy; snatched me up: “His Majesty wants to speak with you this very moment!” Zimmermann’s self shall say the rest.
“I hurried, hand-in-hand with Catt, along a row of Chambers. ‘Here,’ said Catt, ‘we are now at the King’s room!’–My heart thumped, like to spring out of my body. Catt went in; but next moment the door again opened, and Catt bade me enter.
“In the middle of the room stood an iron camp-bed without curtains. There, on a worn mattress, lay King Friedrich, the terror of Europe, without coverlet, in an old blue roquelaure. He had a big cocked-hat, with a white feather [hat aged, worn soft as duffel, equal to most caps; “feather” is not perpendicular, but horizontal, round the inside of the brim], on his head.
“The King took off his hat very graciously, when I was perhaps ten steps from him; and said in French (our whole Dialogue proceeded in French): ‘Come nearer, M. Zimmermann.’
“I advanced to within two steps of the King; he said in the mean while to Catt: ‘Call Schmucker in, too.’ Herr Schmucker came; placed himself behind the King, his back to the wall; and Catt stood behind me. Now the Colloquy began.
KING. “‘I hear you have found your health again in Berlin; I wish you joy of that.’
EGO. “‘I have found my life again in Berlin; but at this moment, Sire, I find here a still greater happiness!’ [ACH!]
KING. “‘You have stood a cruel operation: you must have suffered horribly?’
EGO. “‘Sire, it was well worth while.’
KING. “‘Did, you let them bind you before the operation?’
EGO. “‘No: I resolved to keep my freedom.’
KING (laughing in a very kind manner). “‘Oh, you behaved like a brave Switzer! But are you quite recovered, though?’
EGO. “‘Sire, I have seen all the wonders of your creation in Sans- Souci, and feel well in looking at them.’
KING. “‘I am glad of that. But you must have a care, and especially not get on horseback.’
EGO. “‘It will be pleasant and easy for me to follow the counsels of your Majesty.’
KING. “‘From what Town in the Canton of Bern are you originally?’
EGO. “‘From Brugg.’
KING. “‘I don’t know that Town.’ [No wonder, thought I!]
KING. “‘Where did you study?’
EGO. “‘At Gottingen: Haller was my teacher.’
KING. “‘What is M. Haller doing now?’
EGO. “‘He is concluding his literary career with a romance.’ [USONG had just come out;–no mortal now reads a word of it; and the great Haller is dreadfully forgotten already!]
KING. “‘Ah, that is pretty!–On what system do you treat your patients?’
EGO. “‘Not on any system.’
KING. “‘But there are some Physicians whose methods you prefer to those of others?’
EGO. “‘I especially like Tissot’s methods, who is a familiar friend of mine.’
KING. “‘I know M. Tissot. I have read his writings, and value them very much. On the whole, I love the Art of Medicine. My Father wished me to get some knowledge in it. He often sent me into the Hospitals; and even into those for venereal patients, with a view of warning by example.’
EGO. “‘And by terrible example!–Sire, Medicine is a very difficult Art. But your Majesty is used to bring all Arts under subjection to the force of your genius, and to conquer all that is difficult.’
KING. “‘Alas, no: I cannot conquer all that is difficult!’ [Hard-mouthed Kaunitz, for example; stock-still, with his right ear turned on Turkey: how get Kaunitz into step!]–Here the King became reflective; was silent for a little moment, and then asked me, with a most bright smile: ‘How many churchyards have you filled?’ [A common question of his to Members of the Faculty.]
EGO. “‘Perhaps, in my youth, I have done a little that way! But now it goes better; for I am timid rather than bold.’
KING. “‘Very good, very good.’
“Our Dialogue now became extremely brisk. The King quickened into extraordinary vivacity; and examined me now in the character of Doctor, with such a stringency as, in the year 1751, at Gottingen, when I stood for my Degree, the learned Professors Haller, Richter, Segner and Brendel (for which Heaven recompense them!) never dreamed of! All inflammatory fevers, and the most important of the slow diseases, the King mustered with me, in their order. He asked me, How and whereby I recognized each of these diseases; how and whereby distinguished them from the approximate maladies; what my procedure was in simple and in complicated cases; and how I cured all those disorders? On the varieties, the accidents, the mode of treatment, of small-pox especially, the King inquired with peculiar strictness;–and spoke, with much emotion, of that young Prince of his House who was carried off, some years ago, by that disorder– [suddenly arrested by it, while on march with his regiment, “near Ruppin, 26th May, 1767.” This is the Prince Henri, junior Brother of the subsequent King, Friedrich Wilhelm II., who, among other fooleries, invaded France, in 1792, with such success. Both Henri and he, as boys, used to be familiar to us in the final winters of the late War. Poor Henri had died at the age of nineteen,–as yet all brightness, amiability and nothing else: Friedrich sent an ELOGE of him to his ACADEMIE, [In
“With heartfelt satisfaction, and with the freest soul, I made my answers to his Majesty. It is true, he potently supported and encouraged me. Ever and anon his Majesty was saying to me: ‘That is very good;–that is excellently thought and expressed;–your mode of proceeding, altogether, pleases me very well;–I rejoice to see how much our ways of thinking correspond.’ Often, too, he had the graciousness to add: ‘But, I weary you with my many questions!’ His scientific questions I answered with simplicity, clearness and brevity; and could not forbear sometimes expressing my astonishment at the deep and conclusive (TIEFEN UND FRAPPANTEN) medical insights and judgments of the King.
“His Majesty came now upon the history of his own maladies. He told me them over, in their series; and asked my opinion and advice about each. On the HAEMORRHOIDS, which he greatly complained of, I said something that struck him. Instantly he started up in his bed; turned his head round towards the wall, and said: ‘Schmucker, write me that down!’ I started in fright at this word; and not without reason! Then our Colloquy proceeded:–
KING. “‘The Gout likes to take up his quarters with me; he knows I am a Prince, and thinks I shall feed him well. But I feed him ill; I live very meagrely.’
EGO. “‘May Gout, thereby get disgusted, and forbear ever calling on your Majesty!’
KING. “‘I am grown old. Diseases will no longer have pity on me.’
EGO. “‘Europe feels that your Majesty is not old; and your Majesty’s look (PHYSIOGNOMIE) shows that you have still the same force as in your thirtieth year.’
KING (laughing and shaking his head). “‘Well, well, well!’
“In this way, for an hour and quarter, with uninterrupted vivacity, the Dialogue went on. At last the King gave me the sign to go; lifting his hat very kindly, and saying: ‘Adieu, my dear M. Zimmermann; I am very glad to have seen you.'”
Towards 6 P.M. now, and Friedrich must sign his Despatches; have his Concert, have his reading; then to supper (as spectator only),–with Quintus Icilius and old Lord Marischal, to-night, or whom? [Of Icilius, and a quarrel and estrangement there had lately been, now happily reconciled, see Nicolai,
“Herr von Catt accompanied me into the anteroom, and Schmucker followed. I could not stir from the spot; could not speak, was so charmed and so touched, that I broke into a stream of tears [being very weak of nerves at the time!]. Herr von Catt said: ‘I am now going back to the King; go you into the room where I took you up; about eight I will conduct you home.’ I pressed my excellent countryman’s hand, I”–“Schmucker said, I had stood too near his Majesty; I had spoken too frankly, with too much vivacity; nay, what was unheard of in the world, I had ‘gesticulated’ before his Majesty! ‘In presence of a King,’ said Herr Schmucker, ‘one must stand stiff and not stir.’ De Catt came back to us at eight; and, in Schmucker’s presence [let him chew the cud of that!], reported the following little Dialogue with the King:–
KING. “‘What says Zimmermann?’
DE CATT. “‘Zimmermann, at the door of your Majesty’s room, burst into a stream of tears.’
KING. “‘I love those tender affectionate hearts; I love right well those brave Swiss people!’
“Next morning the King was heard to say: ‘I have found Zimmermann quite what you described him.’–Catt assured me furthermore, ‘Since the Seven-Years War there had thousands of strangers, persons of rank, come to Potsdam, wishing to speak with the King, and had not attained that favor; and of those who had, there could not one individual boast that his Majesty had talked with him an hour and quarter at once.’ [Fourteen years hence, he dismissed Mirabeau in half an hour; which was itself a good allowance.]
“Sunday 27th, I left Potsdam, with my kind Meckels, in an enthusiasm of admiration, astonishment, love and gratitude; wrote to the King from Berlin, sent him a Tissot’s Book (marked on the margins for Majesty’s use), which he acknowledged by some word to Catt: whereupon I”–In short, I got home to Hanover, in a more or less seraphic condition,–“with indescribable, unspeakable,” what not,–early in November; and, as a healed man, never more troubled with that disorder, though still troubled with many and many, endeavored to get a little work out of myself again. [Zimmermann,
1788), pp. 305-326.]
“Zimmermann was tall, handsome of shape; his exterior was distinguished and imposing,” says Jordens. [Ubi supra, p. 643.] “He had a firm and light step; stood gracefully; presented himself well. He had a fine head; his voice was agreeable; and intellect sparkled in his eyes:”–had it not been for those dreadful hypochondrias, and confused disasters, a very pretty man. At the time of this first visit to Friedrich he is 43 years of age, and Friedrich is on the borders of 60. Zimmermann, with still more famous DIALOGUES, will reappear on us from Hanover, on a sad occasion! Meanwhile, few weeks after him, here is a Visit of far more joyful kind.
SISTER ULRIQUE, QUEEN-DOWAGER OF SWEDEN, REVISITS HER NATIVE PLACE (December, 1771-August, 1772).
Prince Henri was hardly home from Petersburg and the Swedish Visit, when poor Adolf Friedrich, King of Sweden, died. [12th February, 1771.] A very great and sad event to his Queen, who had loved her old man; and is now left solitary, eclipsed, in circumstances greatly altered on the sudden. In regard to settlements, Accession of the new Prince, dowager revenues and the like, all went right enough; which was some alleviation, though an inconsiderable, to the sorrowing Widow. Her two Princes were absent, touring over Europe, when their Father died, and the elder of them, Karl Gustav, suddenly saw himself King. They were in no breathless haste to return; visited their Uncle, their Prussian kindred, on the way, and had an interesting week at Potsdam and Berlin; [April 22d- 29th: Rodenbeck, iii. 45.] Karl Gustav flying diligently about, still incognito, as “Graf von Gothland,”–a spirited young fellow, perhaps too spirited;–and did not reach home till May-day was come, and the outburst of the Swedish Summer at hand.
Some think the young King had already something dangerous and serious in view, and wished his Mother out of the way for a time. Certain it is she decided on a visit to her native Country in December following: arrived accordingly, December 2d, 1771; and till the middle of August next was a shining phenomenon in the Royal House and upper ranks of Berlin Society, and a touching and interesting one to the busy Friedrich himself, as may be supposed. She had her own Apartments and Household at Berlin, in the Palace there, I think; but went much visiting about, and receiving many visits,–fond especially of literary people.
Friedrich’s notices of her are frequent in his Letters of the time, all affectionate, natural and reasonable. Here are the first two I meet with: TO THE ELECTRESS OF SAXONY (three weeks after Ulrique’s arrival); “A thousand excuses, Madam, for not answering sooner! What will plead for me with a Princess who so well knows the duties of friendship, is, that I have been occupied with the reception of a Sister, who has come to seek consolation in the bosom of her kindred for the loss of a loved Husband, the remembrance of whom saddens and afflicts her.” And again, two months later: “… Your Royal Highness deigns to take so obliging an interest in the visit I have had [and still have] from the Queen of Sweden. I beheld her as if raised from the dead to me; for an absence of eight-and- twenty years, in the short space of our duration, is almost equivalent to death. She arrived among us, still in great affliction for the loss she had had of the King; and I tried to distract her sad thoughts by all the dissipations possible. It is only by dint of such that one compels the mind to shift away from the fatal idea where grief has fixed it: this is not the work of a day, but of time, which in the end succeeds in everything. I congratulate your Royal Highness on your Journey to Bavaria [on a somewhat similar errand, we may politely say]; where you will find yourself in the bosom of a Family that adores you:” after which, and the sight of old scenes, how pleasant to go on to Italy, as you propose! [
235. “24th December 1771,” “February, 1772.” See also,
“Eptire a la Reine Douairiere de Suede”
Troubles she has had:
xiii. 74, “written in December, 1770”), and
Reine de Suede,”
Queen Ulrique–a solid and ingenuous character (in childhood a favorite of her Father’s, so rational, truthful and of silent staid ways)–appears to have been popular in the Berlin circles; pleasant and pleased, during these eight months. Formey, especially Thiebault, are copious on this Visit of hers; and give a number of insipid Anecdotes; How there was solemn Session of the Academy made for her, a Paper of the King’s to be read there, [“DISCOURS DE L’UTILITE DES SCIENCES ET DES ARTS DAM UN ETAT” (in
OEuvres de Frederic,
Busching, for the last five or six years, is home from Russia; comfortably established here as Consistorialrath, much concerned with School-Superintendence; still more with GEOGRAPHY, with copious rugged Literature of the undigested kind: a man well seen in society; has “six families of rank which invite him to dinner;” all the dining he is equal to, with so much undigested writing on his hands. Busching, in his final Section, headed BERLIN LIFE, Section more incondite even than its foregoers, has this passage:–
“On the Queen-Dowager of Sweden, Louise Ulrique’s, coming to Berlin, I felt not a little embarrassed. The case was this: Most part of the SIXTH VOLUME of my MAGAZINE [meritorious curious Book, sometimes quoted by us here, not yet known in English Libraries] was printed; and in it, in the printed part, were various things that concerned the deceased Sovereign, King Adolf Friedrich, and his Spouse [now come to visit us],–and among these were Articles which the then ruling party in Sweden could certainly not like. And now I was afraid these people would come upon the false notion, that it was from the Queen-Dowager I had got the Articles in question;–notion altogether false, as they had been furnished me by Baron Korf [well known to Hordt and others of us, at Petersburg, in the Czar-Peter time], now Russian Minister at Copenhagen. However, when Duke Friedrich of Brunswick [one of the juniors, soldiering here with his Uncle, as they almost all are] wrote to me, one day, That his Lady Aunt the Queen of Sweden invited me to dine with her to-morrow, and that he, the Duke, would introduce me,–I at once decided to lay my embarrassment before the Queen herself.
“Next day, when I was presented to her Majesty, she took me by the hand, and led me to a window [as was her custom with guests whom she judged to be worth questioning and talking to], and so placed herself in a corner there that I came to stand close before her; when she did me the honor to ask a great many questions about Russia, the Imperial Court especially, and most of all the Grand- Duke [Czar Paul that is to be,–a kind of kinsman he, his poor Father was my late Husband’s Cousin-german, as perhaps you know]. A great deal of time was spent in this way; so that the Princes and Princesses, punctual to invitation, had to wait above half an hour long; and the Queen was more than once informed that dinner was on the table and getting cold. I could get nothing of my own mentioned here; all I could do was to draw back, in a polite way, so soon as the Queen would permit: and afterwards, at table, to explain with brevity my concern about what was printed in the MAGAZINE; and request the Queen to permit me to send it her to read for herself. She had it, accordingly, that same afternoon.
“A few days after, she invited me again; again spoke with me a long while in the window embrasure, in a low tone of voice: confirmed to me all that she had read,–and in particular, minutely explained that LETTER OF THE KING [one of my Pieces] in which he relates what passed between him and Count Tessin [Son’s Tutor] in the Queen’s Apartment. At table, she very soon took occasion to say: ‘I cannot imagine to myself how the Herr Consistorialrath [Busching, to wit] has come upon that Letter of my deceased Lord the King of Sweden’s; which his Majesty did write, and which is now printed in your MAGAZINE. For certain, the King showed it to nobody.’ Whereupon BUSCHING: ‘Certainly; nor is that to be imagined, your Majesty. But the person it was addressed to must have shown it; and so a copy of it has come to my hands.’ Queen still expresses her wonder; whereupon again, Busching, with a courageous candor: ‘Your Majesty, most graciously permit me to say, that hitherto all Swedish secrets of Court or State have been procurable for money and good words!’ The Queen, to whom I sat directly opposite, cast down her eyes at these words and smiled;–and the Reichsrath Graf von Schwerin [a Swedish Gentleman of hers], who sat at my left, seized me by the hand, and said: ‘Alas, that is true!'”–Here is a difficulty got over; Magazine Number can come out when it will. As it did, “next Easter-Fair,” with proper indications and tacit proofs that the Swedish part of it lay printed several months before the Queen’s arrival in our neighborhood.
Busching dined with her Majesty several times,–“eating nothing,” he is careful to mention and was careful to show her Majesty, “except, very gradually, a small bit of bread soaked in a glass of wine!”–meaning thereby, “Note, ye great ones, it is not for your dainties; in fact, it is out of loyal politeness mainly!” the gloomily humble man.
“One time, the Queen asked me, in presence of various Princes and Princesses of the Royal House: ‘Do you think it advisable to enlighten the Lower Classes by education?’ To which I answered: ‘Considering only under what heavy loads a man of the Lower Classes, especially of the Peasant sort, has to struggle through his life, one would think it was better neither to increase his knowledge nor refine his sensibility. But when one reflects that he, as well as those of the Higher Classes, is to last through Eternity; and withal that good instruction may [or might, IF it be not BAD] increase his practical intelligence, and help him to methods of alleviating himself in this world, it must be thought advisable to give him useful enlightenment.’ The Queen accorded with this view of the matter.
“Twice I dined with her Majesty at her Sister, Princess Amelia, the Abbess of Quedlinburg’s:–and the second time [must have been Summer, 1772], Professor Sulzer, who was also a guest, caught his death there. When I entered the reception-room, Sulzer was standing in the middle of a thorough-draught, which they had managed to have there, on account of the great heat; and he had just arrived, all in a perspiration, from the Thiergarten: I called him out of the draught, but it was too late.” [Busching:
Busching has a great deal to say about Schools, about the “School Commission 1765,” the subjects taught, the methods of teaching devised by Busching and others, and the King’s continual exertions, under deficient funds, in this province of his affairs. Busching had unheard-of difficulty to rebuild the old Gymnasium at Berlin into a new. Tried everybody; tried the King thrice over, but nobody would. “One of the persons I applied to was Lieutenant- General von Ramin, Governor of Berlin [surliest of mankind, of whose truculent incivility there go many anecdotes]; to Ramin I wrote, entreating that he would take a good opportunity and suggest a new Town Schoolhouse to his Majesty: ‘Excellenz, it will render you immortal in the annals of Berlin!’ To which Ramin made answer: ‘That is an immortality I must renounce the hope of, and leave to the Town-Syndics and yourself. I, for my own part, will by no means risk such a proposal to his Majesty; which he would, in all likelihood, answer in the negative, and receive ill at anybody’s hands.'” [Ib. vi. 568.] By subscriptions, by bequests, donations and the private piety of individuals, Busching aiding and stirring, the thing was at last got done. Here is another glance into School- life: not from Busching:–