History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 20
by
Thomas Carlyle

Part 4 out of 6



of, and set going. [Goltz's Letter to the King, "Glogau, 22d June,
1761," is in Tempelhof (v. 88-90), who thinks the plan good.]
Goltz thereupon tasked all his energies, perhaps overmuch; and it
was thought might at last really have done something for the King,
in this matter of the Russians still in separate Divisions,--a
thing feasible if you have energy and velocity; always unfeasible
otherwise. But, alas, poor Goltz, just when ready to march, was
taken with sudden violent fever, the fruit probably of overwork;
and, in that sad flame, blazed away his valiant existence in three
or four days:-gone forever, June 30th, 1761; to the regret of
Friedrich and of many.

Old Ziethen was at once pushed on, from Glogau over the frontier,
to replace Goltz; but, I doubt, had not now the requisite velocity:
Ziethen merely manoeuvred about, and came home "attending the
Russians," as Henri, Dohna and others had done. The Russians
entered Silesia, from the northeast or Polish side, without
difficulty; and (July 15th-20th) were within reach of Breslau and
of an open road to southward, and to junction with Loudon, who is
astir for them there. About Breslau they linger and higgle, at
their leisure, for three weeks longer: and if their junction with
the Austrians "in Neisse neighborhood" is to be prevented or
impeded, it is Friedrich, not Ziethen, that will have to do it.

Junction in Neisse neighborhood (Oppeln, where it should have been,
which is some 35 miles from Neisse), Friedrich did, by velocity and
dexterity, contrive to prevent; but junction somewhere he probably
knows to be inevitable. These are among Friedrich's famed marches
and manoeuvrings, these against the swift Loudon and his slow
Russians; but we will not dwell on them. My readers know the King's
manner in such cases; have already been on two Marches with him,
and even in these same routes and countries. We will say only, that
the Russians were and had been very dilatory; Loudon much the
reverse; and their and Loudon's Adversary still more. That, for
five days, the Russians, at length close to Breslau (August
6th-11th), kept vaguely cannonading and belching noise and
apprehension upon the poor City, but without real damage to it, and
as if merely to pass the time; and had gradually pushed out fore-
posts, as far as Oppeln, towards Loudon, up their safe right bank
of Oder. That Loudon, on the first glimpse of these, had made his
best speed Neisse-ward; and did a march or two with good hope;
but at Munsterberg (July 22d), on the morning of the third or
fourth day's march, was astonished to see Friedrich ahead of him,
nearer Neisse than he; and that in Neisse Country there was nothing
to be done, no Russian junction possible there.

"Try it in Schweidnitz Country, then!" said Loudon. The Russians
leave off cannonading Breslau; cross Oder, about Auras or Leubus
(August 11th-12th); and Loudon, after some finessing, marches back
Schweidnitz-way, cautiously, skilfully; followed by Friedrich,
anxious to prevent a junction here too or at lowest to do some
stroke before it occur. A great deal of cunning marching, shifting
and manoeuvring there is, for days round Schweidnitz on all sides;
encampings by Friedrich, now Liegnitz head-quarter, now Wahlstadt,
now Schonbrunn, Striegau;--without the least essential harm to
Loudon or likelihood increasing that the junction can be hindered.
No offer of battle either; Loudon is not so easy to beat as some.
The Russians come on at a snail's pace, so Loudon thinks it, who is
extremely impatient; but makes no mistakes in consequence, keeps
himself safe (Kunzendorf, on the edge of the Glatz Hills, his main
post), and the roads open for his heavy-footed friends.

In Nicolstadt, a march from Wahlstadt, 16th August, there are
60,000 Russians in front of Friedrich, 72,000 Austrians in rear:
what can he, with at the very utmost 57,000, do against them?
Now was the time to have fallen upon the King, and have consumed
him between two fires, as it is thought might have been possible,
had they been simultaneous, and both of them done it with a will.
But simultaneity was difficult, and the will itself was wanting, or
existed only on Loudon's side. Nothing of the kind was attempted on
the confederate part, still less on Friedrich's,--who stands on his
guard, and, from the Heights about, has at last, to witness what he
cannot hinder. Sees both Armies on march; Austrians from the
southeast or Kunzendorf-Freyberg side, Russians from the northeast
or Kleinerwitz side, wending in many columns by the back of Jauer
and the back of Liegnitz respectively; till (August 18th) they
"join hands," as it is termed, or touch mutually by their light
troops; and on the 19th (Friedrich now off on another scheme, and
not witnessing), fall into one another's arms, ranked all in one
line of posts. [Tempelhof, v. 58-150.] "Can the Reichshofrath say
our junction is not complete?" And so ends what we call the
Prefatory part; and the time of Close Grips seems to be come!--
Friedrich has now nothing for it but to try if he cannot possibly
get hold of Kunzendorf (readers may look in their Map), and cut off
Loudon's staff of bread; Loudon's, and Butturlin's as well; for the
whole 130,000 are now to be fed by Loudon, and no slight task he
will find it. By rushing direct on Kunzendorf with such a velocity
as Friedrich is capable of, it is thought he might have managed
Kunzendorf; but he had to mask his design, and march by the rear or
east side of Schweidnitz, not by the west side: "They will think I
am making off in despair, intending for the strong post of Pilzen
there, with Schweidnitz to shelter me in front!" hoped Friedrich
(morning of the 19th), as he marched off on that errand. But on
approaching in that manner, by the bow, he found that Loudon had
been quite sceptical of such despair, and at any rate had, by the
string, made sure of Kunzendorf and the food-sources. August 20th,
at break of day, scouts report the Kunzendorf ground thoroughly
beset again, and Loudon in his place there. No use marching
thitherward farther:--whither now, therefore?

Friedrich knows Pilzen, what an admirable post it really is;
except only that Schweidnitz will be between the enemy and him, and
liable to be besieged by them; which will never do! Friedrich, on
the moment of that news from Kunzendorf, gets on march, not by the
east side (as intended till the scouts came in), but by the west or
exposed side of Schweidnitz:--he stood waiting, ready for either
route, and lost not a moment on his scouts coming in. All upon the
road by 3 A.M. August 20th; and encamps, still at an early hour,
midway between Schweidnitz and Striegau: right wing of him at
Zedlitz (if the reader look on his Map), left wing at Jauernik;
headquarters, Bunzelwitz, a poor Village, celebrated ever since in
War-annals. And begins (that same evening, the earlier or RESTED
part of him begins) digging and trenching at a most extraordinary
rate, according to plan formed; no enemy taking heed of him, or
giving the least molestation. This is the world-famous Camp of
Bunzelwitz, upon which it is worth while to dwell for a little.

To common eyes the ground hereabouts has no peculiar military
strength: a wavy champaign, with nothing of abrupt or high, much of
it actual plain, excellent for cavalry and their work;--this
latter, too, is an advantage, which Friedrich has well marked, and
turns to use in his scheme. The area he takes in is perhaps some
seven or eight miles long, by as many broad. On the west side runs
the still-young Striegau Water, defensive more or less; and on the
farther bank of it green little Hills, their steepest side stream-
ward. Inexpugnable Schweidnitz, with its stores of every kind,
especially with its store of cannon and of bread, is on the left or
east part of the circuit; in the intervening space are peaceable
farm-villages, spots of bog; knolls, some of them with wood. Not a
village, bog, knoll, but Friedrich has caught up, and is busy
profiting by. "Swift, BURSCHE, dig ourselves in here, and be ready
for any quotity and quantity of them, if they dare attack!"

And 25,000 spades and picks are at work, under such a Field-
Engineer as there is not in the world when he takes to that
employment. At all hours, night and day, 25,000 of them: half the
Army asleep, other half digging, wheeling, shovelling; plying their
utmost, and constant as Time himself: these, in three days, will do
a great deal of spade-work. Batteries, redoubts, big and little;
spare not for digging. Here is ground for Cavalry, too; post them
here, there, to bivouac in readiness, should our Batteries be
unfortunate. Long Trenches there are, and also short; Batteries
commanding every ingate, and under them are Mines: "We will blow
you and our Batteries both into the air, in case of capture!" think
the Prussians, the common men at least, if Friedrich do not.
"Mines, and that of being blown into the air," says Tempelhof, "are
always very terrible to the common man." In places there are
"Trenches 16 feet broad, by 16 deep," says an admiring Archenholtz,
who was in it: "and we have two of those FLATTERMINEN
(scatter-mines," blowing-up apparatuses) "to each battery."
[Archenholtz, ii. 262 &c.]

"Bunzelwitz, Jauernik, Tschechen and Peterwitz, all fortified,"
continues Archenholtz; "Wurben, in the centre, is like a citadel,
looking down upon Striegau Water. Heavy cannon, plenty of them, we
have brought from Schweidnitz: we have 460 pieces of cannon in all
and 182 mines. Wurben, our citadel and centre, is about five miles
from Schweidnitz. Our intrenchments"--You already heard what gulfs
some of them were! "Before the lines are palisades, storm-posts,
the things we call Spanish Horse (CHEVAUX-DE-FRISE);--woods we have
in abundance in our Circuit, and axes busy for carpentries of that
kind. There are four intrenched knolls; 24 big batteries, capable
of playing beautifully, all like pieces in a concert." Four knolls
elaborately intrenched, clothed with cannon; founded upon FLATTER-
mines: try where you will to enter, such torrents of death-shot
will converge on you, and a concert of 24 big batteries begin
their music!--

On the third day, Loudon, looking into this thing, which he has not
minded hitherto, finds it such a thing as he never dreamt of
before. A thing strong as Gibraltar, in a manner;--which it will be
terribly difficult to attack with success! For eight days more
Friedrich did not rest from his spadework; made many changes and
improvements, till he had artificially made a very Stolpen of it, a
Plauen, or more. Cogniazzo, the AUSTRIAN VETERAN, says: "Plauen,
and Daun's often ridiculed precautions there, were nothing to it.
Not as if Bunzelwitz had been so inaccessible as our sheer rocks
there; but because it is a masterpiece of Art, in which the
principles of tactics are combined with those of field-
fortification, as never before." Tielke grows quite eloquent on it:
"A masterpiece of judgment in ground," says he; "and the treatment
of it a model of sound, true and consummate field-engineering."
[Tielke, iii. § BUNZELWITZ (which is praised as an attractive
Piece); OESTERREICHISCHER VETERAN, iv. 79: cited in PREUSS,
ii. 285.]

Ziethen, appointed to that function, watches on the Heights of
Wurben, the citadel of the place: keeps a sharp eye to the
southwest. All round, in huge half-moon on the edge of the Hills
over there, six or more miles from Ziethen, lie the angry Enemies;
Austrians south and nearest, about Kunzendorf and Freyberg.
Russians are on the top of Striegau Hills, which are well known to
some of us; Russian head-quarter is Hohenfriedberg,--who would have
thought it, Herr General von Ziethen? Sixteen years ago, we have
seen these Heights in other tenancy: Austrian field-music and
displayed banners coming down; a thousand and a thousand Austrian
watch-fires blazing out yonder, in the silent June night, eve of
such a Day! Baireuth Dragoons and their No. 67;--you will find the
Baireuth Dragoons still here in a sense, but also in a sense not.
Their fencing Chasot is gone to Lubeck long since; will perhaps pay
Friedrich a visit by and by: their fiery Gessler is gone much
farther, and will never visit anybody more! Many were the reapers
then, and they are mostly gone to rest. Here is a new harvest;
the old SICKLES are still here; but the hands that wielded them--!
"Steady!" answers the Herr General; profoundly aware of all that,
but averse to words upon it.

Fancy Loudon's astonishment, on the third day: "While we have sat
consulting how to attack him, there is he,--unattackable, shall we
say?" Unattackable, Loudon will not consent to think him, though
Butturlin has quite consented. "Difficult, murderous," thinks
Loudon; "but possible, certain, could Butturlin but be persuaded!"
And tries all his rhetoric on Butturlin: "Shame on us!" urges the
ardent Loudon: "Imperial and Czarish Majesties; Kriegshofrath,
Russian Senate; Vienna, Petersburg, Versailles and all the world,--
what are they expecting of us? To ourselves it seemed certain, and
here we sit helplessly gazing!" Loudon is very diligent upon
Butturlin: "Do but believe that it is possible. A plan can be made;
many plans: the problem is solved, if only your Excellency will
believe." Which Butturlin never quite will.

Nobody knows better than Friedrich in what perilous crisis he now
stands: beaten here, what army or resource has he left? Silesia is
gone from him; by every likelihood, the game is gone. This of
Bunzelwitz is his last card; this is now his one stronghold in the
world:--we need not say if he is vigilant in regard to this.
From about the fourth day, when his engineering was only complete
in outline, he particularly expects to be attacked. On the fifth
night he concludes it will be; knowing Loudon's way. Towards
sunset, that evening (August 25th), all the tents are struck:
tents, cookeries, every article of baggage, his own among the rest,
are sent to Wurben Heights (to Schweidnitz, Archenholtz says; but
has misremembered): the ground cleared for action. And horse and
foot, every man marches out, and stands ready under arms.

Contrary to everybody's expectation, not a shot was heard, that
night. Nor the next night, nor the next: but the practice of
vigilance was continued. Punctual as mathematics: at a given hour
of the afternoon, tents are all struck; tents and furnitures, field
swept clear; and the 50,000 in their places wait under arms.
Next morning, nothing having fallen out, the tents come back;
the Army (half of it at once, or almost the whole of it, according
to aspects) rests, goes to sleep if it can. By night there is
vigilance, is work, and no sleep. It is felt to be a hard life, but
a necessary.

Nor in these labors of detail is the King wanting; far from it;
the King is there, as ear and eye of the whole. For the King alone
there is, near the chief Battery, "on the Pfarrberg, namely, in the
clump of trees there," a small Tent, and a bundle of straw where he
can lie down, if satisfied to do so. If all is safe, he will do so;
but perhaps even still he soon awakens again; and strolls about
among his guard-parties, or warms himself by their fires.
One evening, among the orders, is heard this item: "And remember, a
lock of straw, will you,--that I may not have to sleep on the
ground, as last night!" [Seyfarth, ii. 16 n.] Many anecdotes are
current to this day, about his pleasant homely ways and
affabilities with the sentry people, and the rugged hospitalities
they would show him at their watch-fires. "Good evening, children."
"The same to thee, Fritz." "What is that you are cooking?"--and
would try a spoonful of it, in such company; while the rough
fellows would forbid smoking, "Don't you know he dislikes it?"
"No, smoke away!" the King would insist.

Mythical mainly, these stories; but the dialect of them true;
and very strange to us. Like that of an Arab Sheik among his
tribesmen; like that of a man whose authority needs no keeping up,
but is a Law of Nature to himself and everybody. He permits a
little bantering even; a rough joke against himself, if it spring
sincerely from the complexion of the fact. The poor men are
terribly tired of this work: such bivouacking, packing, unpacking;
and continual waiting for the tug of battle, which never comes.
Biscuits, meal are abundant enough; but flesh-meat wearing low;
above all, no right sleep to be had. Friedrich's own table, I
should think, is very sparingly beset ("A cup of chocolate is my
dinner on marching-days," wrote he once, this Season);
certainly his Lodging,--damp ground, and the straw sometimes
forgotten,--is none of the best. And thus it has to last, night
after night and day after day. On September 8th, General Bulow went
out for a little butcher's-meat; did bring home "200 head of neat
cattle [I fear, not very fat] and 300 sheep." [Tempelhof, v. 172.]

Loudon, all this while, is laboring, as man seldom did, to bring
Butturlin to the striking place; who continues flaccid, Loudon
screwing and rescrewing, altogether in vain. Loudon does not deny
the difficulty; but insists on the possibility, the necessity:
Councils of War are bid, remonstrances, encouragements. "We will
lend you a Corps," answers Butturlin; "but as to our Army
cooperating,--except in that far-off way, it is too dangerous!"
Meanwhile provisions are running low; the time presses. A formal
Plan, presented by the ardent Loudon ,--Loudon himself to take the
deadlier part,--"Mark it, noble Russian gentlemen; and you to have
the easier!"--surely that is loyal, and not in the old cat's-paw
way? But in that, too, there is an offence. Butturlin and the
Russians grumble to themselves: "And you to take all the credit, as
you did at Kunersdorf? A mere adjunct, or auxiliary, we: and we are
a Feldmarschall; and you, what is your rank and seniority?" In
short, they will not do it; and in the end coldly answer: "A Corps,
if you like; but the whole Army, positively no." Upon which Loudon
goes home half mad; and has a colic for eight-and-forty hours.
This was September 2d; the final sour refusal;--nearly heart-
breaking to Loudon. Provisions are run so low withal: the Campaign
season all but done; result, nothing: not even an attempt at
a result.

No Prussian, from Friedrich downwards, had doubted but the attack
would be: the grand upshot and fiery consummation of these dark
continual hardships and nocturnal watchings. Thrice over, on
different nights, the Prussians imagined Loudon to have drawn out,
intending actual business; and thrice over to have drawn in again,
--instead of once only, as was the fact, and then taken colic.
[Tempelhof, v. 170.] Friedrich's own notion, that "over dinner,
glass in hand," the two Generals had, in the enthusiasm of such a
moment, agreed to do it, but on sober inspection found it too
dubious, [ OEuvres de Frederic, v. 125.]
appears to be ungrounded. Whether they could in reality have
stormed him, had they all been willing, is still a question;
and must continue one. Wednesday evening, 9th September, there was
much movement noticeable in the Russian camp; also among the
Austrian, there are regiments, foot and horse, coming down
hitherward . "Meaning to try it then?" thought Friedrich, and got
at once under arms. Suppositions were various; but about 10 at
night, the whole Russian Camp went up in flame; and, next morning,
the Russians were not there.

Russian main Army clean gone; already got to Jauer, as we hear; and
Beck with a Division to see them safe across the Oder;--only
Czernichef and 20,000 being left, as a Corps of Loudon's. Who, with
all Austrians, are quiet in their Heights of Kunzendorf again.
And thus, on the twentieth morning, September 10th, this strange
Business terminated. Shot of those batteries is drawn again;
powder of those mines lifted out again: no firing of your heavy
Artillery at all, nor even of your light, after such elaborate
charging and shoving of it hither and thither for the last three
weeks. The Prussians cease their bivouacking, nightly striking of
tents; and encamp henceforth in a merely human manner; their
"Spanish Riders" (FRISIAN Horse, CHEVAUX-DE-FRISE, others of us
call them), their Storm-pales and elaborate wooden Engineerings,
they gradually burn as fuel in the cold nights; finding Loudon
absolutely quiescent, and that the thing is over, for the present.
One huge peril handsomely staved away, though so many
others impend.

By way of accelerating Butturlin, Friedrich, next day, September
11th, despatched General Platen with some 8,000 (so I will guess
them from Tempelhof's enumeration by battalions), to get round the
flank of Butturlin, and burn his Magazines. Platen, a valiant
skilful person, did this business, as he was apt to do, in a
shining style; shot dexterously forward by the skirts of Butturlin;
heard of a big WAGENBURG or Travelling Magazine of his, at Gostyn
over the Polish Frontier; in fact, his travelling bread-basket,
arranged as "Wagon-fortress" in and round some Convent there, with
trenches, brick walls, cannon and defence considered strong enough
for so important a necessary of the road. September 15th, Platen,
before cock-crow, burst out suddenly on this Wagon-fortress, with
its cannons, trenches, brick walls and defensive Russians;
stormed into it with extraordinary fury: "Fixed bayonets," ordered
he at the main point of their defence, "not a shot till they are
tumbled out!"--tumbled them out accordingly, into flight and ruin;
took of prisoners 1,845, seven cannon, and burnt the 5,000
provender wagons, which was the soul of the adventure; and directly
got upon the road again. [Tempelhof, v. 281-293;
Helden-Geschichte, vi. 643-649.] Detachments of him
then fell on Posen, on Posen and other small Russian repositories
in those parts,--hay-magazines, biscuit-stores soldiers' uniforms;
distributed or burnt the same;--completely destroying the
travelling haversack or general road-bag of Butturlin; a Butturlin
that will have to hasten forward or starve.

Which done, Platen (not waiting the King's new orders, but
anticipating them, to the King's great contentment) marched
instantly, with his best speed and skilfulest contrivance of routes
and methods, not back to the King, but onward towards Colberg,--
(which he knows, as readers shall anon, to be much in need of him
at present);--and without injury, though begirt all the way by a
hurricane of Cossacks and light people doing their utmost upon him,
arrived there September 25th; victoriously cutting in across the
Besieging Party: and will again be visible enough when we arrive
there. Indignant Butturlin chased violently, eager to punish
Platen; but could get no hold: found Platen was clear off, to
Pommern,--on what errand Butturlin knew well, if not so well what
to do in consequence. "Reinforce our poor Besiegers there, and
again reinforce [to enormous amounts, 40,000 of them in the end];--
get bread from them withal:--and, before long, flow bodily
thitherward, for bread to ourselves and for their poor sake!"
That, on the whole, was what Butturlin did.

Friedrich stayed at Bunzelwitz above a fortnight after Butturlin.
"Why did not Friedrich stay altogether, and wait here?" said some,
triumphantly soon after. That was not well possible.
His Schweidnitz Magazine is worn low; not above a month's provision
now left for so many of us. The rate of sickness, too, gets heavier
and heavier in this Bunzelwitz Circuit. In fine, it is greatly
desirable that Loudon, who has nothing but Bohemia for outlook,
should be got to start thither as soon as possible, and be
quickened homeward. September 25th-26th, Friedrich will be under
way again.

And, in the mean while, may not we employ this fortnight of
quiescence in noting certain other things of interest to him and us
which have occurred, or are occurring, in other parts of the Field
of War? Of Henri in Saxony we undertook to say nothing; and indeed
hitherto,--big Daun with his Lacys and Reichsfolk, lying so
quiescent, tethered by considerations (Daun continually detaching,
watching, for support of his Loudon and Russians and their thrice-
important operation, which has just had such a finish),--there
could almost nothing be said. Nothing hitherto, or even henceforth,
as it proves, except mutual vigilances, multifarious bickerings,
manoeuvrings, affairs of posts: sharp bits of cutting (Seidlitz,
Green Kleist and other sharp people there); which must not detain
us in such speed. But there are two points, the Britannic-French
Campaign, and the Third Siege of Colberg; which in no rate of speed
could be quite omitted.


OF FERDINAND'S BATTLE OF VELLINGHAUSEN (15th-16th July);
AND THE CAMPAIGN 1761.

Vellinghausen is a poor little moory Hamlet in Paderborn Country,
near the south or left bank of the Lippe River; lies to the north
of Soest,--some 15 miles to your left-hand there, as you go by rail
from Aachen to Paderborn;--but nobody now has ever heard of it at
Soest or elsewhere, famous as it once became a hundred years ago.
Ferdinand had taken a singular position there, in the early days of
July, 1761. Here is brief Notice of that Affair, and of some
results, or adjuncts, still more important, which it had:--

"This Year, Ferdinand's Campaign is more difficult than ever;
Choiseul having made a quite spasmodic effort towards Hanover,
while negotiating for Peace. Two Armies, counting together 160,000
men, in great completeness of equipment, Choiseul has got on foot,
against Ferdinand's of 95,000. Had a fine dashing plan, too;--
devised by himself (something of a Soldier he too, and full of what
the mess-rooms call 'dash');--not so bad a Plan of the dashing
kind, say judges. But it was marred sadly in one point:
That Broglio, on issuing from his Hessian Winter-quarters, is not
to be sole General; that Soubise, from the Lower-Rhine Country, is
to be Co-General;--such the inexorable will of Pompadour.
This clause of the business Ferdinand, at an early stage, appears
to have guessed or discerned might, for him, be the saving clause.

"Now, as formerly, Ferdinand's first grand business is to guard
Lippstadt,--guard it now from these two Generals:--and, singular to
see, instead of opposing the junction of them, he has submitted
cheerfully to let them join. And in the course of a week or two
after taking the field, is found to be on the western or outmost
flank of Soubise, crushing him up towards Broglio, not otherwise!
And has, partly by accident, taken a position at Vellinghausen
which infinitely puzzles Broglio and Soubise, when they rush into
junction at Soest (July 6th)) and study the thing, with their own
eyes, for eight whole days, in concert.' What continual
reconnoitring, galloping about of high-plumed gentlemen together or
apart; what MEMOIR-ing, mutual consulting, beating of brains, to
little purpose, during those eight days!--

"Ferdinand stands in moory difficult ground, length of him about
eight miles, looking eastward; with his left at Vellinghausen and
the Lippe; centre of him is astride of the Ahse (centre partly, and
right wing wholly, are on the south side of Ahse), which is a
branch of Lippe; and in front, he has various little Hamlets,
Kirch-Denkern [KIRCH-Denkern, for there are three or four other
Denkerns thereabouts], Scheidingen, Wambeln and others; and his
right wing is covered farther by a quaggy brook, which runs into
the above-said Ahse, and is a SUB-branch of Lippe. At most of these
Villages Ferdinand has thrown up something of earthworks: there are
bogs, rough places, woods; all are turned to advantage.
Ferdinand is in a strongish, but yet a dangerous position; and will
give difficulties, and does give endless dubieties, to these high-
plumed gentlemen galloping about with their spy-glasses for eight
days. One possibility they pretty soon discern in him: His left
flank rests on Lippe, yes; but his right flank is in the air, has
nothing to rest on;--here surely is some possibility for us?
A strong Position, that of his; but if driven out of it by any
method, he has no retreat; is tumbled back into the ANGLE where
Ahse and Lippe meet, and into the little Town of Hamm there, where
his Magazine is. What a fate for him, if we succeed!--

"Ferdinand, by the incessant reconnoitring and other symptoms,
judges what is coming; concludes he will be attacked in this
posture of his; and on the whole, what critics now reckon very wise
and very courageous of him, determines to stand his chance in it.
The consultations of Broglio and Soubise are a thing unique to look
upon; spread over volumes of Official Record, and about a volume
and a half even of BOURCET, where it is still almost amusing to
read; [ Memoires Historiques (that is to say,
for most part, Selection of Official Papers) sur la Guerre
que les Francais ont soutenue en Allemagne depuis 1757 jusqu'au
1762: par M. de Bourcet, Lieutenant-General des Armees
du Roi (3 tomes, Paris, 1792);--worthily done; but occupied,
two-thirds of it, with this Vellinghausen and the paltry "Campaign
of 1761"!] and ending in helpless downbreak on both parts.
Of strategic faculty nobody supposes they had much, and nearly all
of it is in Broglio; Soubise being strong in Court-favor only.
Exquisitely polite they both strive to be; and under the exquisite
politeness, what infirmities of temper, splenetic suspicions, and
in fact mutual hatred lay hidden, could never be accurately known.
'Attack him, Sunday next; on the 13th!' so, at the long last, both
of them had said. And then, on more reflection, Broglio afterwards:
'Or not till the 15th, M. le Prince; till I reconnoitre yet again,
and drive in his outposts?' 'M. le Marechal's will is always mine:
Tuesday, 15th, reconnoitre him, drive him in; be it so, then!'
answers Soubise, with extreme politeness,--but thinking in his own
mind (or thought to be thinking), 'Wants to do it himself, or to
get the credit of doing it, as in former cases; and bring me into
disgrace!' Not quite an insane notion either, on Soubise's part,
say some who have looked into the Broglio-Soubise Controversy;--
which far be it from any of us, at this or at any time, to do.
Here are the facts that ensued.

"TUESDAY, JULY 15th, 1761, Broglio reconnoitred with intensity all
day, drove in all Ferdinand's outposts; and about six in the
evening, seeing hope of surprise, or spurred by some notion of
doing the feat by himself, suddenly burst into onslaught on
Ferdinand's Position: 'Vellinghausen yonder, and the woody
strengths about,--could not we get hold of that; it would be so
convenient to-morrow morning!' Granby and the English are in camp
about Vellinghausen; and are taken quite on the sudden: but they
drew out rapidly, in a state of bottled indignation, and fought,
all of them,--Pembroke's Brigade of Horse, Cavendish's of Foot,
BERG-SCHOTTEN, Maxwell's Brigade and the others, in a highly
satisfactory way,--'MIT UNBESCHREIBLICHER TAPFERKEIT,' says
Mauvillon on this occasion again. Broglio truly has burst out into
enormous cannonade, musketade and cavalry-work, in this part;
and struggles at it, almost four hours,--a furious, and especially
a very noisy business, charging, recharging through the woods
there;--but, met in this manner, finds he can make nothing of it;
and about 10 at night, leaves off till a new morning.

"Next morning, about 4, Broglio, having diligently warned Soubise
overnight, recommenced; again very fiercely, and with loud
cannonading; but with result worse than before.
Ferdinand overnight, while Broglio was warning Soubise, had
considerably strengthened his left wing here,--by detachments from
the right or Anti-Soubise wing; judging, with good foresight, how
Soubise would act. And accordingly, while poor Broglio kept
storming forward with his best ability, and got always hurled back
again, Soubise took matters easy; 'had understood the hour of
attack to be' so-and-so, 'had understood' this and that; and on the
whole, except summoning or threatening, in the most languid way,
one outlying redoubt ('redoubt of Scheidingen') on Ferdinand's
right wing, did nothing, or next to nothing, for behoof of his
Broglio. Who, hour after hour, finds himself ever worse bested;--
those Granby people proving 'indescribable' once more [their
Wutgenau also with his Hanoverians NOT being absent, as they rather
were last night];--and about 10 in the morning gives up the bad
job; and sets about retiring. If retiring be now permissible;
which it is not altogether. Ferdinand, watching intently through
his glass the now silent Broglio, discerns 'Some confusion in the
Marechal yonder!'--and orders a general charge of the left wing
upon Broglio; which considerably quickened his retreat; and broke
it into flight, and distressful wreck and capture, in some parts,--
Regiment ROUGE, for one item, falling wholly, men, cannon, flags
and furniture, to that Maxwell and his Brigade.

"Ferdinand lost, by the indistinct accounts, 'from 1,500 to 2,000:'
Broglio's loss was 'above 5,000; 2,000 of them prisoners.'
Soubise, for his share, 'had of killed 24,'--O you laggard of a
Soubise! [Mauvillon, ii. 171-189; Tempelhof, v. 207-221;
Bourcet, ii. 75 et seq. In Helden-Geschichte
(vi. 770-782-792) the French Account, and the English (or Allied),
with LISTS, and the like. Slight LETTER from Sir Robert Murray
Keith to his Excellency Papa, now at Petersburg, "Excellency
first," as we used to define him, stands in the miserably edited
Memoirs and Correspondence (London, 1849),
i. 104-105; and may tempt you to a reading; but alters nothing,
adds little or nothing. Sir R. fights here as a Colonel of
Highlanders, but afterwards became "Excellency second" of his
name.] And it is a Battle lost to Choiseul's grand Pair of Armies;
a Campaign checked in mid volley; and nothing but recriminations,
courts-martial, shrieky jargonings,--and plain incompatibility
between the two Marechaux de France; so that they had to part
company, and go each his own road henceforth. Choiseul remonstrates
with them, urges, eucourages; writes the 'admirablest Despatches;'
to no purpose. 'How ridiculous and humiliating would it be for us,
if, with Two Armies of such strength, we accomplished nothing, and
the whole Campaign were lost!' writes he once to them.

"Which was in fact the result arrived at; the two Generals parting
company for this Campaign (and indeed for all others); and each, in
his own way, proving futile. Soubise, with some 30,000, went
gasconading about, in the Westphalian, or extreme western parts;
taking Embden (from two Companies of Chelsea Pensioners; to whom he
broke his word, poor old souls;--to whom, and much more to the
Populations there [LETTER FROM A FRENCH PROTESTANT GENTLEMAN AT
GRONINGEN; followed by confirmatory LETTER FROM &c. &c. (copied
into Gentleman's Magazine for 1761), give
special details of the altogether ULTRA-Soltikof atrocities
perpetrated by Soubise's people (doubtless against his will) on the
recalcitrant or disaffected Peasants, on the &c. &c.]),--taking
Embden, not taking Bremen; and in fact doing nothing, except keep
the Gazetteers in vain noise: a Soubise not in force, by himself,
to shake Ferdinand; and who, it is remarked, now and formerly,
always prefers to be at a good distance from that Gentleman.
Broglio, on the other hand, keeps violently pulsing out, round
Ferdinand's flanks; taking Wolfenbuttel (Broglio's for two days),
besieging Brunswick (for one day);-and, in short, leaving, he too,
the matter as he had found it. A man of difficult, litigious
temper, I should judge; but clearly has something of generalship:
'does understand tactic, if strategy NOT,' said everybody;
'while Soubise, in both capacities, is plain zero!' [Excellency
Stanley (see INFRA) to Pitt, "Paris, 30th July, 1761:" in
THACKERAY, ii. 561-562.] The end, however, was: next Winter,
Broglio got dismissed, in favor of Soubise;--rest from shrieky
jargon having its value to some of us; and 'hold of Hanover' being
now plainly a matter hopeless to France and us."

In this Battle a fine young Prince of Brunswick got killed;
Erbprinz's second Brother;--leading on a Regiment of BERG-SCHOTTEN,
say the accounts. [ "The Life of Prince Albert Henry italic> [had lived only 19 years, poor youth, not much of a
"Life"!-but the account of his Education is worth reading, from a
respectable Eye-witness] of Brunswick-Luneburg, Brother to
the Hereditary Prince; who so eminently &c. at Fellinghausen italic> &c. &c. (London, Printed for &c. 1763). Written
originally in German by the Rev. Mr. Hierusalem"
(Father of the "Young Jerusalem" who killed himself afterwards, and
became, in a sense, Goethe's WERTHER and SORROWS). Price, probably,
Twopence).] Berg-Schotten, and English generally, Pembroke's Horse,
Cavendish's Brigade,--we have mentioned their behavior; and how
Maxwell's Brigade took one whole regiment prisoners, in that final
charge on Broglio. "What a glorious set of fellows!" said the
English people over their beer at home. Beer let us fancy it;
at the sign of THE MARQUIS OF GRANBY, which is now everywhere
prevalent and splendent;--the beer, we will hope, good. And as this
is a thing still said, both over beer and higher liquors, and
perhaps is liable to be too much insisted on, I will give, from a
caudid By-stander, who knows the matter well, what probably is a
more solid and circumstantially correct opinion. Speaking of
Ferdinand's skill of management, and of how very composite a kind
his Army was, Major Mauvillon has these words:--

"The first in rank," of Ferdinand's Force, "were the English;
about a fourth part of the whole Army. Braver troops, when on the
field of battle and under arms against the enemy, you will nowhere
find in the world: that is a truth;--and with that the sum of their
military merits ends. In the first place, their Infantry consists
of such an unselected hand-over-head miscellany of people, that it
is highly difficult to preserve among them even a shadow of good
discipline,"--of MANNSZUCHT, in regard to plunder, drinking and the
like; does not mean KRIEGSZUCHT, or drill. "Their Cavalry indeed is
not so constituted; but a foolish love for their horses makes them
astonishingly plunderous of forage; and thus they exhaust a
district far faster in that respect than do the Germans.

"Officers' Commissions among them are all had by purchase:
from which it follows that their Officers do not trouble their
heads about the service; and understand of it, very VERY few
excepted, absolutely nothing whatever [what a charming set of
"Officers"!]--and this goes from the Ensign up to the General.
Their home-customs incline them to the indulgences of life;
and, nearly without exception, they all expect to have ample and
comfortable means of sleep. [Hear, hear!] This leads them often
into military negligences, which would sound incredible, were they
narrated to a soldier. To all this is added a quiet natural
arrogance (UEBERMUTH),"--very quiet, mostly unconscious, and as if
inborn and coming by discernment of mere facts,--"which tempts them
to despise the enemy as well as the danger; and as they very seldom
think of making any surprisal themselves, they generally take it
for granted that the enemy will as little.

"This arrogance, however, had furthermore a very bad consequence
for their relation to the rest of the Army. It is well known how
much these people despise all Foreigners. This of itself renders
their co-operating with Troops of other Nations very difficult.
But in this case there was the circumstance that, as the Army was
in English pay, they felt a strong tendency to regard their fellow-
soldiers and copartners as a sort of subordinate war-valets, who
must be ready to put up with anything:--which was far indeed from
being the opinion of the others concerned! The others had not the
smallest notion of consenting to any kind of inferior treatment or
consideration in respect of them. To the Hanoverians especially,
from known political feelings, they were at heart, for most part,
specially indisposed; and this mode of thinking was capable of
leading to very dangerous outbreaks. The Hanoverians, a dull steady
people, brave as need be, but too slow for anything but foot
service, considered silently this War to be their War, and that all
the rest, English as well, were here on their [and Britannic
Majesty's] account.

"Think what difficulties Ferdinand's were, and what his merit in
quietly subduing them; while to the cursory observer they were
invisible, and nobody noticed them but himself!" [Mauvillon, ii.
270-272.]

Yes, doubtless. He needed to know his kinds of men; to regard
intensely the chemic affinities and natural properties, to keep his
phosphorescents his nitres and charcoals well apart; to get out of
these English what they were capable of giving him, namely, heavy
strokes,--and never ask them for what they had not: them or the
others; but treat each according to his kind. Just, candid,
consummately polite: an excellent manager of men, as well as of
war-movements, though Voltaire found him shockingly defective in
ESPRIT. The English, I think, he generally quartered by themselves;
employed them oftenest under the Hereditary Prince,--a man of swift
execution and prone to strokes like themselves. "Oftenest under the
Erbprinz," says Mauvillon: "till, after the Fight of Kloster
Kampen, it began to be noticed that there was a change in that
respect; and the mess-rooms whispered, 'By accident or not?'"--
which shall remain mysterious to me. In Battle after Battle he got
the most unexceptionable sabring and charging from Lord Granby and
the difficult English element; and never was the least discord
heard in his Camp;--nor could even Sackville at Minden tempt him
into a loud word.

But enough of English soldiering, and battling with the French.
For about two months prior to this of Vellinghausen, and for more
than two months after, there is going on, by special Envoys between
Pitt and Choiseul, a lively Peace-Negotiation, which is of more
concernment to us than any Battle. "Congress at Augsburg" split
upon formalities, preliminaries, and never even tried to meet:
but France and England are actually busy. Each Country has sent its
Envoy: the Sieur de Bussy, a tricky gentleman, known here of old,
is Choiseul's, whom Pitt is on his guard against; "Mr. Hans
Stanley," a lively, clear-sighted person, of whom I could never
hear elsewhere, is Pitt's at Paris: and it is in that City between
Choiseul and Stanley, with Pitt warily and loftily presiding in the
distance, that the main stress of the Negotiation lies. Pitt is
lofty, haughty, but very fine and noble; no King or Kaiser could be
more. Sincere, severe, though most soft-shining; high, earnest,
steady, like the stars. Artful Choiseul, again, flashes out in a
cheerily exuberant way; and Stanley's Despatches about Choiseul
("CE FOU PLEIN D'ESPRIT," as Friedrich once christens him), about
Choiseul and the France then round him, and the effects of
Vellinghausen in society and the like,--are the liveliest reading
one almost anywhere meets with in that kind. [In THACKERAY, i.
505-579, and especially ii. 520-626, is the Stanley-and-Pitt
Correspondence: Stanley went "23d May;" returned (got his passports
for returning) "September 20th."] Choiseul frankly admits that he
has come to the worst: ready for concessions, but the question is,
What? Canada is gone, for instance; of Canada you will allow us
nothing: but our poor Fisher-people, toiling in the Newfoundland
waters, cannot they have a rock to dry their fish on; "Isle of
Miquelon, or the like?" "Not the breadth of a blanket,"--that is
Pitt's private expression, I believe; and for certain, that, in
polite official language, is his inexorable determination.
"You shall go home out of those Countries, Messieurs; America is to
be English or YANkee, not FRANGcee: that has turned out to be the
Decree of Heaven; and we will stand by that."

So that Choiseul soon satisfies himself it will be a hard bargain,
this with Pitt; and turns the more assiduously to the Majesty of
Spain (Baby Carlos, our old friend, who has sore grudges of his own
against the English, standing grievance of Campeachy Logwood, of
bitter Naples reminiscences, and enough else), turns to Baby
Carlos, time after time, with his pathetic "See, your Most Catholic
Majesty!" And by rapid degrees induces Most Catholic Majesty to go
wholly into the adventure with Most Christian Ditto;--and to say,
at length, or to let Choiseul say for him, by way of cautious
first-step (15th July, a date worth remembering, if the reader
please): "Might not Most Catholic Majesty be allowed perhaps to
mediate a little in this Business?" "Most Catholic Majesty!"
answers Pitt, with a flash as if from the empyrean: "Who sent for
Most Catholic Majesty?"--and the matter catches fire, totally
explodes, and Spain too declares War; in what way is
generally known.

Details are not permitted us. The Catastrophe we shall give
afterwards, and can here say only: FIRST, That old Earl Marischal,
Friedrich's Spanish Envoy, is a good deal in England, coming and
going, at this time,--on that interesting business of the Kintore
Inheritance, doubtless,--and has been beautifully treated.
Been pardoned, disattainted, permitted to inherit,--by the King on
the instant, by the Parliament so soon as possible; [King's Patent
is of "30th April, 1760 [DATED 29th May, 1759], Act of Parliament
to follow shortly;" "August 16th, 1760, Act having passed, is
Marischal's public Presentation to his Majesty (late Majesty);"
Old GAZETTES in Gentleman's Magazine (for
1760), xxx. 201, 392.]--and is of a naturally grateful turn.
SECONDLY, That in the profoundest secrecy, penetrable only to eyes
near at hand and that see in the dark, a celebrated Bourbon Family
Compact was signed (August 15th, 1761, ten days before the digging
at Bunzelwitz began), of which the first news to the Olympian man
(conveyed by Marischal, as is thought) was like--like news of dead
Pythons pretending to revive upon him. And THIRDLY, That,
postponing the Catastrophe, and recommending the above two dates,
15th JULY, 15th AUGUST, to careful readers, we must hasten to
Colberg for the present.


THIRD SIEGE OF COLBERG.

Readers had, some while ago, a flying Note, which we promised to
take up again; about Tottleben's procedures, and a Third Siege of
Colberg coming. Siege, we have chanced to see, there accordingly
is, and a Platen gone to help against it. Siege, after infinite
delays and haggles, has at length come,--uncommonly vivid during
the final days of Bunzelwitz;--and is, and has been, and continues
to be, much in the King's thoughts. Probably a matter of more
concernment to him, before, during and after Bunzelwitz (though the
Pitt Catastrophe, going on simultaneously, is still more important,
if he knew it), than anything else befalling in the distance.
Let us now give a few farther indications on that matter.

Truce between Werner and Tottleben expired May 12th; but for five
weeks more nothing practical followed; except diligent reinforcing,
revictualling and extraordinary fortifying of Colberg and its
environs, on the Prussian part,--Eugen of Wurtemberg, direct from
Restock and his Anti-Swede business, Eugen 12,000 strong, with a
Werner and other such among them, taking head charge outside the
walls; old Heyde again as Commandant within: while on the Russian
part, under General Romanzow, there is a most tortoise-like
advance,--except that the tortoise carries all his resources with
him, and Romanzow's, multifarious and enormous, are scattered over
seas and lands, and need endless waiting for, in the intervals
of crawling.

This is the Romanzow who failed at Colherg once already (on the
heel of Zorndorf in 1758, if readers recollect); and is the more
bound to be successful now. From sea and from land, for five weeks,
there is rumor of a Romanzow in overwhelming force, and with
intentions very furious upon Colberg,--upon the outposts, under
Werner, as first point. Five weeks went, before anything of
Romanzow was visible even to Werner (22d June, at Coslin, forty
miles to eastward); after which his advance (such waiting for the
ships, for the artilleries, the this and the that) was slower than
ever; and for about eight weeks more, he haggles along through
Coslin, through Corlin, Belgard again, flowing slowly forward upon
Werner's outposts, like a summer glacier with its rubbishes;
or like a slow lava-tide,--a great deal of smoke on each side of
him (owing to the Cossacks), as usual. Romanzow's progress is of
the slowest; and it is not till August 19th that he practically
gets possession of Corlin, Belgard and those outposts on the
Persante River, and comes within sight of Colberg and his problem.
By which time, he finds Eugen of Wurtemberg encamped and intrenched
still ahead of him, still nearer Colberg, and likely to give him
what they call "DE LA TABLATURE," or extremely difficult music
to play.

"It was on AUGUST 19th [very eve of Friedrich's going into
Bunzelwitz] that Romanzow,--Werner, for the sake of those poor
Towns he holds, generally retiring without bombardment or utter
conflagration,--had got hold of Corlin and of the River Persante
[with "Quetzin and Degow," if anybody knew them, as his main posts
there]: and was actually now within sight of Colberg,--only 7 or 8
miles west of him, and a river more or less in his way:--when,
singular to see, Eugen of Wurtemberg has rooted himself into the
ground farther inward, environing Colberg with a fortified Camp as
with a second wall; and it will be a difficult problem indeed!

"But Sea Armaments, Swedish-Russian, with endless siege-material
and red-hot balls, are finally at hand; and this pitiful Colberg
must be done, were it only by falling flat, on it, and smothering
it by weight of numbers and of red-hot iron. The day before
yesterday, August 17th, after such rumoring and such manoeuvring as
there has been, six Russian ships-of-war showed themselves in
Colberg Roads, and three of them tried some shooting on Heyde's
workpeople, busy at a redoubt on the beach; but hit nothing, and
went away till Romanzow himself should come. Romanzow come, there
is utmost despatch; and within the eight days following, the
Russian ships, and then the Swedish as well, have all got to their
moorings,--12 sail of the line, with 42 more of the frigate and
gunboat kind, 54 ships in all;--and from August 24th, especially
from August 28th, bombardment to the very uttermost is going on.
[Tempelhof, v. 311.] Bombardment by every method, from sea and from
land, continues diligent for the next fortnight,--with little or no
result; so diligent are Eugen and veteran Heyde.

"SEPTEMBER 4th. The Swedish-Russian gunboats have been much shot
down by Heyde's batteries on the beach; no success had, owing to
Heyde and Eugen: paltry little Colberg as impossible as Bunzelwitz,
it seems? 'Double our diligence, therefore!' That is Romanzow's and
everybody's sentiment here. Romanzow comes closer in, September
4th; besieges in form, since not Colberg, Eugen's CAMP, or brazen
wall of Colberg; and there rises in and round this poor little
Colberg (a 2,000 balls daily, red-hot and other) such a volcano as
attracts the eyes of all the world thither.

"SEPTEMBER 12th. News yesterday of reinforcement, men and
provender, coming from Stettin; is to be at Treptow on the 13th.
Werner, night of the 11th, stealthily sets out to meet it, IT in
the first place; then, joined with it, to take by rearward a
certain inconvenient battery, which Romanzow is building to
westward of us, out that way; to demolish said battery, and be
generally distressful to the rear of Romanzow. At Treptow, after
his difficult night's march, Werner is resting, secure now of the
adventure;--too contemptuous of his slow Russians, as appeared!
Who, for once, surprise HIM; and, at and round Treptow, next
morning, Werner finds himself suddenly in a most awkward
predicament. Werner, one of the rapidest and stormiest of skilful
men, plunged valiantly into the affair; would still have managed
it, they say, had not, in some sudden swoop,--charge, or something
of critical or vital nature,--rapid Werner's horse got shot, and
fallen with him; whereby not only the charge failed, but Werner
himself was taken prisoner. A loss of very great importance, and
grievous to everybody: though, I believe, the reinforcement and
supply, for this time, got mostly through, and the dangerous
battery was got demolished by other means. [Seyfarth,
Beylagen, iii. 238; Tempelhof, v. 314.] This is
Romanzow's first item of success, this of getting such a Werner
snatched out of the game [and sent to Petersburg instead as we
shall hear]; and other items fell to Romanzow thenceforth by the
aid of time and hunger.

"In the way of storming, battering or otherwise capturing Eugen's
Camp, not to speak of Heyde's town, Romanzow finds, on trial after
trial, that he can do as good as nothing; and his unwieldy sea-
comrades (equinoctial gales coming on them, too) are equally
worthless. September 19th [a week after this of Werner, tenth day
after Bunzelwitz had ended], Romanzow made his fiercest attempt
that way; fiercest and last: furious extremely, from 2 in the
morning onwards; had for some time hold of the important 'Green
Redoubt;' but was still more furiously battered and bayoneted out
again, with the loss of above 3,000 men; and tried that no farther.
Impossible by that method. But he can stand between the Eugen-Heyde
people and supplies; and by obstinacy hunger them out: this,
added to the fruitless bombardment, is now his more or less
fruitful industry.

"In the end of September, the effects of Bunzelwitz are felt:
Platen, after burning the Butturlin Magazine at Gostyn, has
hastened hither; in what style we know. Blaten arrives 25th
September; cuts his way through Romanzow into Eugen's Camp, raises
Eugen to about 15,000; [Tempelhof, v. 350.] renders Eugen, not to
speak of Heyde, more impossible than ever. Butturlin did truly send
reinforcements, a 10,000, a 12,000, 'As many as you like, my
Romanzow!' And, in the beginning of October, came rolling
thitherward bodily; hoping, they say, to make a Maxen of it upon
those Eugens and Platens: but after a fortnight's survey of them,
found there was not the least feasibility;--and that he himself
must go home, on the score of hunger. Which he did, November 2d;
leaving Romanzow reinforced at discretion [40,000, but with him too
provisions are fallen low], and the advice, 'Cut off their
supplies: time and famine are our sole chances here!'
Butturlin's new Russians, endless thousands of them, under Fermor
and others, infesting the roads from Stettin, are a great comfort
to Romanzow. Nor could any Eugen--with his Platens, Thaddens, and
utmost expenditure of skill and of valor and endurance, which are
still memorable in soldier-annals, [ Tagebuch der
Unternehmungen des Platenschen Corps vom September bis November
1761 (Seyfarth, Beylagen, iii.
32-76). Bericht von der Unternehmungen des Thaddenschen
Corps vom Jenner bis zum December 1761 (ibid.
77-147).]--suffice to convey provisions through that disastrous
Wilderness of distances and difficulties.

"From Stettin, which lies southwest, through Treptow Gollnow and
other wild little Prussian Towns is about 100 miles; from Landsberg
south, 150: Friedrich himself is well-nigh 300 miles away;
in Stettin alone is succor, could we hold the intervening Country.
But it is overrun with Russians, more and ever more. A Country of
swamps and moors, winter darkness stealing over it,--illuminated by
such a volcano as we see: a very gloomy waste scene; and traits of
stubborn human valor and military virtue plentiful in it with utter
hardship as a constant quantity; details not permissible here only
the main features and epochs, if they could be indicated.

"The King is greatly interested for Colberg; sends orders to
collect from every quarter supplies at Stettin, and strain every
nerve for the relief of that important little Haven. Which is done
by the diligent Bevern, the collecting part; could only the
conveying be accomplished. But endless Russians are afield, Fermor
with a 15,000 of them waylaying; the conveyance is the difficulty."
[ Bericht von den Unternehmungen der Wurtembergischen Corps
in Pommern, vom May 1761 bis December 1761 (Seyfarth,
Beylagen, iii. 147-258). Tempelhof, v.
313-326. Helden-Geschichte, vi. 669-708.]

But now we must return to Bunzelwitz, and September 25th, in Head-
quarters there.



Chapter VIII.

LOUDON POUNCES UPON SCHWEIDNITZ ONE NIGHT (LAST OF SEPTEMBER, 1761).

It was September 25th, more properly 26th, [Tempelhof, v. 327.]
when Friedrich quitted Bunzelwitz; we heard on what errand.
Early that morning he marches with all his goods, first to Pilzen
(that fine post on the east side of Schweidnitz); and from that,
straightway,--southwestward, two marches farther,--to Neisse
neighborhood (Gross-Nossen the name of the place); Loudon making
little dispute or none. In Neisse are abundant Magazines:
living upon these, Friedrich intends to alarm Loudon's rearward
country, and draw him towards Bohemia. As must have gradually
followed; and would at once,--had Loudon been given to alarms,
which he was not. Loudon, very privately, has quite different game
afield. Loudon merely detaches this and the other small Corps to
look after Friedrich's operations, which probably he believes to be
only a feint:--and, before a week passes, Friedrich will have news
he little expects!

Friedrich, pausing at Gross-Nossen, and perhaps a little surprised
to find no Loudon meddling with him, pushes out, first one party
and then another,--Dalwig, Bulow, towards Landshut Hill-Country, to
threaten Loudon's Bohemian roads;--who, singular to say, do not
hear the least word of Loudon thereabouts. A Loudon strangely
indifferent to this new Enterprise of ours. On the third day of
Gross-Nossen (Friday, October 2d), Friedrich detaches General
Lentulus to rearward, or the way we came, for news of Loudon.
Rearward too, Lentulus sees nothing whatever of Loudon: but, from
the rumor of the country, and from two Prussian garrison-soldiers,
whom he found wandering about,--he hears, with horror and
amazement, That Loudon, by a sudden panther-spring, the night
before last, has got hold of Schweidnitz: now his wholly, since
5 A.M. of yesterday; and a strong Austrian garrison in it by this
time! That was the news Lentulus brought home to his King;
the sorest Job's-post of all this War.

Truly, a surprising enterprise this of Loudon's; and is allowed by
everybody to have been admirably managed. Loudon has had it in his
head for some time;--ever since that colic of forty-eight hours, I
should guess; upon the wrecks of which it might well rise as a new
daystar. He kept it strictly in his own head; nobody but Daun and
the Kaiser had hint of it, both of whom assented, and agreed to
keep silence.

"On Friedrich's removal towards Neisse and threatening of Bohemia,"
says my Note on this subject, "Loudon's time had come.
Friedrich had disappeared to southwestward, Saturday, September
26th: 'Gone to Pilzen,' reported Loudon's scouts; 'rests there over
Sunday. Gone to Sigeroth, 28th; gone to Gross-Nossen, Tuesday,
September 29th.' [Tempelhof, v. 330.] That will do, thinks Loudon;
who has sat immovable at Kunzendorf all this while;--and,
WEDNESDAY, 30th, instantly proceeds to business.

"Draws out, about 10 A.M. of Wednesday, all round Schweidnitz at
some miles distance, a ring, or complete girdle, of Croat-Cossack
people; blocking up every path and road: 'Nobody to pass, this day,
towards Schweidnitz, much less into it, on any pretext.' That is
the duty of the Croat people. To another active Officer he intrusts
the task of collecting from the neighboring Villages (outside the
Croat girdle) as many ladders, planks and the like, as will be
requisite; which also is punctually done. For the Attack itself,
which is to be Fourfold, our picked Officers are chosen, with the
20 best Battalions in the Army: Czernichef is apprised; who warmly
assents, and offers every help:--'800 of your Grenadiers,' answers
Loudon; 'no more needed.' Loudon's arrangements for management of
the ladders, for punctuality about the routes, the times, the
simultaneity, are those of a perfect artist; no Friedrich could
have done better.

"About 4 in the afternoon, all the Captains and Battalions, with
their ladders and furnitures, everybody with Instruction very
pointed and complete, are assembled at Kunzendorf: Loudon addresses
the Troops in a few fiery words; assures himself of victory by
them; promises them 10,060 pounds in lieu of plunder, which he
strictly prohibits. Officers had better make themselves acquainted
with the Four Routes they are to take in the dark: proper also to
set all your watches by the chief General's, that there be no
mistake as to time. [In TEMPELHOF (v. 332-349) and ARCHENHOLTZ
(ii. 272-280) all these details.] At 9, all being now dark, and the
Croat girdle having gathered itself closer round the place since
nightfall, the Four Divisions march to their respective starting-
places; will wait there, silent; and about 2 in the morning, each
at its appointed minute, step forward on their business. With fixed
bayonets all of them; no musketry permitted till the works are won.
Loudon will wait at the Village of Schonbrunn [not WARKOTSCH'S
Schonbrunn, of which by and by, and which also is not far [See
ARCHENHOLTZ, ii. 287; and correct his mistake of the two places.]]
--at Schonbrunn, within short distance; give Loudon notice when you
are within 600 yards;--there shall, if desirable, be
reinforcements, farther orders. Loudon knows Schweidnitz like his
own bedroom. He was personally there, in Leuthen time, improving
the Works. By nocturnal Croat parties, in the latter part of
Bunzelwitz time; and since then, by deserters and otherwise,--he
knows the condition of the Garrison, of the Commandant, and of
every essential point. Has calculated that the Garrison is hardly
third part of what it ought to be,--3,800 in whole, and many of
them loose deserter fellows; special artillery-men, instead of
about 400, only 191;--most important of all, that Commandant
Zastrow is no wizard in his trade; and, on the whole, that the
Enterprise is likely to succeed.

"Zastrow has been getting married lately; and has many things to
think of, besides Schweidnitz. Some accounts say this was his
wedding-night,--which is not true, but only that he had meant to
give a Ball this last night of September; and perhaps did give it,
dancing over BEFORE 2, let us hope! Something of a jolter-head
seemingly, though solid and honest. I observe he is a kind of butt,
or laughing-stock, of Friedrich's, and has yielded some gleams of
momentary fun, he and this marriage of his, between Prince Henri
and the King, in the tragic gloom all round. [Schoning, ii.
SOEPIUS.] Nothing so surprises me in Friedrich as his habitual
inattention to the state of his Garrisons. He has the best of
Commandants and also the worst: Tauentzien in Breslau, Heyde in
Colberg, unsurpassable in the world; in Glatz a D'O, in Schweidnitz
a Zastrow, both of whom cost him dear. Opposition sneers secretly,
'It is as they happen to have come to hand.' Which has not much
truth, though some. Tauentzien he chose; D'O was Fouquet's choice,
not his; Zastrow he did choose; Heyde he had by accident; of Heyde
he had never heard till the defence of Colberg began to be a
world's wonder. And in regard to his Garrisons, it is indisputable
they were often left palpably defective in quantity and quality;
and, more than once, fatally gave way at the wrong moment. We can
only say that Friedrich was bitterly in want of men for the field;
that 'a Garrison-Regiment' was always reckoned an inferior article;
and that Friedrich, in the press of his straits, had often had to
say: 'Well, these [plainly Helots, not Spartans], these will have
to do!' For which he severely suffered: and perhaps repented,--
who knows?

"Zastrow, in spite of Loudon's precautionary Girdle of Croats, and
the cares of a coming Ball, had got sufficient inkling of something
being in the wind. And was much on the Walls all day, he and his
Officers; scanning with their glasses and their guesses the
surrounding phenomena, to little purpose. At night he sent out
patrols; kept sputtering with musketry and an occasional cannon
into the vacant darkness ('We are alert, you see, Herr Loudon!').
In a word, took what measures he could, poor man;--very stupid
measures, thinks Tempelhof, and almost worse than none, especially
this of sputtering with musketry;--and hoped always there would be
no Attack, or none to speak of. Till, in fine, between 2 and 3 in
the morning, his patrols gallop in, 'Austrians on march!' and
Zastrow, throwing out a rocket or two, descries in momentary
illumination that the Fact is verily here.

"His defence (four of the Five several Forts attacked at once) was
of a confused character; but better than could have been expected.
Loudon's Columns came on with extraordinary vigor and condensed
impetuosity; stormed the Outworks everywhere, and almost at once
got into the shelter of the Covered-way: but on the Main Wall, or
in the scaling part of their business, were repulsed, in some
places twice or thrice; and had a murderous struggle, of very
chaotic nature, in the dark element. No picture of it in the least
possible or needful here. In one place, a Powder-Magazine blew up
with about 400 of them,--blown (said rumor, with no certainty) by
an indignant Prussian artillery-man to whom they had refused
quarter: in another place, the 800 Russian Grenadiers came
unexpectedly upon a chasm or bridgeless interstice between two
ramparts; and had to halt suddenly,--till (says rumor again, with
still less certainty) their Officers insisting with the rearward
part, 'Forward, forward!' enough of front men were tumbled in to
make a roadway! This was the story current; [Archenholtz, ii. 275.]
greatly exaggerated, I have no doubt. What we know is, That these
Russians did scramble through, punctually perform their part of the
work;--and furthermore, that, having got upon the Town-Wall, which
was finis to everything, they punctually sat down there;
and, reflectively leaning on their muskets, witnessed with the
gravity and dignity of antique sages, superior to money or money's
worth, the general plunder which went on in spite of
Loudon's orders.

"For, in fine, between 5 and 6, that is in about three hours and a
half, Loudon was everywhere victorious; Zastrow, Schweidnitz
Fortress, and all that it held, were Loudon's at discretion;
Loudon's one care now was to stop the pillage of the poor
Townsfolk, as the most pressing thing. Which was not done without
difficulty, nor completely till after hours of exertion by cavalry
regiments sent in. The captors had fought valiantly; but it was
whispered there had been a preliminary of brandy in them;
certainly, except those poor Russians, nobody's behavior
was unexceptionable."

The capture of Schweidnitz cost Loudon about 1,400 men; he found in
Schweidnitz, besides the Garrison all prisoners or killed, some 240
pieces of artillery,--"211 heavy guns, 135 hand-mortars," say the
Austrian Accounts, "with stores and munitions" in such quantities;
"89,760 musket-cartridges, 1,300,000 flints," [In Helden-
Geschichte, (vi. 651-665) the Austrian Account,
with LISTS &c.] for two items:--and all this was a trifle compared
to the shock it has brought on Friedrich's Silesian affairs.
For, in present circumstances, it amounts to the actual conquest of
a large portion of Silesia; and, for the first time, to a real
prospect of finishing the remainder next Year. It is judged to have
been the hardest stroke Friedrich had in the course of this War.
"Our strenuous Campaign on a sudden rendered wind, and of no worth!
The Enemy to winter in Silesia, after all; Silesia to go
inevitably,--and life along with it!" What Friedrich's black
meditations were, "In the following weeks [not close following, but
poor Kuster does not date], the King fell ill of gout, saw almost
nobody, never came out; and, it was whispered, the inflexible heart
of him was at last breaking; that is to say, the very axis of this
Prussian world giving way. And for certain, there never was in his
camp and over his dominions such a gloom as in this October, 1761;
till at length he appeared on horseback again, with a cheerful
face; and everybody thought to himself, 'Ha, the world will still
roll, then!'" [Kuster, Lebens-Rettungen Friedrichs des
Zweyten (Berlin, 1797), p. 59 &c. It is the same
innocent reliable Kuster whom we cited, in SALDERN'S
case, already.]

This is what Loudon had done, without any Russians, except Russians
to give him eight-and-forty hours colic, and put him on his own
shifts. And the way in which the Kriegshofrath, and her Imperial
Majesty the Kaiserinn, received it, is perhaps still worth a word.
The Kaiser, who had alone known of Loudon's scheme, and for good
reason (absolute secrecy being the very soul of it) had whispered
nothing of it farther to any mortal, was naturally overjoyed.
But the Olympian brow of Maria Theresa, when the Kaiser went
radiant to her with this news, did not radiate in response;
but gloomed indignantly: "No order from Kriegshofrath, or me!"
Indignant Kriegshofrath called it a CROATEN-STREICH
(Croat's-trick); and Loudon, like Prince Eugen long since, was with
difficulty excused this act of disobedience. Great is Authority;--
and ought to be divinely rigorous, if (as by no means always
happens) it is otherwise of divine quality!

Friedrich's treatment of Zastrow was in strong contrast of style.
Here is his Letter to that unlucky Gentleman, who is himself clear
that he deserves no blame: "My dear Major-General von Zastrow,--
The misfortune that has befallen me is very grievous; but what
consoles me in it is, to see by your Letter that you have behaved
like a brave Officer, and that neither you nor the Garrison have
brought disgrace or reproach on yourselves. I am your well-
affectioned King,--FRIEDRICH." And in Autograph this Postscript:
"You may, in this occurrence, say what Francis I., after the Battle
of Pavia, wrote to his Mother: 'All is lost except honor.' As I do
not yet completely understand the affair, I forbear to judge of it;
for it is altogether extraordinary.--F." [
Militair-Lexikon, iv. 305, 306 (Letter undated there;
date probably, "Gross-Nossen, October 3d").]

And never meddled farther with Zastrow; only left him well alone
for the future. "Grant me a Court-Martial, then!" said Zastrow,
finding himself fallen so neglected, after the Peace. "No use,"
answered Friedrich: "I impute nothing of crime to you; but after
such a mishap, it would be dangerous to trust you with any post or
command;"--and in 1766, granted him, on demand, his demission
instead. The poor man then retired to Cassel, where he lived twenty
years longer, and was no more heard of. He was half-brother of the
General Zastrow who got killed by a Pandour of long range (bullet
through both temples, from brushwood, across the Elbe), in the
first year of this War.



Chapter IX.

TRAITOR WARKOTSCH.

Friedrich's Army was to have cantoned itself round Neisse, October
3d: but on the instant of this fatal Schweidnitz news proceeded
(3d-6th October) towards Strehlen instead,--Friedrich personally on
the 5th;--and took quarters there and in the villages round.
General cantonment at Strehlen, in guard of Breslau and of Neisse
both; Loudon, still immovable at Kunzendorf, attempting nothing on
either of those places, and carefully declining the risk of a
Battle, which would have been Friedrich's game: all this continued
till the beginning of December, when both parties took Winter-
quarters; [Tempelhof, v. 349.] cantoned themselves in the
neighboring localities,--Czernichef, with his Russians, in Glatz
Country; Friedrich in Breslau as headquarter;--and the Campaign had
ended. Ended in this part, without farther event of the least
notability;--except the following only, which a poor man of the
name of Kappel has recorded for us. Of which, and the astounding
Sequel to which, we must now say something.

Kappel is a Gentleman's Groom of those Strehlen parts; and shall,
in his own words, bring us face to face with Friedrich in that
neighborhood, directly after Schweidnitz was lost. It is October
5th, day, or rather night of the day, of Friedrich's arrival
thereabouts; most of his Army ahead of him, and the remainder all
under way. Friedrich and the rearward part of his Army are filing
about, in that new Strehlen-ward movement of theirs, under cloud of
night, in the intricate Hill-and-Dale Country; to post themselves
to the best advantage for their double object, of covering Breslau
and Neisse both; Kappel LOQUITUR; abridged by Kuster, whom
we abridge:--

"MONDAY NIGHT, OCTOBER 5th, 1761, The King, with two or three
attendants, still ahead of his Army, appeared at Schonbrunn, a
Schloss and Village, five or six miles south from Strehlen;
[THIS is the Warkotsch Schonbrunn; not the other near Schweidnitz,
as Archenholtz believes: see ARCHENHOLTZ, ii. 287, and the bit of
myth he has gone into in consequence.] and did the owner, Baron von
Warkotsch, an acquaintance of his, the honor of lodging there.
Before bedtime,--if indeed the King intended bed at all, meaning to
be off in four hours hence,--Friedrich inquired of Warkotsch for 'a
trusty man, well acquainted with the roads in this Country.'
Warkotsch mentioned Kappel, his own Groom; one who undoubtedly knew
every road of the Country; and who had always behaved as a trusty
fellow in the seven years he had been with him. 'Let me see him,'
said the King. Kappel was sent up, about midnight, King still
dressed; sitting on a sofa, by the fire; Kappel's look was
satisfactory; Kappel knows several roads to Strehlen, in the
darkest night. 'It is the footpath which goes so-and-so that I
want' (for Friedrich knows this Country intimately: readers
remember his world-famous Camp of Strehlen, with all the
diplomacies of Europe gathered there, through summer, in the train
of Mollwitz). 'JA, IHRO MAJESTAT, I know it!' 'Be ready, then,
at 4.'

"Before the stroke of 4, Kappel was at the door, on Master's best
horse; the King's Groom too, and led horse, a nimble little gray,
were waiting. As 4 struck, Friedrich came down, Warkotsch with him.
'Unspeakable the honor you have done my poor house!' Besides the
King's Groom, there were a Chamberlain, an Adjutant and two mounted
Chasers (REITENDE JAGER), which latter had each a lighted lantern:
in all seven persons, including Kappel and the King. (Go before us
on foot with your lanterns,' said the King. Very dark it was. And
overnight the Army had arrived all about; some of them just coming
in, on different roads and paths. The King walked above two miles,
and looked how the Regiments were, without speaking a word.
At last, as the cannons came up, and were still in full motion, the
King said: 'Sharp, sharp, BURSCHE; it will be MARCH directly.'
'March? The Devil it will: we are just coming into Camp!' said a
cannonier, not knowing it was the King.

"The King said nothing. Walked on still a little while;
then ordered, 'Blow out the lanterns; to horseback now!' and
mounted, as we all did. Me he bade keep five steps ahead, five and
not more, that he might see me; for it was very dark. Not far from
the Lordship Casserey, where there is a Water-mill, the King asked
me, 'Have n't you missed the Bridge here?' (a King that does not
forget roads and topographies which may come to concern him!)--and
bade us ride with the utmost silence, and make no jingle. As day
broke, we were in sight of Strehlen, near by the Farm of
Treppendorf. 'And do you know where the Kallenberg lies?' said the
King: 'It must be to left of the Town, near the Hills; bring
us thither!'

"When we got on the Kallenberg, it was not quite day; and we had to
halt for more light. After some time the King said to his Groom,
'Give me my perspective!' looked slowly all round for a good while,
and then said, 'I see no Austrians!'--(ground all at our choice,
then; we know where to choose!) The King then asked me if I knew
the road to"--in fact, to several places, which, in a Parish
History of those parts, would be abundantly interesting; but must
be entirely omitted here. ... "The King called his Chamberlain;
gave some sign, which meant 'Beer-money to Kappel!'--and I got four
eight-groschen pieces [three shillings odd; a rich reward in those
days]; and was bid tell my Master, 'That the King thanked him for
the good quarters, and assured him of his favor.'

"Riding back across country, Kappel, some four or five miles
homeward, came upon the 'whole Prussian Army,' struggling forward
in their various Columns. Two Generals,--one of them Krusemark,
King's Adjutant [Colonel Krusemark, not General, as Kappel thinks,
who came to know him some weeks after],--had him brought up:
to whom he gave account of himself, how he had been escorting the
King, and where he had left his Majesty. 'Behind Strehlen, say you?
Breslau road? Devil knows whither we shall all have to go yet!'
observed Krusemark, and left Kappel free." [Kuster,
Lebens-Rettungen, pp. 66-76.]

In those weeks, Colberg Siege, Pitt's Catastrophe and high things
are impending, or completed, elsewhere: but this is the one thing
noticeable hereabouts. In regard to Strehlen, and Friedrich's
history there, what we have to say turns all upon this Kappel and
Warkotsch: and,--after mentioning only that Friedrich's lodging is
not in Strehlen proper, but in Woiselwitz, a village or suburb
almost half a mile off, and very negligently guarded,--we have to
record an Adventure which then made a great deal of noise in
the world.

Warkotsch is a rich lord; Schonbrunn only one of five or six
different Estates which he has in those parts; though, not many
years ago, being younger brother, he was a Captain in the Austrian
service (Regiment BOTTA, if you are particular); and lay in
Olmutz,--with very dull oulooks; not improved, I should judge, by
the fact that Silesia and the Warkotsch connections were become
Prussian since this junior entered the Austrian Army. The junior
had sown his wild oats, and was already getting gray in the beard,
in that dull manner, when, about seven years ago, his Elder
Brother, to whom Friedrich had always been kind, fell unwell;
and, in the end of 1755, died: whereupon the junior saw himself
Heir; and entered on a new phase of things. Quitted his Captaincy,
quitted his allegiance; and was settled here peaceably under his
new King in 1756, a little while before this War broke out. And, at
Schonbrunn, October 5th, 1761, has had his Majesty himself
for guest.

Warkotsch was not long in riding over to Strehlen to pay his court,
as in duty bound, for the honor of such a Visit; and from that
time, Kappel, every day or two, had to attend him thither. The King
had always had a favor for Warkotsch's late Brother, as an
excellent Silesian Landlord and Manager, whose fine Domains were in
an exemplary condition; as, under the new Warkotsch too, they have
continued to be. Always a gracious Majesty to this Warkotsch as
well; who is an old soldier withal, and man of sense and ingenuity;
acceptable to Friedrich, and growing more and more familiar among
Friedrich's circle of Officers now at Strehlen.

To Strehlen is Warkotsch's favorite ride; in the solitary country,
quite a charming adjunct to your usual dull errand out for air and
exercise. Kappel, too, remarks about this time that he (Kappel)
gets once and again, and ever more frequently, a Letter to carry
over to Siebenhuben, a Village three or four miles off; the Letter
always to one Schmidt, who is Catholic Curate there; Letter under
envelope, well sealed,--and consisting of two pieces, if you finger
it judiciously. And, what is curious, the Letter never has any
address; Master merely orders, "Punctual; for Curatus Schmidt, you
know!" What can this be? thinks Kappel. Some secret, doubtless;
perhaps some intrigue, which Madam must not know of,--"ACH, HERR
BARON; and at your age,--fifty, I am sure!" Kappel, a solid fellow,
concerned for groom-business alone, punctually carries his Letters;
takes charge of the Responses too, which never have any Address;
and does not too much trouble himself with curiosities of an
impertinent nature.

To these external phenomena I will at present only add this
internal one: That an old Brother Officer of Warkotsch's, a Colonel
Wallis, with Hussars, is now lying at Heinrichau,--say, 10 miles
from Strehlen, and about 10 from Schonbrunn too, or a mile more if
you take the Siebenhuben way; and that all these missives, through
Curatus Schmidt, are for Wallis the Hussar Colonel, and must be a
secret not from Madam alone! How a Baron, hitherto of honor, could
all at once become TURPISSIMUS, the Superlative of Scoundrels?
This is even the reason,--the prize is so superlative.

"MONDAY NIGHT, NOVEMBER 30th, 1761 [night bitter cold], Kappel
finds himself sitting mounted, and holding Master's horse, in
Strehlen, more exactly in Woiselwitz, a suburb of Strehlen, near
the King's door,--Majesty's travelling-coach drawn out there,
symbol that Strehlen is ending, general departure towards Breslau
now nigh. Not to Kappel's sorrow perhaps, waiting in the cold
there. Kappel waits, hour after hour; Master taking his ease with
the King's people, regardless of the horses and me, in this shivery
weather;--and one must not walk about either, for disturbing the
King's sleep! Not till midnight does Master emerge, and the
freezing Kappel and quadrupeds get under way. Under way, Master
breaks out into singular talk about the King's lodging: Was ever
anything so careless; nothing but two sentries in the King's
anteroom; thirteen all the soldiers that are in Woiselwitz;
Strehlen not available in less than twenty minutes: nothing but
woods, haggly glens and hills, all on to Heinrichau: How easy to
snatch off his Majesty! "UM GOTTES WILLEN, my Lord, don't speak so:
think if a patrolling Prussian were to hear it, in the dark!"
Pooh, pooh, answers the Herr Baron.

"At Schonbrunn, in the short hours, Kappel finds Frau Kappel in
state of unappeasable curiosity: 'What can it be? Curatus Schmidt
was here all afternoon; much in haste to see Master; had to go at
last,--for the Church-service, this St. Andrew's Eve. And only
think, though he sat with My Lady hours and hours, he left this
Letter with ME: "Give it to your Husband, for my Lord, the instant
they come; and say I must have an Answer to-morrow morning at 7."
Left it with me, not with My Lady;--My Lady not to know of it!'
'Tush, woman!' But Frau Kappel has been, herself, unappeasably
running about, ever since she got this Letter; has applied to two
fellow-servants, one after the other, who can read writing, 'Break
it up, will you!' But they would not. Practical Kappel takes the
Letter up to Master's room; delivers it, with the Message.
'What, Curatus Schmidt!' interrupts My Lady, who was sitting there:
'Herr Good-man, what is that?' 'That is a Letter to me,' answers
the Good-man: 'What have you to do with it?' Upon which My Lady
flounces out in a huff, and the Herr Baron sets about writing his
Answer, whatever it may be.

"Kappel and Frau are gone to bed, Frau still eloquent upon the
mystery of Curatus Schmidt, when his Lordship taps at their door;
enters in the dark: 'This is for the Curatus, at 7 o'clock
to-morrow; I leave it on the table here: be in time, like a good
Kappel!' Kappel promises his Unappeasable that he will actually
open this Piece before delivery of it; upon which she appeases
herself, and they both fall asleep. Kappel is on foot betimes next
morning. Kappel quietly pockets his Letter; still more quietly,
from a neighboring room, pockets his Master's big Seal (PETSCHAFT),
with a view to resealing: he then steps out; giving his BURSCH
[Apprentice or Under-Groom] order to be ready in so many minutes,
'You and these two horses' (specific for speed); and, in the
interim, walks over, with Letter and PETSCHAFT, to the Reverend
Herr Gerlach's, for some preliminary business. Kappel is Catholic;
Warkotsch, Protestant; Herr Gerlach is Protestant preacher in the
Village of Schonbrunn,--much hated by Warkotsch, whose standing
order is: 'Don't go near that insolent fellow;' but known by Kappel
to be a just man, faithful in difficulties of the weak against the
strong. Gerlach, not yet out of bed, listens to the awful story:
reads the horrid missive; Warkotsch to Colonel Wallis: 'You can
seize the King, living or dead, this night!'--hesitates about
copying it (as Kappel wishes, for a good purpose]; but is
encouraged by his Wife, and soon writes a Copy. This Copy Kappel
sticks into the old cover, seals as usual; and, with the Original
safe in his own pocket, returns to the stables now. His Bursch and
he mount; after a little, he orders his Bursch: 'Bursch, ride you
to Siebenhuben and Curatus Schmidt, with this sealed Letter;
YOU, and say nothing. I was to have gone myself, but cannot;
be speedy, be discreet!' And the Bursch dashes off for Siebenhuben
with the sealed Copy, for Schmidt, Warkotsch, Wallis and Company's
behoof; Kappel riding, at a still better pace, to Strehlen with the
Original, for behoof of the King's Majesty.

"At Strehlen, King's Majesty not yet visible, Kappel has great
difficulties in the anteroom among the sentry people. But he
persists, insists: 'Read my Letter, then!' which they dare not do;
which only Colonel Krusemark, the Adjutant, perhaps dare. They take
him to Krusemark. Krusemark reads, all aghast; locks up Kappel;
runs to the King; returns, muffles Kappel in soldier's cloak and
cap, and leads him in. The King, looking into Kappel's face, into
Kappel's clear story and the Warkotsch handwriting, needed only a
few questions; and the fit orders, as to Warkotsch and Company,
were soon given: dangerous engineers now fallen harmless, blown up
by their own petard. One of the King's first questions was:
'But how have I offended Warkotsch?' Kappel does not know;
Master is of strict wilful turn;--Master would grumble and growl
sometimes about the peasant people, and how a nobleman has now no
power over them, in comparison. 'Are you a Protestant?' 'No, your
Majesty, Catholic.' 'See, IHR HERREN,' said the King to those about
him; 'Warkotsch is a Protestant; his Curatus Schmidt is a Catholic;
and this man is a Catholic: there are villains and honest people in
every creed!'

"At noon, that day, Warkotsch had sat down to dinner, comfortably
in his dressing-gown, nobody but the good Baroness there;
when Rittmeister Rabenau suddenly descended on the Schloss and
dining-room with dragoons: 'In arrest, Herr Baron; I am sorry you
must go with me to Brieg!' Warkotsch, a strategic fellow, kept
countenance to Wife and Rittmeister, in this sudden fall of the
thunder-bolt: 'Yes, Herr Rittmeister; it is that mass of Corn I was
to furnish [showing him an actual order of that kind], and I am
behind my time with it! Nobody can help his luck. Take a bit of
dinner with us, anyway!' Rittmeister refused; but the Baroness too
pressed him; he at length sat down. Warkotsch went 'to dress;'
first of all, to give orders about his best horse; but was shocked
to find that the dragoons were a hundred, and that every outgate
was beset. Returning half-dressed, with an air of baffled
hospitality: 'Herr Rittmeister, our Schloss must not be disgraced;
here are your brave fellows waiting, and nothing of refreshment
ready for them. I have given order at the Tavern in the Village;
send them down; there they shall drink better luck to me, and have
a bit of bread and cheese.' Stupid Rabenau again consents:--and in
few minutes more, Warkotsch is in the Woods, galloping like Epsom,
towards Wallis; and Rabenau can only arrest Madam (who knows
nothing), and return in a baffled state.

"Schmidt too got away. The party sent after Schmidt found him in
the little Town of Nimptsch, half-way home again from his Wallis
errand; comfortably dining with some innocent hospitable people
there. Schmidt could not conceal his confusion; but pleading
piteously a necessity of nature, was with difficulty admitted to
the--to the ABTRITT so called; and there, by some long pole or
rake-handle, vanished wholly through a never-imagined aperture, and
was no more heard of in the upper world. The Prussian soldiery does
not seem expert in thief-taking.

"Warkotsch came back about midnight that same Tuesday, 500 Wallis
Hussars escorting him; and took away his ready moneys, near 5,000
pounds in gold, reports Frau Kappel, who witnessed the ghastly
operation (Hussars in great terror, in haste, and unconscionably
greedy as to sharing);--after which our next news of him, the last
of any clear authenticity, is this Note to his poor Wife, which was
read in the Law Procedures on him six months hence: 'My Child (MEIN
KIND),--The accursed thought I took up against my King has
overwhelmed me in boundless misery. From the top of the highest
hill I cannot see the limits of it. Farewell; I am in the farthest
border of Turkey.--WARKOTSCH.'" [Kuster, Lebens-Rettungen,
p. 88: Kuster, pp. 65-188 (for the general Narrative);
Tempelhof, v. 346, &c. &c.]

Schmidt and he, after patient trial, were both of them beheaded and
quartered,--in pasteboard effigy,--in the Salt Ring (Great Square)
of Breslau, May, 1762:--in pasteboard, Friedrich liked it better
than the other way. "MEINETWEGEN," wrote he, sanctioning the
execution, "For aught I care; the Portraits will likely be as
worthless as the Originals." Rittmeister Rabenau had got off with a
few days' arrest, and the remark, "ER IST EIN DUMMER TEUFEL (You
are a stupid devil)!" Warkotsch's Estates, all and sundry,
deducting the Baroness's jointure, which was punctually paid her,
were confiscated to the King,--and by him were made over to the
Schools of Breslau and Glogau, which, I doubt not, enjoy them to
this day. Reverend Gerlach in Schonbrunn, Kappel and Kappel's
Bursch, were all attended to, and properly rewarded, though there
are rumors to the contrary. Hussar-Colonel Wallis got no public
promotion, though it is not doubted the Head People had been well
cognizant of his ingenious intentions. Official Vienna, like
mankind in general, shuddered to own him; the great Counts Wallis
at Vienna published in the Newspapers, "Our House has no connection
with that gentleman;"--and, in fact, he was of Irish breed, it
seems, the name of him WallISCH (or Walsh), if one cared.
Warkotsch died at Raab (THIS side the farthest corner of Turkey),
in 1769: his poor Baroness had vanished from Silesia five years
before, probably to join him. He had some pension or aliment from
the Austrian Court; small or not so small is a disputed point.

And this is, more minutely than need have been, in authentic form
only too diffuse, the once world-famous Warkotsch Tragedy or
Wellnigh-Tragic Melodrama; which is still interesting and a matter
of study, of pathos and minute controversy, to the patriot and
antiquary in Prussian Countries, though here we might have been
briefer about it. It would, indeed, have "finished the War at
once;" and on terms delightful to Austria and its Generals near by.
But so would any unit of the million balls and bullets which have
whistled round that same Royal Head, and have, every unit of them,
missed like Warkotsch! Particular Heads, royal and other, meant for
use in the scheme of things, are not to be hit on any terms till
the use is had.

Friedrich settled in Breslau for the Winter, December 9th.
From Colberg bad news meet him in Breslau; bad and ever worse:
Colberg, not Warkotsch, is the interesting matter there, for a
fortnight coming,--till Colberg end, it also irremediable.
The Russian hope on Colberg is, long since, limited to that of
famine. We said the conveyance of Supplies, across such a Hundred
Miles of wilderness, from Stettin thither, with Russians and the
Winter gainsaying, was the difficulty. Our short Note continues:--

"In fact, it is the impossibility: trial after trial goes on, in a
strenuous manner, but without success. October 13th, Green Kleist
tries; October 22d, Knobloch and even Platen try. For the next two
months there is trial on trial made (Hussar Kleist, Knobloch,
Thadden, Platen), not without furious fencing, struggling; but with
no success. There are, in wait at the proper places, 15,000
Russians waylaying. Winter comes early, and unusually severe:
such marchings, such endeavorings and endurances,--without success!
For darkness, cold, grim difficulty, fierce resistance to it, one
reads few things like this of Colberg. 'The snow lies ell-deep,'
says Archenholtz; 'snow-tempests, sleet, frost: a country wasted
and hungered out; wants fuel-wood; has not even salt. The soldier's
bread is a block of ice; impracticable to human teeth till you thaw
it,--which is only possible by night.' The Russian ships disappear
(17th October); November 2d, Butturlin, leaving reinforcements
without stint, vanishes towards Poland. The day before Butturlin
went, there had been solemn summons upon Eugen, 'Surrender
honorably, we once more bid you; never will we leave this ground,
till Colberg is ours!' 'Vain to propose it!' answers Eugen, as
before. The Russians too are clearly in great misery of want;
though with better roads open for them; and Romanzow's obstinacy
is extreme.

"Night of November 14th-15th, Eugen, his horse-fodder being
entirely done, and Heyde's magazines worn almost out, is obliged to
glide mysteriously, circuitously from his Camp, and go to try the
task himself. The most difficult of marches, gloriously executed;
which avails to deliver Eugen, and lightens the pressure on Heyde's
small store. Eugen, in a way Tempelhof cannot enough admire, gets
clear away. Joins with Platen, collects Provision; tries to send
Provision in, but without effect. By the King's order, is to try it
himself in a collective form. Had Heyde food, he would care little.

"Romanzow, who is now in Eugen's old Camp, summons the Veteran;
they say, it is 'for the twenty-fifth time,'--not yet quite the
last. Heyde consults his people: 'KAMERADEN, what think you should
I do?' 'THUN SIE'S DURCHAUS NICHT, HERR OBRIST, Do not a whit of
it, Herr Colonel: we will defend ourselves as long as we have bread
and powder.' [Seyfarth, iii. 28; Archenholtz, ii. 304.] It is grim
frost; Heyde pours water on his walls. Romanzow tries storm;
the walls are glass; the garrison has powder, though on half
rations as to bread: storm is of no effect. By the King's order,
Eugen tries again. December 6th, starts; has again a march of the
most consummate kind; December 12th, gets to the Russian
intrenchment; storms a Russian redoubt, and fights inexpressibly;
hut it will not do. Withdraws; leaves Colberg to its fate.
Next morning, Heyde gets his twenty-sixth summons; reflects on it
two days; and then (December 16th), his biscuit done, decides to
'march out, with music playing, arms shouldered and the honors of
war."' [Tempelhof, v. 351-377; Archenholtz, ii. 294-307; especially
the Seyfarth Beylagen above cited.] Adieu to
the old Hero; who, we hope, will not stay long in Russian prison.

"What a Place of Arms for us!" thinks Romanzow;--"though, indeed,
for Campaign 1762, at this late time of year, it will not so much
avail us." No;--and for 1763, who knows if you will need it then!

Six weeks ago, Prince Henri and Daun had finished their Saxon
Campaign in a much more harmless manner. NOVEMBER 5th, Daun, after
infinite rallying, marshalling, rearranging, and counselling with
Loudon, who has sat so long quiescent on the Heights at Kunzendorf,
ready to aid and reinforce, did at length (nothing of "rashness"
chargeable on Daun) make "a general attack on Prince Henri's
outposts", in the Meissen or Mulda-Elbe Country, "from Rosswein all
across to Siebeneichen;" simultaneous attack, 15 miles wide, or I
know not how wide, but done with vigor; and, after a stiff struggle
in the small way, drove them all in;--in, all of them, more or
less;--and then did nothing farther whatever. Henri had to contract
his quarters, and stand alertly on his guard: but nothing came.
"Shall have to winter in straiter quarters, behind the Mulda, not
astride of it as formerly; that is all." And so the Campaign in
Saxony had ended, "without, in the whole course of it", say the
Books, "either party gaining any essential advantage over the
other." [Seyfarth, iii. 54; Tempelhof, v. 275 et seq. (ibid. pp.
263-280 for the Campaign at large, in all breadth of detail).]



Chapter X.

FRIEDRICH IN BRESLAU; HAS NEWS FROM PETERSBURG.

Since December 9th, Friedrich is in Breslau, in some remainder of
his ruined Palace there; and is represented to us, in Books, as
sitting amid ruins; no prospect ahead of him but ruin.
Withdrawn from Society; looking fixedly on the gloomiest future.
Sees hardly anybody; speaks, except it be on business, nothing.
"One day," I have read somewhere, "General Lentulus dined with him;
and there was not a word uttered at all." The Anecdote-Books have
Dialogues with Ziethen; Ziethen still trusting in Divine
Providence; King trusting only in the iron Destinies, and the stern
refuge of Death with honor: Dialogues evidently symbolical only.
In fact, this is not, or is not altogether, the King's common
humor. He has his two Nephews with him (the elder, old enough to
learn soldiering, is to be of next Campaign under him); he is not
without society when he likes,--never without employment whether he
like or not; and, in the blackest murk of despondencies, has his
Turk and other Illusions, which seem to be brighter this Year than
ever. [LETTERS to Henri: in SCHONING, iii. (SOEPIUS).]

For certain, the King is making all preparation, as if victory
might still crown him: though of practical hope he, doubtless often
enough, has little or none. England seems about deserting him;
a most sad and unexpected change has befallen there: great Pitt
thrown out; perverse small Butes come in, whose notions and
procedures differ far from Pitt's! At home here, the Russians are
in Pommern and the Neumark; Austrians have Saxony, all but a poor
strip beyond the Mulda; Silesia, all but a fraction on the Oder:
Friedrich has with himself 30,000; with Prince Henri, 25,000;
under Eugen of Wurtemberg, against the Swedes, 5,000; in all his
Dominions, 60,000 fighting men. To make head against so many
enemies, he calculates that 60,000 more must be raised this Winter.
And where are these to come from; England and its help having also
fallen into such dubiety? Next Year, it is calculated by everybody,
Friedrich himself hardly excepted (in bad moments), must be the
finis of this long agonistic tragedy. On the other hand, Austria
herself is in sore difficulties as to cash; discharges 20,000 men,
--trusting she may have enough besides to finish Friedrich.
France is bankrupt, starving, passionate for Peace; English Bute
nothing like so ill to treat with as Pitt: to Austria no more
subsidies from France. The War is waxing feeble, not on Friedrich's
side only, like a flame short of fuel. This Year it must go out;
Austria will have to kill Friedrich this Year, if at all.

Whether Austria's and the world's prophecy would have been
fulfilled? Nobody can say what miraculous sudden shifts, and
outbursts of fiery enterprise, may still lie in this man.
Friedrich is difficult to kill, grows terribly elastic when you
compress him into a corner. Or Destiny, perhaps, may have tried him
sufficiently; and be satisfied? Destiny does send him a wonderful
star-of-day, bursting out on the sudden, as will be seen!--
Meanwhile here is the English calamity; worse than any Schweidnitz,
Colberg or other that has befallen in this blackest, of the night.


THE PITT CATASTROPHE: HOW THE PEACE-NEGOTIATION WENT OFF BY EXPLOSION;
HOW PITT WITHDREW (3d October, 1761),
AND THERE CAME A SPANISH WAR NEVERTHELESS.

In St. James's Street, "in the Duke of Cumberland's late lodgings,"
on the 2d of October, 1761, there was held one of the most
remarkable Cabinet-Councils known in English History: it is the
last of Pitt's Cabinet-Councils for a long time,--might as well
have been his last of all;--and is of the highest importance to
Friedrich through Pitt. We spoke of the Choiseul Peace-Negotiation;
of an offer indirectly from King Carlos, "Could not I mediate a
little?"--offer which exploded said Negotiation, and produced the
Bourbon Family Compact and an additional War instead. Let us now
look, slightly for a few moments, into that matter and
its sequences.

It was JULY 15th, when Bussy, along with something in his own
French sphere, presented this beautiful Spanish Appendix,--
"apprehensive that War may break out again with Spain, when we Two
have got settled." By the same opportunity came a Note from him,
which was reckoned important too: "That the Empress Queen would and
did, whatever might become of the Congress of Augsburg, approve of
this Separate Peace between France and England,--England merely
undertaking to leave the King of Prussia altogether to himself in
future with her Imperial Majesty and her Allies." "Never, Sir!"
answered Pitt, with emphasis, to this latter Proposition; and to
the former about Spain's interfering, or whispering of
interference, he answered--by at once returning the Paper, as a
thing non-extant, or which it was charitable to consider so.
"Totally inadmissible, Sir; mention it no more!"--and at once
called upon the Spanish Ambassador to disavow such impertineuce
imputed to his Master. Fancy the colloquies, the agitated
consultations thereupon, between Bussy and this Don, in view
suddenly of breakers ahead!

In about a week (July 23d), Bussy had an Interview with Pitt
himself on this high Spanish matter; and got some utterances out of
him which are memorable to Bussy and us. "It is my duty to declare
to you, Sir, in the name of his Majesty," said Pitt, "that his
Majesty will not suffer the disputes with Spain to be blended, in
any manner whatever, in the Negotiation of Peace between the Two
Crowns. To which I must add, that it will be considered as an
affront to his Majesty's dignity, and as a thing incompatible with
the sincerity of the Negotiation, to make farther mention of such a
circumstance." [In THACKERAY, ii. 554;--Pitt next day putting it in
writing, "word for word," at Bussy's request.] Bussy did not go at
once, after this deliverance; but was unable, by his arguments and
pleadings, by all his oil and fire joined together, to produce the
least improvement on it: "Time enough to treat of all that, Sir,
when the Tower of London is taken sword in hand!" [Beatson, ii.
434. Archenholtz (ii. 245) has heard of this expression, in a
slightly incorrect way.] was Pitt's last word. An expression which
went over the world; and went especially to King Carlos, as fast as
it could fly, or as his Choiseul could speed it: and, in about
three weeks: produced--it and what had gone before it, by the
united industry of Choiseul and Carlos, finally produced--the famed
BOURBON FAMILY COMPACT (August 15th, 1761), and a variety of other
weighty results, which lay in embryo therein.

Pitt, in the interim, had been intensely prosecuting, in Spain and
everywhere, his inquiry into the Bussy phenomenon of July 15th;
which he, from the first glimpse of it, took to mean a mystery of
treachery in the pretended Peace-Negotiation, on the part of
Choiseul and Catholic Majesty;--though other long heads, and Pitt's
Ambassador at Madrid investigating on the spot, considered it an
inadvertence mainly, and of no practical meaning. On getting
knowledge of the Bourbon Family Compact, Pitt perceived that his
suspicion was a certainty;--and likewise that the one clear course
was, To declare War on the Spanish Bourbon too, and go into him at
once: "We are ready; fleets, soldiers, in the East, in the West;
he not ready anywhere. Since he wants War, let him have it, without
loss of a moment!" That is Pitt's clear view of the case; but it is
by no means Bute and Company's,--who discern in it, rather, a means
of finishing another operation they have long been secretly busy
upon, by their Mauduits and otherwise; and are clear against
getting into a new War with Spain or anybody: "Have not we enough
of Wars? " say they.

Since September 18th, there had been three Cabinet-Councils held on
this great Spanish question: "Mystery of treachery, meaning War
from Spain? Or awkward Inadvertence only, practically meaning
little or nothing?" Pitt, surer of his course every time, every
time meets the same contradiction. Council of October 2d was the
third of the series, and proved to be the last.

"Twelve Seventy-fours sent instantly to Cadiz", had been Pitt's
proposal, on the first emergence of the Bussy phenomenon. Here are
his words, October 2d, when it is about to get consummated:
"This is now the time for humbling the whole House of Bourbon:
and if this opportunity is let slip, we shall never find another!
Their united power, if suffered to gather strength, will baffle our
most vigorous efforts, and possibly plunge us in the gulf of ruin.
We must not allow them a moment to breathe. Self-preservation bids
us crush them before they can combine or recollect themselves."--
"No evidence that Spain means war; too many wars on our hands;
let us at least wait!" urge all the others,--all but one, or one
and A HALF, of whom presently. Whereupon Pitt: "If these views are
to be followed, this is the last time I can sit at this Board.
I was called to the Administration of Affairs by the voice of the
People: to them I have always considered myself as accountable for
my conduct; and therefore cannot remain in a situation which makes
me responsible for measures I am no longer allowed to guide."
[Beatson, ii. 438.]

Carteret Granville, President of said Council for ten years past,
[Came in "17th June, 1751",--died "2d January, 1763."] now an old
red-nosed man of seventy-two, snappishly took him up,--it is the
last public thing poor Carteret did in this world,--in the
following terms: "I find the Gentleman is determined to leave us;
nor can I say I am sorry for it, since otherwise he would have
certainly compelled us to leave him [Has ruled us, may not I say,
with a rod of iron!] But if he be resolved to assume the office of
exclusively advising his Majesty and directing the operations of
the War, to what purpose are we called to this Council? When he
talks of being responsible to the People, he talks the language of
the House of Commons; forgets that, at this Board, he is only
responsible to the King. However, though he may possibly have
convinced himself of his infallibility, still it remains that we
should be equally convinced, before we can resign our
understandings to his direction, or join with him in the measure he
proposes." [BIOG. BRITANNICA (Kippis's; London, 1784), iii. 278.
See Thackeray, i. 589-592.]

Who, besides Temple (Pitt's Brother-in-law) confirmatory of Pitt,
Bute negatory, and Newcastle SILENT, the other beautiful gentlemen
were, I will not ask; but poor old Carteret,--the wine perhaps sour
on his stomach (old age too, with German memories of his own,
"A biggish Life once mine, all futile for want of this same
Kingship like Pitt's!")--I am sorry old Carteret should have ended
so! He made the above Answer; and Pitt resigned next day.
[Thackeray, i. 592 n. "October 5th" (ACCEPTANCE of the resignation,
I suppose?) is the date commonly given.] "The Nation was
thunderstruck, alarmed and indignant," says Walpole: [
Memoirs of the Reign of George the Third, i. 82 et
seq.] yes, no wonder;--but, except a great deal of noisy jargoning
in Parliament and out of it, the Nation gained nothing for itself
by its indignant, thunderstricken and other feelings. Its Pitt is
irrecoverable; and it may long look for another such.
These beautiful recalcitrants of the Cabinet-Council had,
themselves, within three months (think under what noises and
hootings from a non-admiring Nation), to declare War on Spain,
["2d January, 1762," the English; "18th January," the Spaniard
(ANNUAL REGISTER for 1762, p. 50; or better, Beatson, ii. 443).]
NOT on better terms than when Pitt advised; and, except for the
"readiness" in which Pitt had left all things, might have fared
indifferently in it.

To Spain and France the results of the Family Compact (we may as
well give them at once, though they extend over the whole next year
and farther, and concern Friedrich very little) were: a War on
England (chiefly on poor Portugal for England's sake); with a War
BY England in return, which cost Spain its Havana and its
Philippine Islands.

"From 1760 and before, the Spanish Carlos, his orthodox mind
perhaps shocked at Pombal and the Anti-Jesuit procedures, had
forbidden trade with Portugal; had been drawing out dangerous
'militia forces on the Frontier;' and afflicting and frightening
the poor Country. But on the actual arrival of War with England,
Choiseul and he, as the first feasibility discernible, make Demand
(three times over, 16th March-18th April, 1762, each time more
stringently) on poor Portuguese Majesty: 'Give up your
objectionable Heretic Ally, and join with us against him; will you,
or will you not?' To which the Portuguese Majesty, whose very title
is Most Faithful, answered always: 'You surprise me! I cannot;
how can I? He is my Ally, and has always kept faith with me!
For certain, No!' [ London Gazette, 5th May,
1762, &c. (in Gentleman's Magazine for 1762,
xxxii. 205, 321, 411).] So that there is English reinforcement got
ready, men, money; an English General, Lord Tyrawley, General and
Ambassador; with a 5 or 6,000 horse and foot, and many volunteer
officers besides, for the Portuguese behoof. [List of all this in
Beatson, ii. 491, iii. 323;--"did not get to sea till 12th May,
1762" ( Gentleman's Magazine for 1762,
p. 239).] In short, every encouragement to poor Portugal:
'Pull, and we will help you by tracing.'

"The poor Portuguese pulled very badly: were disgusting to
Tyrawley, he to them; and cried passionately, 'Get us another
General;'--upon which, by some wise person's counsel, that singular
Artillery Gentleman, the Graf von der Lippe Buckeburg, who gave the
dinner in his Tent with cannon firing at the pole of it, was
appointed; and Tyrawley came home in a huff. [Varnhagen van Ense,
GRAF WILHELM ZUR LIPPE (Berlin, 1845), in Vermischte
Schriften, i. 1-118: pp. 33-54, his Portuguese
operations.] Which was probably a favorable circumstance.
Buckeburg understands War, whether Tyrawley do or not.
Duke Ferdinand has agreed to dispense with his Ordnance-Master;
nay I have heard the Ordnance-Master, a man of sharp speeoh on
occasion, was as good as idle; and had gone home to Buckeburg, this
Winter: indignant at the many imperfections he saw, and perhaps too
frankly expressing that feeling now and then. What he thought of
the Portuguese Army in comparison is not on record; but, may be
judged of by this circumstance, That on dining with the chief
Portuguese military man, he found his Portuguese captains and
lieutenants waiting as valets behind the chairs. [VARNHAGEN (gives
no date anywhere).]

"The improvements he made are said to have been many;--and
Portuguese Majesty, in bidding farewell, gave him a park of
Miniature Gold Cannon by way of gracious symbol. But, so far as the
facts show, he seems to have got from his Portuguese Army next to
no service whatever: and, but for the English and the ill weather,
would have fared badly against his French and Spaniards,--42,000 of
them, advancing in Three Divisions, by the Douro and the Tagus,
against Oporto and Lisbon.

"His War has only these three dates of event. 1. May 9th, The
northmost of the Three Divisions [ANNUAL REGISTER for 1762, p. 30.]
crosses the Portuguese Frontier on the Douro; summons Miranda, a
chief Town of theirs; takes it, before their first battery is
built; takes Braganza, takes Monte Corvo; and within a week is
master of the Douro, in that part, 'Will be at Oporto directly!'
shriek all the Wine people (no resistance anywhere, except by
peasants organized by English Officers in some parts); upon which
Seventy-fours were sent.

"2. Division Second of the 42,000 came by Beira Country, between
Tagus and Douro, by Tras-os-Montes; and laid siege to a place
called Almeida [northwest some 20 odd miles from CUIDAD RODRIGO, a
name once known to veterans of us still living], which Buckeburg
had tried to repair into strength, and furnish with a garrison.
Garrison defended itself well; but could not be relieved;--had to
surrender, August 25th: whereby it seems the Tagus is now theirs!
All the more, as Division Three is likewise got across from
Estremadura, invading Alemtejo: what is to keep these Two from
falling on Lisbon together?

"3. Against this, Buckeburg does find a recipe. Despatches
Brigadier Burgoyne with an English party upon a Town called
Valencia d'Alcantara [not Alcantara Proper, but Valencia of ditto,
not very far from Badajoz], where the vanguard of this Third
Division is, and their principal Magazine. Burgoyne and his English
did perfectly: broke into the place, stormed it sword in hand
(August 27th); kept the Magazine and it, though 'the sixteen
Portuguese Battalions' could not possibly get up in time. In manner
following (say the Old Newspapers):--

"'The garrison of Almeida, before which place the whole Spanish
Army had been assembled, surrendered to the Spaniards on the 25th
[August 25th, as we have just heard], having capitulated on
condition of not serving against Spain for six months.

"'As a counterbalance to this advantage, the Count de Lippe caused
Valencia d'Alcantara to be attacked, sword in hand, by the British
troops; who carried it, after an obstinate resistance. The loss of
the British troops, who had the principal share in this affair, is
luckily but inconsiderable: and consists in Lieutenant Burk of
Colonel Frederick's, one sergeant and three privates killed;
two sergeants, one drummer, 18 privates wounded; 10 horses killed
and 2 wounded [loss not at all considerable, in a War of such
dimensions!]. The British troops behaved upon this occasion with as
much generosity as courage; and it deserves admiration, that, in an
affair of this kind, the town and the inhabitants suffered very
little; which is owing to the good order Brigadier Burgoyne kept up
even in the heat of the action. This success would probably have
been attended with more, if circumstances, that could not well be
expected, had not retarded the march of sixteen Portuguese
battalions, and three regiments of cavalry.' [Old Newspapers (in
Gentleman's Magazine for 1762, p, 443).]

"Upon which--upon which, in fact, the War had to end. Rainy weather
came, deluges of rain; Burgoyne, with or without the sixteen
battalions of Portuguese, kept the grip he had. Valencia
d'Alcantara and its Magazine a settled business, roads round gone
all to mire,--this Third Division, and with it the 42,000 in
general, finding they had nothing to live upon, went their ways
again." NOTE, The Burgoyne, who begins in this pretty way at
Valencia d'Alcantara, is the same who ended so dismally at
Saratoga, within twenty years:--perhaps, with other War-Offices,
and training himself in something suitabler than Parliamentary
Eloquence, he might have become a kind of General, and have ended
far otherwise than there?--

"Such was the credit account on Carlos's side: By gratuitous
assault on Portugal, which had done him no offence; result zero,
and pay your expenses. On the English, or PER CONTRA side, again,
there were these three items, two of them specifically on Carlos:
FIRST, Martinique captured from the French this Spring (finished
4th February, 1762): [ Gentleman's Magazine
for 1762, p. 127.]--was to have been done in any case, Guadaloupe
and it being both on Pitt's books for some time, and only
Guadaloupe yet got. SECONDLY, King Carlos, for Family Compact and
fruitless attempt at burglary on an unoffending neighbor, Debtor:
1. To Loss of the Havana (6th June-13th August, 1762), [Ib. pp.
408-459, &c.] which might easily have issued in loss of all his
West Indies together, and total abolition of the Pope's meridian in
that Western Hemisphere; and 2. To Loss of Manilla, with his


 


Back to Full Books