BOOK XVI.
THE TEN YEARS OF PEACE.
1746-1756.
Chapter I.
SANS-SOUCI.
Friedrich has now climbed the heights, and sees himself on the
upper table-land of Victory and Success; his desperate life-and-
death struggles triumphantly ended. What may be ahead, nobody
knows; but here is fair outlook that his enemies and Austria itself
have had enough of him. No wringing of his Silesia from this "bad
Man." Not to be overset, this one, by never such exertions;
oversets US, on the contrary, plunges us heels-over-head into the
ditch, so often as we like to apply to him; nothing but heavy
beatings, disastrous breaking of crowns, to be had on trying there!
"Five Victories!" as Voltaire keeps counting on his fingers, with
upturned eyes,--Mollwitz, Chotusitz, Striegau, Sohr, Kesselsdorf
(the last done by Anhalt; but omitting Hennersdorf, and that sudden
slitting of the big Saxon-Austrian Projects into a cloud of
feathers, as fine a feat as any),--"Five Victories!" counts
Voltaire; calling on everybody (or everybody but Friedrich himself,
who is easily sated with that kind of thing) to admire. In the
world are many opinions about Friedrich. In Austria, for instance,
what an opinion; sinister, gloomy in the extreme: or in England,
which derives from Austria,--only with additional dimness, and with
gloomy new provocations of its own before long! Many opinions about
Friedrich, all dim enough: but this, that he is a very demon for
fighting, and the stoutest King walking the Earth just now, may
well be a universal one. A man better not be meddled with, if he
will be at peace, as he professes to wish being.
Friedrich accordingly is not meddled with, or not openly meddled
with; and has, for the Ten or Eleven Years coming, a time of
perfect external Peace. He himself is decided "not to fight with a
cat," if he can get the peace kept; and for about eight years hopes
confidently that this, by good management, will continue possible;
--till, in the last three years, electric symptoms did again
disclose themselves, and such hope more and more died away. It is
well known there lay in the fates a Third Silesian War for him,
worse than both the others; which is now the main segment of his
History still lying ahead for us, were this Halcyon Period done.
Halcyon Period counts from Christmas-day, Dresden, 1745,--"from
this day, Peace to the end of my life!" had been Friedrich's fond
hope. But on the 9th day of September, 1756, Friedrich was again
entering Dresden (Saxony some twelve days before); and the Crowning
Struggle of his Life was, beyond all expectation, found to be still
lying ahead for him, awfully dubious for Seven Years thereafter!--
Friedrich's History during this intervening Halcyon or Peace Period
must, in some way, be made known to readers: but for a great many
reasons, especially at present, it behooves to be given in
compressed form; riddled down, to an immense extent, out of those
sad Prussian Repositories, where the grain of perennial, of
significant and still memorable, lies overwhelmed under rubbish-
mountains of the fairly extinct, the poisonously dusty and
forgettable;--ACH HIMMEL! Which indispensable preliminary process,
how can an English Editor, at this time, do it; no Prussian, at any
time, having thought of trying it! From a painful Predecessor of
mine, I collect, rummaging among his dismal Paper-masses, the
following Three Fragments, worth reading here:--
1. "Friedrich was as busy, in those Years, as in the generality of
his life; and his actions, and salutary conquests over
difficulties, were many, profitable to Prussia and to himself.
Very well worth keeping in mind. But not fit for History; or at
least only fit in the summary form; to be delineated in little,
with large generic strokes,--if we had the means;--such details
belonging to the Prussian Antiquary, rather than to the English
Historian of Friedrich in our day. A happy Ten Years of time.
Perhaps the time for Montesquieu's aphorism, 'Happy the People
whose Annals are blank in History-Books!' The Prussian Antiquary,
had he once got any image formed to himself of Friedrich, and of
Friedrich's History in its human lineaments and organic sequences,
will glean many memorabilia in those Years: which his readers then
(and not till then) will be able to intercalate in their places,
and get human good of. But alas, while there is no intelligible
human image, nothing of lineaments or organic sequences, or other
than a jumbled mass of Historical Marine-Stores, presided over by
Dryasdust and Human Stupor (unsorted, unlabelled, tied up in blind
sacks), the very Antiquary will have uphill work of it, and his
readers will often turn round on him with a gloomy expression
of countenance!"
2. "Friedrich's Life--little as he expected it, that day when he
started up from his ague-fit at Reinsberg, and grasped the fiery
Opportunity that was shooting past--is a Life of War. The chief
memory that will remain of him is that of a King and man who fought
consummately well. Not Peace and the Muses; no, that is denied him,
--though he was so unwilling, always, to think it denied! But his
Life-Task turned out to be a Battle for Silesia. It consists of
Three grand Struggles of War. And not for Silesia only;--
unconsciously, for what far greater things to his Nation and
to him!
"Deeply unconscious of it, they were passing their 'Trials,' his
Nation and he, in the great Civil-Service-Examination Hall of this
Universe: 'Are you able to defend yourselves, then; and to hang
together coherent, against the whole world and its incoherencies
and rages?' A question which has to be asked of Nations, before
they can be recognized as such, and be baptized into the general
commonwealth; they are mere Hordes or accidental Aggregates, till
that Question come. Question which this Nation had long been
getting ready for; which now, under this King, it answered to the
satisfaction of gods and men: 'Yes, Heaven assisting, we can stand
on our defence; and in the long-run (as with air when you try to
annihilate it, or crush it to NOTHING) there is even an infinite
force in us; and the whole world does not succeed in annihilating
us!' Upon which has followed what we term National Baptism;--or
rather this was the National Baptism, this furious one in torrent
whirlwinds of fire; done three times over, till in gods or men
there was no doubt left. That was Friedrich's function in the
world; and a great and memorable one;--not to his own Prussian
Nation only, but to Teutschland at large, forever memorable.
"'Is Teutschland a Nation; is there in Teutschland still a Nation?'
Austria, not dishonestly, but much sunk in superstitions and
involuntary mendacities, and liable to sink much farther, answers
always, in gloomy proud tone, 'Yes, I am the Nation of
Teutschland!'--but is mistaken, as turns out. For it is not
mendacities, conscious or other, but veracities, that the Divine
Powers will patronize, or even in the end will put up with at all.
Which you ought to understand better than you do, my friend.
For, on the great scale and on the small, and in all seasons,
circumstances, scenes and situations where a Son of Adam finds
himself, that is true, and even a sovereign truth. And whoever does
not know it,--human charity to him (were such always possible)
would be, that HE were furnished with handcuffs as a part of his
outfit in this world, and put under guidance of those who do.
Yes; to him, I should say, a private pair of handcuffs were much
usefuler than a ballot-box,--were the times once settled again,
which they are far from being!" ...
"So that, if there be only Austria for Nation, Teutschland is in
ominous case. Truly so. But there is in Teutschland withal, very
irrecognizable to Teutschland, yet authentically present, a Man of
the properly unconquerable type; there is also a select Population
drilled for him: these two together will prove to you that there is
a Nation. Conquest of Silesia, Three Silesian Wars; labors and
valors as of Alcides, in vindication of oneself and one's Silesia:
--secretly, how unconsciously, that other and higher Question of
Teutschland, and of its having in it a Nation, was Friedrich's sore
task and his Prussia's at that time. As Teutschland may be perhaps
now, in our day, beginning to recognize; with hope, with
astonishment, poor Teutschland!" ...
3. "And in fine, leaving all that, there is one thing undeniable:
In all human Narrative, it is the battle only, and not the victory,
that can be dwelt upon with advantage. Friedrich has now, by his
Second Silesian War, achieved Greatness: 'Friedrich the Great;'
expressly so denominated, by his People and others. The struggle
upwards is the Romance; your hero once wedded,--to GLORY, or
whoever the Bride may be,--the Romance ends. Precise critics do
object, That there may still lie difficulties, new perils and
adventures ahead:--which proves conspicuously true in this case of
ours. And accordingly, our Book not being a Romance but a History,
let us, with all fidelity, look out what these are, and how they
modify our Royal Gentleman who has got his wedding done. With all
fidelity; but with all brevity, no less. For, inasmuch as"--
Well, brevity in most cases is desirable. And, privately, it must
be owned there is another consideration of no small weight:
That, our Prussian resources falling altogether into bankruptcy
during Peace-Periods, Nature herself has so ordered it, in this
instance! Partly it is our Books (the Prussian Dryasdust reaching
his acme on those occasions), but in part too it is the Events
themselves, that are small and want importance; that have fallen
dead to us, in the huge new Time and its uproars. Events not of
flagrant notability (like battles or war-passages), to bridle
Dryasdust, and guide him in some small measure. Events rather
which, except as characteristic of one memorable Man and King, are
mostly now of no memorability whatever. Crowd all these
indiscriminately into sacks, and shake them out pell-mell on us:
that is Dryasdust's sweet way. As if the largest Marine-Stores
Establishment in all the world had suddenly, on hest of some
Necromancer or maleficent person, taken wing upon you; and were
dancing, in boundless mad whirl, round your devoted head;--
simmering and dancing, very much at its ease; no-whither;
asking YOU cheerfully, "What is your candid opinion, then?"
"Opinion," Heavens!--
You have to retire many yards, and gaze with a desperate
steadiness; assuring yourself: "Well, it does, right indisputably,
shadow forth SOMEthing. This was a Thing Alive, and did at one time
stick together, as an organic Fact on the Earth, though it now
dances in Dryasdust at such a rate!" It is only by self-help of
this sort, and long survey, with rigorous selection, and extremely
extensive exclusion and oblivion, that you gain the least light in
such an element. "Brevity"--little said, when little has been got
to be known--is an evident rule! Courage, reader; by good eyesight,
you will still catch some features of Friedrich as we go along.
To SAY our little in a not unintelligible manner, and keep the rest
well hidden, it is all we can do for you!--
FRIEDRICH DECLINES THE CAREER OF CONQUERING HERO; GOES INTO
LAW-REFORM; AND GETS READY A COTTAGE RESIDENCE FOR HIMSELF.
Friedrich's Journey to Pyrmont is the first thing recorded of him
by the Newspapers. Gone to take the waters; as he did after his
former War. Here is what I had noted of that small Occurrence, and
of one or two others contiguous in date, which prove to be of
significance in Friedrich's History.
"MAY 12-17th, 1746," say the old Books, "his Majesty sets out for
Pyrmont, taking Brunswick by the way; arrives at Pyrmont May 17th;
stays till June 8th;" three weeks good. "Is busy corresponding with
the King of France about a General Peace; but, owing to the
embitterment of both parties, it was not possible at this time."
Taking the waters at least, and amusing himself. From Brunswick, in
passing, he had brought with him his Brother-in-law the reigning
Duke; Rothenburg was there, and Brother Henri; D'Arget expressly;
Flute-player Quanz withal, and various musical people: "in all, a
train of above sixty persons." I notice also that Prince Wilhelm of
Hessen was in Pyrmont at the time. With whom, one fancies, what
speculations there might be: About the late and present War-
passages, about the poor Peace Prospects; your Hessian "Siege" so
called "of Blair in Athol" (CULLODEN now comfortably done), and
other cognate topics. That is the Pyrmont Journey.
It is no surprise to us to hear, in these months, of new and
continual attention to Army matters, to Husbandry matters; and to
making good, on all sides, the ruins left by War. Of rebuilding (at
the royal expense) "the town of Schmiedeberg, which had been
burnt;" of rebuilding, and repairing from their damage, all
Silesian villages and dwellings; and still more satisfactory, How,
"in May, 1746, there was, in every Circle of the Country, by exact
liquidation of Accounts [so rapidly got done], exact payment made
to the individuals concerned, 1. of all the hay, straw and corn
that had been delivered to his Majesty's Armies; 2. of all the
horses that had perished in the King's work; 3. of all the horses
stolen by the Enemy, and of all the money-contributions exacted by
the Enemy: payment in ready cash, and according to the rules of
justice (BAAR UND BILLIGMASSIG), by his Majesty." [Seyfarth, ii.
22, 23.]
It was from Pyrmont, May, 1746,--or more definitely, it was "at
Potsdam early in the morning, 15th September," following,--that
Friedrich launched, or shot forth from its moorings, after much
previous attempting and preparing, a very great Enterprise;
which he has never lost sight of since the day he began reigning,
nor will till his reign and life end: the actual Reform of Law in
Prussia. "May 12th, 1746," Friedrich, on the road to Pyrmont,
answers his Chief Law-Minister Cocceji's REPORT OF PRACTICAL PLAN
on this matter: "Yes; looks very hopeful!"--and took it with him to
consider at Pyrmont, during his leisure. Much considering of it,
then and afterwards, there was. And finally, September 15th, early
in the morning, Cocceji had an Interview with Friedrich; and the
decisive fiat was given: "Yes; start on it, in God's name!
Pommern, which they call the PROVINCIA LITIGIOSA; try it there
first!" [Ranke, ii. 392.] And Cocceji, a vigorous old man of sixty-
seven, one of the most learned of Lawyers, and a very Hercules in
cleaning Law-Stables, has, on Friedrich's urgencies,--which have
been repeated on every breathing-time of Peace there has been, and
even sometimes in the middle of War (last January, 1745, for
example; and again, express Order, January, 1746, a fortnight after
Peace was signed),--actually got himself girt for this salutary
work. "Wash me out that horror of accumulation, let us see the old
Pavements of the place again. Every Lawsuit to be finished within
the Year!"
Cocceji, who had been meditating such matters for a great while,
["1st March, 1738," Friedrich Wilhelm's "Edict" on Law Reform:
Cocceji ready, at that time;--but his then Majesty forbore.] and
was himself eager to proceed, in spite of considerable wigged
oppositions and secret reluctances that there were, did now, on
that fiat of September 15th, get his Select Commission of Six
riddled together and adjoined to him,--the likeliest Six that
Prussia, in her different Provinces, could yield;--and got the
STANDE of Pommern, after due committeeing and deliberating, to
consent and promise help. December 31st, 1746, was the day the
STANDE consented: and January 10th, 1747, Cocceji and his Six set
out for Pommern. On a longish Enterprise, in that Province and the
others;--of which we shall have to take notice, and give at least
the dates as they occur.
To sweep out pettifogging Attorneys, cancel improper Advocates, to
regulate Fees; to war, in a calm but deadly manner, against
pedantries, circumlocutions and the multiplied forms of stupidity,
cupidity and human owlery in this department;--and, on the whole,
to realize from every Court, now and onwards, "A decision to all
Lawsuits within a Year after their beginning." This latter result,
Friedrich thinks, will itself be highly beneficial; and be the sign
of all manner of improvements. And Cocceji, scanning it with those
potent law-eyes of his, ventures to assure him that it will be
possible. As, in fact, it proved;--honor to Cocceji and his King,
and King's Father withal. "Samuel von Cocceji [says an old Note],
son of a Law Professor, and himself once such,--was picked up by
Friedrich Wilhelm, for the Official career, many years ago. A man
of wholesome, by no means weakly aspect,--to judge by his Portrait,
which is the chief 'Biography' I have of him. Potent eyes and
eyebrows, ditto blunt nose; honest, almost careless lips, and deep
chin well dewlapped: extensive penetrative face, not pincered
together, but potently fallen closed;--comfortable to see, in a wig
of such magnitude. Friedrich, a judge of men, calls him 'a man of
sterling character (CARACTERE INTEGRE ET DROIT), whose qualities
would have suited the noble times of the Roman Republic.'"
[ OEuvres, iv. 2.] He has his Herculean
battle, his Master and he have, with the Owleries and the vulturous
Law-Pedantries,--which I always love Friedrich for detesting as he
does:--and, during the next five years, the world will hear often
of Cocceji, and of this Prussian Law-Reform by Friedrich and him.
His Majesty's exertions to make Peace were not successful;
what does lie in his power is, to keep out of the quarrel himself.
It appears great hopes were entertained, by some in England, of
gaining Friedrich over; of making him Supreme Captain to the Cause
of Liberty. And prospects were held out to him, quasi-offers made,
of a really magnificent nature,--undeniable, though obscure.
Herr Ranke has been among the Archives again; and comes out with
fractional snatches of a very strange "Paper from England;"
capriciously hiding all details about it, all intelligible
explanation: so that you in vain ask, "Where, When, How, By whom?"
--and can only guess to yourself that Carteret was somehow at the
bottom of the thing; AUT CARTERETUS AUT DIABOLUS. "What would your
Majesty think to be elected Stadtholder of Holland? Without a
Stadtholder, these Dutch are worth nothing; not hoistable, nor of
use when hoisted, all palavering and pulling different ways.
Must have a Stadtholder; and one that stands firm on some basis of
his own. Stadtholder of Holland, King of Prussia,--you then, in
such position, take the reins of this poor floundering English-
Dutch Germanic Anti-French War, you; and drive it in the style you
have. Conquer back the Netherlands to us; French Netherlands as
well. French and Austrian Netherlands together, yours in
perpetuity; Dutch Stadtholderate as good as ditto: this, with
Prussia and its fighting capabilities, will be a pleasant
Protestant thing. Austria cares little about the Netherlands, in
comparison. Austria, getting back its Lorraine and Alsace, will be
content, will be strong on its feet. What if it should even lose
Italy? France, Spain, Sardinia, the Italian Petty Principalities
and Anarchies: suppose they tug and tussle, and collapse there as
they can? But let France try to look across the Rhine again; and to
threaten Teutschland, England, and the Cause of Human Liberty
temporal or spiritual!"
This is authentically the purport of Herr Ranke's extraordinary
Document; [Ranke, iii. 359.] guessable as due to CARTERETUS or
DIABOLUS. Here is an outlook; here is a career as Conquering Hero,
if that were one's line! A very magnificent ground-plan; hung up to
kindle the fancy of a young King,--who is far too prudent to go
into it at all. More definite quasi-official offers, it seems, were
made him from the same quarter: Subsidies to begin with, such
subsidies as nobody ever had before; say 1,000,000 pounds sterling
by the Year. To which Friedrich answered, "Subsidies, your
Excellency?" (Are We a Hackney-Coachman, then?)--and, with much
contempt, turned his back on that offer. No fighting to be had, by
purchase or seduction, out of this young man. Will not play the
Conquering Hero at all, nor the Hackney-Coachman at all;
has decided "not to fight a cat" if let alone; but to do and
endeavor a quite other set of things, for the rest of his life.
Friedrich, readers can observe, is not uplifted with his greatness.
He has been too much beaten and bruised to be anything but modestly
thankful for getting out of such a deadly clash of chaotic swords.
Seems to have little pride even in his "Five Victories;" or hides
it well. Talks not overmuch about these things; talks of them, so
far as we can hear, with his old comrades only, in praise of THEIR
prowesses; as a simple human being, not as a supreme of captains;
and at times acknowledges, in a fine sincere way, the omnipotence
of Luck in matters of War.
One of the most characteristic traits, extensively symbolical of
Friedrich's intentions and outlooks at this Epoch, is his
installing of himself in the little Dwelling-House, which has since
become so celebrated under the name of Sans-Souci. The plan of
Sans-Souci--an elegant commodious little "Country Box," quite of
modest pretensions, one story high; on the pleasant Hill-top near
Potsdam, with other little green Hills, and pleasant views of land
and water, all round--had been sketched in part by Friedrich
himself; and the diggings and terracings of the Hill-side were just
beginning, when he quitted for the Last War. "April 14th, 1745,"
while he lay in those perilous enigmatic circumstances at Neisse
with Pandours and devouring bugbears round him, "the foundation-
stone was laid" (Knobelsdorf being architect, once more, as in the
old Reinsberg case): and the work, which had been steadily
proceeding while the Master struggled in those dangerous battles
and adventures far away from it, was in good forwardness at his
return. An object of cheerful interest to him; prophetic of calmer
years ahead.
It was not till May, 1747, that the formal occupation took place:
"Mayday, 1747," he had a grand House-heating, or "First Dinner, of
200 covers: and May 19th-20th was the first night of his sleeping
there." For the next Forty Years, especially as years advanced, he
spent the most of his days and nights in this little Mansion;
which became more and more his favorite retreat, whenever the
noises and scenic etiquettes were not inexorable. "SANS-SOUCI;"
which we may translate "No-Bother." A busy place this too, but of
the quiet kind; and more a home to him than any of the Three fine
Palaces (ultimately Four), which lay always waiting for him in the
neighborhood. Berlin and Charlottenburg are about twenty miles off;
Potsdam, which, like the other two, is rather consummate among
Palaces, lies leftwise in front of him within a short mile. And at
length, to RIGHT hand, in a similar distance and direction, came
the "NEUE SCHLOSS" (New Palace of Potsdam), called also the "PALACE
of Sans-Souci," in distinction from the Dwelling-House, or as it
were Garden-House, which made that name so famous.
Certainly it is a significant feature of Friedrich; and discloses
the inborn proclivity he had to retirement, to study and
reflection, as the chosen element of human life. Why he fell upon
so ambitious a title for his Royal Cottage? "No-Bother" was not
practically a thing he, of all men, could consider possible in this
world: at the utmost perhaps, by good care, "LESS-Bother"!
The name, it appears, came by accident. He had prepared his Tomb,
and various Tombs, in the skirts of this new Cottage: looking at
these, as the building of them went on, he was heard to say, one
day (Spring 1746), D'Argens strolling beside him: "OUI, ALORS JE
SERAI SANS SOUCI (Once THERE, one will be out of bother)!" A saying
which was rumored of, and repeated in society, being by such a man.
Out of which rumor in society, and the evident aim of the Cottage
Royal, there was gradually born, as Venus from the froth of the
sea, this name, "Sans-Souci;"--which Friedrich adopted; and, before
the Year was out, had put upon his lintel in gold letters. So that,
by "Mayday, 1747," the name was in all men's memories; and has
continued ever since. [Preuss, i. 268, &c.; Nicolai, iii. 1200.]
Tourists know this Cottage Royal: Friedrich's "Three Rooms in it;
one of them a Library; in another, a little Alcove with an iron
Bed" (iron, without curtains; old softened HAT the usual royal
nightcap)--altogether a soldier's lodging:--all this still stands
as it did. Cheerfully looking down on its garden-terraces, stairs,
Greek statues, and against the free sky:--perhaps we may visit it
in time coming, and take a more special view. In the Years now on
hand, Friedrich, I think, did not much practically live there, only
shifted thither now and then. His chief residence is still Potsdam
Palace; and in Carnival time, that of Berlin; with Charlottenburg
for occasional festivities, especially in summer, the gardens there
being fine.
This of Sans-Souci is but portion of a wider Tendency, wider set of
endeavors on Friedrich's part, which returns upon him now that
Peace has returned: That of improving his own Domesticities, while
he labors at so many public improvements. Gazing long on that
simmering "Typhoon of Marine-stores" above mentioned, we do trace
Three great Heads of Endeavor in this Peace Period. FIRST, the
Reform of Law; which, as above hinted, is now earnestly pushed
forward again, and was brought to what was thought completion
before long. With much rumor of applause from contemporary mankind.
Concerning which we are to give some indications, were it only
dates in their order: though, as the affair turned out not to be
completed, but had to be taken up again long after, and is an
affair lying wide of British ken,--there need not, and indeed
cannot, be much said of it just now. SECONDLY, there is eager
Furthering of the Husbandries, the Commerces, Practical Arts,--
especially at present, that of Foreign Commerce, and Shipping from
the Port of Embden. Which shall have due notice. And THIRDLY, what
must be our main topic here, there is that of Improving the
Domesticities, the Household Enjoyments such as they were;--
especially definable as Renewal of the old Reinsberg Program;
attempt more strenuous than ever to realize that beautiful ideal.
Which, and the total failure of which, and the consequent quasi-
abandonment of it for time coming, are still, intrinsically and by
accident, of considerable interest to modern readers.
Curious, and in some sort touching, to observe how that old
original Life-Program still re-emerges on this King: "Something of
melodious possible in one's poor life, is not there? A Life to the
Practical Duties, yes; but to the Muses as well!"--Of Friedrich's
success in his Law-Reforms, in his Husbandries, Commerces and
Furtherances, conspicuously great as it was, there is no
possibility of making careless readers cognizant at this day.
Only by the great results--a "Prussia QUADRUPLED" in his time, and
the like--can studious readers convince themselves, in a cold and
merely statistic way. But in respect of Life to the Muses, we have
happily the means of showing that in actual vitality; in practical
struggle towards fulfillment,--and how extremely disappointing the
result was. In a word, Voltaire pays his Fifth and final Visit in
this Period; the Voltaire matter comes to its consummation. To
that, as to one of the few things which are perfectly knowable in
this Period of TEN-YEARS PEACE, and in which mankind still take
interest, we purpose mostly to devote ourselves here.
Ten years of a great King's life, ten busy years too; and nothing
visible in them, of main significance, but a crash of Author's
Quarrels, and the Crowning Visit of Voltaire? Truly yes, reader;
so it has been ordered. Innumerable high-dressed gentlemen, gods of
this lower world, are gone all to inorganic powder, no comfortable
or profitable memory to be held of them more; and this poor
Voltaire, without implement except the tongue and brain of him,--he
is still a shining object to all the populations; and they say and
symbol to me, "Tell us of him! He is the man!" Very strange indeed.
Changed times since, for dogs barking at the heels of him, and
lions roaring ahead,--for Asses of Mirepoix, for foul creatures in
high dizenment, and foul creatures who were hungry valets of the
same,--this man could hardly get the highways walked! And indeed
had to keep his eyes well open, and always have covert within
reach,--under pain of being torn to pieces, while he went about in
the flesh, or rather in the bones, poor lean being. Changed times;
within the Century last past! For indeed there was in that man what
far transcends all dizenment, and temporary potency over valets,
over legions, treasure-vaults and dim millions mostly blockhead:
a spark of Heaven's own lucency, a gleam from the Eternities (in
small measure);--which becomes extremely noticeable when the Dance
is over, when your tallow-dips and wax-lights are burnt out, and
the brawl of the night is gone to bed.
Chapter II.
PEEP AT VOLTAIRE AND HIS DIVINE EMILIE (BY CANDLELIGHT)
IN THE TIDE OF EVENTS.
Public European affairs require little remembrance; the War burning
well to leeward of us henceforth. A huge world of smoky chaos; the
special fires of it, if there be anything of fire, are all the more
clear far in the distance. Of which sort, and of which only, the
reader is to have notice. Marechal de Saxe--King Louis oftenest
personally there, to give his name and countenance to things done
--is very glorious in the Netherlands; captures, sometimes by
surprisal, place after place (beautiful surprisal of Brussels last
winter); with sieges of Antwerp, Mons, Charleroi, victoriously
following upon Brussels: and, before the end of 1746, he is close
upon Holland itself; intent on having Namur and Maestricht;
for which the poor Sea-Powers, with a handful of Austrians, fight
two Battles, and are again beaten both times. [1. Battle of
Roucoux, 11th October, 1746; Prince Karl commanding, English taking
mainly the stress of fight;--Saxe having already outwitted poor
Karl, and got Namur. 2. Battle of Lawfelt, or Lauffeld, called also
of VAL, 2d July, 1747; Royal Highness of Cumberland commanding (and
taking most of the stress; Ligonier made prisoner, &c.),--Dutch
fighting ill, and Bathyani and his Austrians hardly in the fire at
all.] A glorious, ever-victorious Marechal; and has an Army very
"high-toned," in more than one sense: indeed, I think, one of the
loudest-toned Armies ever on the field before. Loud not with well-
served Artillery alone, but with play-actor Thunder-barrels (always
an itinerant Theatre attends), with gasconading talk, with orgies,
debaucheries,--busy service of the Devil, AND pleasant
consciousness that we are Heaven's masterpiece, and are in perfect
readiness to die at any moment;--our ELASTICITY and agility ("ELAN"
as we call it) well kept up, in that manner, for the time being.
Hungarian Majesty, contrary to hope, neglects the Netherlands,
"Holland and England, for their own sake, will manage there!"--and
directs all her resources, and her lately Anti-Prussian Armies
(General Browne leading them) upon Italy, as upon the grand
interest now. Little to the comfort of the Sea-Powers.
But Hungarian Majesty is decided to cut in upon the French and
Spaniards, in that fine Country,--who had been triumphing too much
of late; Maillebois and Senor de Gages doing their mutual exploits
(though given to quarrel); Don Philip wintering in Milan even
(1745-1746); and the King of Sardinia getting into French
courses again.
Strong cuts her Hungarian Majesty does inflict, on the Italian
side; tumbles Infant Philip out of Milan and his Carnival gayeties,
in plenty of hurry; besieges Genoa, Marquis Botta d'Adorno (our old
acquaintance Botta) her siege-captain, a native of this region;
brings back the wavering Sardinian Majesty; captures Genoa, and
much else. Captures Genoa, we say,--had not Botta been too rigorous
on his countrymen, and provoked a revolt again, Revolt of Genoa,
which proved difficult to settle. In fine, Hungarian Majesty has,
in the course of this year 1746, with aid of the reconfirmed
Sardinian Majesty, satisfactorily beaten the French and Spaniards.
Has--after two murderous Battles gained over the Maillebois-Gages
people--driven both French and Spaniards into corners, Maillebois
altogether home again across the Var;--nay has descended in actual
Invasion upon France itself. And, before New-year's day, 1747,
General Browne is busy besieging Antibes, aided by English Seventy-
fours; so that "sixty French Battalions" have to hurry home, from
winter-quarters, towards those Provencal Countries; and Marechal de
Belleisle, who commands there, has his hands full. Triumphant
enough her Hungarian Majesty, in Italy; while in the Netherlands,
the poor Sea-Powers have met with no encouragement from the Fates
or her. ["Battle of Piacenza" (Prince Lichtenstein, with whom is
Browne, VERSUS Gages and Maillebois), 16th June, 1746 (ADELUNG,
v. 427); "Battle of Rottofreddo" (Botta chief Austrian there, and
our old friend Barenklau getting killed there), 12th August, 1746
(IB. 462); whereupon, 7th SEPTEMBER, Genoa (which had declared
itself Anti-Austrian latterly, not without cause, and brought the
tug of War into those parts) is coerced by Botta to open its gates,
on grievous terms (IB. 484-489); so that, NOVEMBER 30th, Browne, no
Bourbon Army now on the field, enters Provence (crosses the Var,
that day), and tries Antibes: 5th-11th DECEMBER, Popular Revolt in
Genoa, and Expulsion of proud Botta and his Austrians
(IB. 518-523); upon which surprising event (which could not be
mended during the remainder of the War), Browne's enterprise became
impossible. See Buonamici, Histoire de la derniere
Revolution de Genes; Adelung, v. 516; vi. 31, &c. &c.]
All which the reader may keep imagining at his convenience;--but
will be glad rather, for the present, to go with us for an actual
look at M. de Voltaire and the divine Emilie, whom we have not seen
for a long time. Not much has happened in the interim; one or two
things only which it can concern us to know;--scattered fragments
of memorial, on the way thus far:--
1. M. DE VOLTAIRE HAS, IN 1745, MADE WAY AT COURT. Divine Emilie
picked up her Voltaire from that fine Diplomatic course, and went
home with him out of our sight, in the end of 1743; the Diplomatic
career gradually declaring itself barred to him thenceforth.
Since which, nevertheless, he has had his successes otherwise,
especially in his old Literary course: on the whole, brighter
sunshine than usual, though never without tempestuous clouds
attending. Goes about, with his divine Emilie, now wearing browner
and leaner, both of them; and takes the good and evil of life,
mostly in a quiet manner; sensible that afternoon is come.
The thrice-famous Pompadour, who had been known to him in the
Chrysalis state, did not forget him on becoming Head-Butterfly of
the Universe. By her help, one long wish of his soul was gratified,
and did not hunger or thirst any more. Some uncertain footing at
Court, namely, was at length vouchsafed him:--uncertain; for the
Most Christian Majesty always rather shuddered under those
carbuncle eyes, under that voice "sombre and majestious," with such
turns lying in it:--some uncertain footing at Court; and from the
beginning of 1745, his luck, in the Court spheres, began to mount
in a wonderful and world-evident manner. On grounds tragically
silly, as he thought them. On the Dauphin's Wedding,--a Termagant's
Infanta coming hither as Dauphiness, at this time,--there needed to
be Court-shows, Dramaticules, Transparencies, Feasts of Lanterns,
or I know not what. Voltaire was the chosen man; Voltaire and
Rameau (readers have heard of RAMEAU'S NEPHEW, and musical readers
still esteem Rameau) did their feat; we may think with what
perfection, with what splendor of reward. Alas, and the feat done
was, to one of the parties, so unspeakably contemptible!
Voltaire pensively surveying Life, brushes the sounding strings;
and hums to himself, the carbuncle eyes carrying in them almost
something of wet:--
"MON Henri Quatre ET MA Zaire,
ET MON AMERICAIN Alzire,
NE M'ONT VALU JAMAIS UN SEUL REGARD DU ROI;
J'AVAIS MILLE ENNEMIS AVEC TRES PEU DE GLOIRE:
LES HONNEURS ET LES BIENS PLEUVENT ENFIN SUR MOI
POUR UN FARCE DE LA FOIRE."
["My HENRI QUATRE, my ZAIRE, my ALZIRE [high works very many],
could never purchase me a single glance of the King; I had
multitudes of enemies, and very little fame:--honors and riches
rain on me, at last, for a Farce of the Fair" ( OEuvres,
ii. 151).
The "Farce" (which by no means CALLED itself such) was PRINCESSE DE
NAVARRE ( OEuvres, lxxiii. 251): first acted
23d February, 1745, Day of the Wedding. Gentlemanship of the
Chamber thereupon (which Voltaire, by permission, sold, shortly
after, for 2,500 pounds, with titles retained), and appointment as
Historiographer Royal. Poor Dauphiness did not live long; Louis
XVI.'s Mother was a SECOND Wife, Saxon-Polish Majesty's Daughter.]
Yes, my friend; it is a considerable ass, this world; by no means
the Perfectly Wise put at the top of it (as one could wish), and
the Perfectly Foolish at the bottom. Witness--nay, witness Psyche
Pompadour herself, is not she an emblem! Take your luck without
criticism; luck good and bad visits all.
2. AND GOT INTO THE ACADEMY NEXT YEAR, IN CONSEQUENCE. In 1746, the
Academy itself, Pompadour favoring, is made willing; Voltaire sees
himself among the Forty: soul, on that side too, be at ease, and
hunger not nor thirst anymore. ["May 9th, 1746, Voltaire is
received at the Academy; and makes a very fine Discourse" (BARBIER,
ii. 488). OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiii. 355,
385, and i. 97.] This highest of felicities could not be achieved
without an ugly accompaniment from the surrounding Populace.
Desfontaines is dead, safe down in Sodom; but wants not for a
successor, for a whole Doggery of such. Who are all awake, and
giving tongue on this occasion. There is M. Roi the "Poet," as he
was then reckoned; jingling Roi, who concocts satirical calumnies;
who collects old ones, reprints the same,--and sends Travenol, an
Opera-Fiddler, to vend them. From which sprang a Lawsuit, PROCES-
TRAVENOL, of famous melancholy sort. As Voltaire had rather the
habit of such sad melancholy Lawsuits, we will pause on this of
Travenol for a moment:--
3. SUMMARY OF TRAVENOL LAWSUIT. "Monday, 9th May, 1746, was the Day
or reception at the Academy; reception and fruition, thrice-savory
to Voltaire. But what an explosion of the Doggeries, before, during
and after that event! Voltaire had tried to be prudent, too. He had
been corresponding with Popes, with Cardinals; and, in a fine
frank-looking way, capturing their suffrages:--not by lying, which
in general he wishes to avoid, but by speaking half the truth;
in short, by advancing, in a dexterous, diplomatic way, the
uncloven foot, in those Vatican precincts. And had got the Holy
Father's own suffrage for MAHOMET (think of that, you Ass of
Mirepoix!), among other cases that might rise. When this seat among
the Forty fell vacant, his very first measure--mark it, Orthodox
reader--was a Letter to the Chief Jesuit, Father Latour, Head of
one's old College of Louis le Grand. A Letter of fine filial tenor:
'My excellent old Schoolmasters, to whom I owe everything;
the representatives of learning, of decorum, of frugality and
modest human virtue:--in what contrast to the obscure Doggeries
poaching about in the street-gutters, and flying at the peaceable
passenger!' [In Voltairiana, ou Eloges Amphigouriques,
&c. (Paris, 1748), i. 150-160, the LETTER itself,
"Paris, 7th February, 1746;" omitted (without need or real cause on
any side) in the common Collections of OEuvres de
Voltaire. ] Which captivated Father Latour; and made
matters smooth on that side; so that even the ANCIEN DE MIREPOIX
said nothing, this time: What could he say? No cloven foot visible,
and the Authorities strong.
"Voltaire had started as Candidate with these judicious
preliminaries. Voltaire was elected, as we saw; fine Discourse,
9th May; and on the Official side all things comfortable. But, in
the mean while, the Doggeries, as natural, seeing the thing now
likely, had risen to a never-imagined pitch; and had filled Paris,
and, to Voltaire's excruciated sense, the Universe, with their
howlings and their hyena-laughter, with their pasquils, satires,
old and new. So that Voltaire could not stand it; and, in evil
hour, rushed downstairs upon them; seized one poor dog, Travenol,
unknown to him as Fiddler or otherwise; pinioned Dog Travenol, with
pincers, by the ears, him for one;--proper Police-pincers, for we
are now well at Court;--and had a momentary joy! And, alas, this
was not the right dog; this, we say, was Travenol a Fiddler at the
Opera, who, except the street-noises, knew nothing of Voltaire;
much less had the least pique at him; but had taken to hawking
certain Pasquils (Jingler Roi's COLLECTION, it appears), to turn a
desirable penny by them.
"And mistakes were made in the Affair Travenol,--old FATHER
Travenol haled to prison, instead of Son,--by the Lieutenant of
Police and his people. And Voltaire took the high-hand method
(being well at Court):--and thereupon hungry Advocates took up Dog
Travenol and his pincered ears: 'Serene Judges of the Chatelet,
Most Christian Populace of Paris, did you ever see a Dog so
pincered by an Academical Gentleman before, merely for being
hungry?' And Voltaire, getting madder and madder, appealed to the
Academy (which would not interfere); filed Criminal Informations;
appealed to the Chatelet, to the Courts above and to the Courts
below; and, for almost a year, there went on the 'PROCES-TRAVENOL:'
[About Mayday, 1746, Seizure of Travenol; Pleadings are in vigor
August, 1746; not done April, 1747. In Voltairiana, ii. 141-206, Pleadings, &c., copiously given; and most of
the original Libels, in different parts of that sad Book (compiled
by Travenol's Advocate, a very sad fellow himself): see also
OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiii. 355 n., 385 n.;
IB. i. 97; BARBIER, ii. 487. All in a very jumbled, dateless, vague
and incorrect condition.] Olympian Jove in distressed circumstances
VERSUS a hungry Dog who had eaten dirty puddings. Paris, in all its
Saloons and Literary Coffee-houses (figure the ANTRE DE PROCOPE, on
Publication nights!), had, monthly or so, the exquisite malign
banquet; and grinned over the Law Pleadings: what Magazine Serial
of our day can be so interesting to the emptiest mind!
"Lasted, I find, for above a year. From Spring, 1746, till towards
Autumn, 1747: Voltaire's feelings being--Haha, so exquisite, all
the while!--Well, reader, I can judge how amusing it was to high
and low. And yet Phoebus Apollo going about as mere Cowherd of
Admetus, and exposed to amuse the populace by his duels with dogs
that have bitten him? It is certain Voltaire was a fool, not to be
more cautious of getting into gutter-quarrels; not to have a
thicker skin, in fact."
PROCES-TRAVENOL escorting one's Triumphal Entry; what an adjunct!
Always so: always in your utmost radiance of sunshine a shadow;
and in your softest outburst of Lydian or Spheral symphonies
something of eating Care! Then too, in the Court-circle itself, "is
Trajan pleased," or are all things well? Readers have heard of that
"TRAJAN EST-IL CONTENT?" It occurred Winter, 1745 (27th November,
1745, a date worth marking), while things were still in the flush
of early hope. That evening, our TEMPLE DE LA GLOIRE (Temple of
Glory) had just been acted for the first time, in honor of him we
may call "Trajan," returning from a "Fontenoy and Seven Cities
captured:" [Seven of them; or even eight of a kind: Tournay, Ghent,
Bruges, Nieuport, Dendermond, Ath, Ostend; and nothing lost but
Cape Breton and one's Codfishery.]--
"Reviens, divin Trajan, vainqueur doux et terrible;
Le monde est mon rival, tous les coeurs sont a toi;
Mais est-il un coeur plus sensible,
Et qui t'adore plus que moi?"
[TEMPLE DE LA GLOIRE, Acte iv. ( OEuvres,
xii. 328).]
"Return, divine Trajan, conqueror sweet and terrible;
The world is my rival, all hearts are thine;
But is there a heart more loving,
Or that adores thee more than I?"
An allegoric Dramatic Piece; naturally very admirable at
Versailles. Issuing radiant from Fall of the Curtain, Voltaire had
the farther honor to see his Majesty pass out; Majesty escorted by
Richelieu, one's old friend in a sense: "Is Trajan pleased?"
whispered Voltaire to his Richelieu; overheard by Trajan,--who
answered in words nothing, but in a visible glance of the eyes did
answer, "Impertinent Lackey!"--Trajan being a man unready with
speech; and disliking trouble with the people whom he paid for
keeping his boots in polish. O my winged Voltaire, to what dunghill
Bubbly-Jocks (COQS D'INDE) you do stoop with homage, constrained by
their appearance of mere size!--
Evidently no perfect footing at Court, after all. And then the
Pompadour, could she, Head-Butterfly of the Universe, be an anchor
that would hold, if gales rose? Rather she is herself somewhat of a
gale, of a continual liability to gales; unstable as the wind!
Voltaire did his best to be useful, as Court Poet, as director of
Private Theatricals;--above all, to soothe, to flatter Pompadour;
and never neglected this evident duty. But, by degrees, the envious
Lackey-people made cabals; turned the Divine Butterfly into
comparative indifference for Voltaire; into preference of a
Crebillon's poor faded Pieces: "Suitabler these, Madame, for the
Private Theatricals of a Most Christian Majesty." Think what a
stab; crueler than daggers through one's heart: "Crebillon?"
M. de Voltaire said nothing; looked nothing, in those sacred
circles; and never ceased outwardly his worship, and assiduous
tuning, of the Pompadour: but he felt--as only Phoebus Apollo in
the like case can! "Away!" growled he to himself, when this
atrocity had culminated. And, in effect, is, since the end of 1746
or so, pretty much withdrawn from the Versailles Olympus; and has
set, privately in the distance (now at Cirey, now at Paris, in our
PETIT PALAIS there), with his whole will and fire, to do
Crebillon's dead Dramas into living oues of his own. Dead CATILINA
of Crebillon into ROME SAUVEE of Voltaire, and the other samples of
dead into living,--that stupid old Crebillon himself and the whole
Universe may judge, and even Pompadour feel a remorse!--Readers
shall fancy these things; and that the world is coming back to its
old poor drab color with M. de Voltaire; his divine Emilie and he
rubbing along on the old confused terms. One face-to-face peep of
them readers shall now have; and that is to be enough, or more
than enough:--
VOLTAIRE AND THE DIVINE EMILIE APPEAR SUDDENLY, ONE NIGHT,
AT SCEAUX.
About the middle of August, 1747, King Friedrich, I find, was at
home;--not in his new SANS-SOUCI by any means, but running to and
fro; busy with his Musterings, "grand review, and mimic attack on
Bornstadt, near Berlin;" INVALIDEN-HAUS (Military Hospital) getting
built; Silesian Reviews just ahead; and, for the present, much
festivity and moving about, to Charlottenburg, to Berlin and the
different Palaces; Wilhelmina, "August 15th," having come to see
him; of which fine visit, especially of Wilhelmina's thoughts on
it,--why have the envious Fates left us nothing!
While all this is astir in Berlin and neighborhood, there is, among
the innumerable other visits in this world, one going on near
Paris, in the Mansion or Palace of Sceaux, which has by chance
become memorable. A visit by Voltaire and his divine Emilie, direct
from Paris, I suppose, and rather on the sudden. Which has had the
luck to have a LETTER written on it, by one of those rare
creatures, a seeing Witness, who can make others see and believe.
The seeing Witness is little Madame de Staal (by no means Necker's
Daughter, but a much cleverer), known as one of the sharpest female
heads; she from the spot reports it to Madame du Deffand, who also
is known to readers. There is such a glimpse afforded here into the
actuality of old things and remarkable human creatures, that
Friedrich himself would be happy to read the Letter.
Duchesse du Maine, Lady of Sceaux, is a sublime old personage, with
whom and with whose high ways and magnificent hospitalities at
Sceaux, at Anet and elsewhere, Voltaire had been familiar for long
years past. [In OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiii.
434 n, x. 8, &c., "Clog." and others represent THIS Visit as having
been to Anet,--though the record otherwise is express.]
This Duchess, grand-daughter of the great Conde, now a dowager for
ten years, and herself turned of seventy, has been a notable figure
in French History this great while: a living fragment of Louis le
Grand, as it were. Was wedded to Louis's "Legitimated"
Illegitimate, the Duc du Maine; was in trouble with the Regent
d'Orleans about Alberoni-Cellamare conspiracies (1718), Regent
having stript her lmsband of his high legitimatures and dignities,
with little ceremony; which led her to conspire a good deal, at one
time. [DUC DU MAINE with COMTE DE TOULOUSE were products of Louis
XIV. and Madame de Montespan:--"legitimated" by Papa's fiat in
1673, while still only young children; DISlegitimated again by
Regent d'Orleans, autumn, 1718; grand scene, "guards drawn out" and
the like, on this occasion (BARBIER, i. 8-11, ii. 181); futile
Conspiracies with Alberoni thereupon; arrest of Duchess and Duke
(29th December, 1718), and closure of that poor business. Duc du
Maine died 1736; Toulouse next year; ages, each about sixty-five.
"Duc de Penthievre," Egalite's father-in-law, was Toulouse's son;
Maine has left a famous Dowager, whom we see. Nothing more of
notable about the one or the other.] She was never very beautiful;
but had a world of grace and witty intelligence; and knew a
Voltaire when she saw him. Was the soul of courtesy and benignity,
though proud enough, and carrying her head at its due height;
and was always very charming, in her lofty gracious way, to
mankind. Interesting to all, were it only as a living fragment of
the Grand Epoch,--kind of French Fulness of Time, when the world
was at length blessed with a Louis Quatorze, and Ne-plus-ultra of a
Gentleman determined to do the handsome thing in this world. She is
much frequented by high people, especially if of a Literary or
Historical turn. President Henault (of the ABREGE CHRONOLOGIQUE,
the well-frilled, accurately powdered, most correct old legal
gentleman) is one of her adherents; Voltaire is another, that may
stand for many: there is an old Marquis de St. Aulaire, whom she
calls "MON VIEUX BERGER (my old shepherd," that is to say,
sweetheart or flame of love); [BARBIER, ii. 87; see ib. (i. 8-11;
ii. 181, 436; &c.) for many notices of her affairs and her.] there
is a most learned President de Mesmes, and others we have heard of,
but do not wish to know. Little De Staal was at one time this fine
Duchess's maid; but has far outgrown all that, a favorite guest of
the Duchess's instead; holds now mainly by Madame du Deffand (not
yet fallen blind),--and is well turned of fifty, and known for one
of the shrewdest little souls in the world, at the time she writes.
Her Letter is addressed "TO MADAME DU DEFFAND, at Paris;" most
free-flowing female Letter; of many pages, runs on, day after day,
for a fortnight or so;--only Excerpts of it introducible here:--
"SCEAUX, TUESDAY, 15th AUGUST, 1747. ... Madame du Chatelet and
Voltaire, who had announced themselves as for to-day, and whom
nobody had heard of otherwise, made their appearance yesternight,
near midnight; like two Spectres, with an odor of embalmment about
them, as if just out of their tombs. We were rising from table;
the Spectres, however, were hungry ones: they needed supper;
and what is more, beds, which were not ready. The Housekeeper
(CONCIERGE), who had gone to bed, rose in great haste.
Gaya [amiable gentleman, conceivable, not known], who had offered
his apartment for pressing cases, was obliged to yield it in this
emergency: he flitted with as much precipitation and displeasure as
an army surprised in its camp; leaving a part of his baggage in the
enemy's hands. Voltaire thought the lodging excellent, but that did
not at all console Gaya.
"As to the Lady, her bed turns out not to have been well made;
they have had to put her in a new place to-day. Observe, she made
that bed herself, no servants being up, and had found a blemish or
DEFAUT of"--word wanting: who knows what?--"in the mattresses;
which I believe hurt her exact mind, more than her not very
delicate body. She has got, in the interim, an apartment promised
to somebody else; and she will have to leave it again on Friday or
Saturday, and go into that of Marechal de Maillebois, who leaves at
that time."
--Yes; Maillebois in the body, O reader. This is he, with the old
ape-face renewed by paint, whom we once saw marching with an "Army
of Redemption," haggling in the Passes about Eger, unable to redeem
Belleisle; marching and haggling, more lately, with a "Middle-Rhine
Army," and the like non-effect; since which, fighting his best in
Italy,--pushed home last winter, with Browne's bayonets in his
back; Belleisle succeeding him in dealing with Browne.
Belleisle, and the "Revolt of Genoa" (fatal to Browne's Invasion of
us), and the Defence of Genoa and the mutual worryings thereabout,
are going on at a great rate,--and there is terrible news out of
those Savoy Passes, while Maillebois is here. Concerning which by
and by. He is grandson of the renowned Colbert, this Maillebois.
A Field-Marshal evidently extant, you perceive, in those vanished
times: is to make room for Madame on Friday, says our little De
Staal; and take leave of us,--if for good, so much the better!
"He came at the time we did, with his daughter and grand-daughter:
the one is pretty, the other ugly and dreary [l'UNE, L'AUTRE;
no saying which, in such important case! Madame la Marechale, the
mother and grandmother, I think must be dead. Not beautiful she,
nor very benignant, "UNE TRES-MECHANTE FEMME, very cat-witted
woman," says Barbier; "shrieked like a devil, at Court, upon the
Cardinal," about that old ARMY-OF-REDEMPTION business; but all her
noise did nothing]. [Barbier, ii, 332 ("November, 1742").]--
M. le Marechal has hunted here with his dogs, in these fine autumn
woods and glades; chased a bit of a stag, and caught a poor doe's
fawn: that was all that could be got there.
"Our new Guests will make better sport: they are going to have
their Comedy acted again [Comedy of THE EXCHANGE, much an
entertainment with them]: Vanture [conceivable, not known] is to do
the Count de Boursoufle (DE BLISTER or DE WINDBAG); you will not
say this is a hit, any more than Madame du Chatelet's doing the
Hon. Miss Piggery (LA COCHONNIERE), who ought to be fat and short."
[L'ECHANGE, The Exchange, or WHEN SHALL I GET NARRIED? Farce in
three acts: OEuvres, x. 167-222; used to be played at
Cirey and elsewhere (see plenty of details upon it, exact or not
quite so, IB. 7-9).]--Little De Staal then abruptly breaks off, to
ask about her Correspondent's health, and her Correspondent's
friend old President Henault's health; touches on those "grumblings
and discords in the Army (TRACASSERIES DE L'ARMEE)," which are
making such astir; how M. d'Argenson, our fine War-Minister, man of
talent amid blockheads, will manage them; and suddenly exclaims:
"O my queen, what curious animals men and women are! I laugh at
their manoeuvres, the days when I have slept well; if I have missed
sleep, I could kill them. These changes of temper prove that I do
not break off kind. Let us mock other people, and let other people
mock us; it is well done on both sides.--[Poor little De Staal:
to what a posture have things come with you, in that fast-rotting
Epoch, of Hypocrisies becoming all insolvent!]
"WEDNESDAY, 16th. Our Ghosts do not show themselves by daylight.
They appeared yesterday at ten in the evening; I do not think we
shall see them sooner to-day: the one is engaged in writing high
feats [SIECLE DE LOUIS XV., or what at last became such]; the other
in commenting Newton. They will neither play nor walk: they are, in
fact, equivalent to ZEROS in a society where their learned writings
are of no significance.--[Pauses, without notice given: for some
hours, perhaps days; then resuming:] Nay, worse still:
their apparition to-night has produced a vehement declamation on
one of our little social diversions here, the game of CAVAGNOLE:
["Kind of BIRIBI," it would appear; in the height of fashion then.]
it was continued and maintained," on the part of Madame du
Chatelet, you guess, "in a tone which is altogether unheard of in
this place; and was endured," on the part of Serene Highness, "with
a moderation not less surprising. But what is unendurable is my
babble"-- And herewith our nimble little woman hops off again into
the general field of things; and gossips largely, How are you, my
queen, Whither are you going, Whither we; That the Maillebois
people are away, and also the Villeneuves, if anybody knew them
now; then how the Estillacs, to the number of four, are coming
to-morrow; and Cousin Soquence, for all his hunting, can catch
nothing; and it is a continual coming and going; and how Boursoufle
is to be played, and a Dame Dufour is just come, who will do a
character. Rubrics, vanished Shadows, nearly all those high Dames
and Gentlemen; LA PAUVRE Saint-Pierre, "eaten with gout," who is
she? "Still drags herself about, as well as she can; but not with
me, for I never go by land, and she seems to have the hydrophobia,
when I take to the water. [Thread of date is gone! I almost think
we must have got to Saturday by this time:--or perhaps it is only
Thursday, and Maillebois off prematurely, to be out of the way of
the Farce? Little De Staal takes no notice; but continues
gossiping rapidly:]
"Yesterday Madame du Chatelet got into her third lodging: she could
not any longer endure the one she had chosen. There was noise in
it, smoke without fire:--privately meseems, a little the emblem of
herself! As to noise, it was not by night that it incommoded her,
she told me, but by day, when she was in the thick of her work:
it deranges her ideas. She is busy reviewing her PRINCIPLES"--
NEWTON'S PRINCIPIA, no doubt, but De Staal will understand it only
as PRINCIPES, Principles in general:--"it is an exercise she
repeats every year, without which the Principles might get away,
and perhaps go so far she would never find them again [You
satirical little gypsy!]. Her head, like enough, is a kind of
lock-up for them, rather than a birthplace, or natural home:
and that is a case for watching carefully lest they get away.
She prefers the high air of this occupation to every kind of
amusement, and persists in not showing herself till after dark.
Voltaire has produced some gallant verses [unknown to Editors]
which help off a little the bad effect of such unusual behavior.
"SUNDAY, 27th. I told you on Thursday [no, you did n't; you only
meant to tell] that our Spectres were going on the morrow, and that
the Piece was to be played that evening: all this has been done.
I cannot give you much of Boursoufle [done by one Vanture].
Mademoiselle Piggery [DE LA COCHONNIERE, Madame du Chatelet
herself] executed so perfectly the extravagance of her part, that I
own it gave me real pleasure. But Vanture only put his own fatuity
into the character of Boursoufle, which wanted more: he played
naturally in a Piece where all requires to be forced, like the
subject of it."--What a pity none of us has read this fine Farce!
"One Paris did the part of MUSCADIN (Little Coxcomb), which name
represents his character: in short, it can be said the Farce was
well given. The Author ennobled it by a Prologue for the Occasion;
which he acted very well, along with Madame Dufour as BARBE
(Governess Barbara),--who, but for this brilliant action, could not
have put up with merely being Governess to Piggery. And, in fact,
she disdained the simplicity of dress which her part required;--as
did the chief actress," Du Chatelet herself (age now forty-one);
"who, in playing PIGGERY, preferred the interests of her own face
to those of the Piece, and made her entry in all the splendor and
elegant equipments of a Court Lady,"--her "PRINCIPLES," though the
key is turned upon them, not unlike jumping out of window, one
would say! "She had a crow to pluck [MAILLE A PARTIR, "clasp to
open," which is better] with Voltaire on this point: but she is
sovereign, and he is slave. I am very sorry at their going, though
I was worn out with doing her multifarious errands all the time she
was here.
"WEDNESDAY, 30th. M. le President [Henault] has been asked hither;
and he is to bring you, my Queen! Tried all I could to hinder;
but they would not be put off. If your health and disposition do
suit, it will be charming. In any case, I have got you a good
apartment: it is the one that Madame du Chatelet had seized upon,
after an exact review of all the Mansion. There will be a little
less furniture than she had put in it; Madame had pillaged all her
previous apartments to equip this one. We found about seven tables
in it, for one item: she needs them of all sizes; immense, to
spread out her papers upon; solid, to support her NECESSAIRE;
slighter, for her nicknacks (POMPONS), for her jewels. And this
fine arrangement did not save her from an accident like that of
Philip II., when, after spending all the night in writing, he got
his despatches drowned by the oversetting of an ink-bottle.
The Lady did not pretend to imitate the moderation of that Prince;
at any rate, he was only writing on affairs of state; and the thing
they blotted, on this occasion, was Algebra, much more difficult to
clean up again.
"This subject ought to be exhausted: one word more, and then it
does end. The day after their departure, I receive a Letter of four
pages, and a Note enclosed, which announces dreadful burly-burly:
M. de Voltaire has mislaid his Farce, forgotten to get back the
parts, and lost his Prologue: I am to find all that again
[excessively tremulous about his Manuscripts, M. de Voltaire;
of such value are they, of such danger to him; there is LA PUCELLE,
for example,--enough to hang a man, were it surreptitiously
launched forth in print!]--I am to send him the Prologue instantly,
not by post, because they would copy it; to keep the parts for fear
of the same accident, and to lock up the Piece 'under a hundred
keys.' I should have thought one padlock sufficient for this
treasure! I have duly executed his orders." [ Madame de
Graffigny (Paris, 1820), pp. 283-291.]
And herewith EXPLICIT DE STAAL. Scene closes: EXEUNT OMNES; are off
to Paris or Versailles again; to Luneville and the Court of
Stanislaus again,--where also adventures await them, which will be
heard of!
"Figure to yourself," says some other Eye-witness, "a lean Lady,
with big arms and long legs; small head, and countenance losing
itself in a cloudery of head-dress; cocked nose [RETROUSSE, say
you? Very slightly, then; quite an unobjectionable nose!] and pair
of small greenish eyes; complexion tawny, and mouth too big:
this was the divine Emilie, whom Voltaire celebrates to the stars.
Loaded to extravagance with ribbons, laces, face-patches, jewels
and female ornaments; determined to be sumptuous in spite of
Economics, and pretty in spite of Nature:" Pooh, it is an enemy's
hand that paints! "And then by her side," continues he, "the thin
long figure of Voltaire, that Anatomy of an Apollo, affecting
worship of her," [From Rodenbeck (quoting somebody, whom I have
surely seen in French; whom Rodenbeck tries to name, as he could
have done, but curiously without success), i. 179.]--yes, that thin
long Gentleman, with high red-heeled shoes, and the daintiest
polite attitudes and paces; in superfine coat, laced hat under arm;
nose and under-lip ever more like coalescing (owing to decay of
teeth), but two eyes shining on you like carbuncles; and in the
ringing voice, such touches of speech when you apply for it!
Thus they at Sceaux and elsewhere; walking their Life-minuet,
making their entrances and exits.
One thing is lamentable: the relation with Madame is not now a
flourishing one, or capable again of being: "Does not love me as he
did, the wretch!" thinks Madame always;--yet sticks by him, were it
but in the form of blister. They had been to Luneville, Spring,
1747; happy dull place, within reach of Cirey; far from Versailles
and its cabals. They went again, 1748, in a kind of permanent way;
Titular Stanislaus, an opulent dawdling creature, much liking to
have them; and Father Menou, his Jesuit,--who is always in quarrel
with the Titular Mistress,--thinking to displace HER (as you,
gradually discover), and promote the Du Chatelet to that improper
dignity! In which he had not the least success, says Voltaire;
but got "two women on his ears instead of one." It was not to be
Stanislaus's mistress; nor a TITULAR one at all, but a real, that
Madame was fated in this dull happy place! Idle readers know the
story only too well;--concerning which, admit this other Fraction
and no more:--
"Stanislaus, as a Titular King, cannot do without some kind of
Titular Army,--were it only to blare about as Life-guard, and beat
kettle-drums on occasion. A certain tall high-sniffing M. de St.
Lambert, a young Lorrainer of long pedigree and light purse, had
just taken refuge in this Life-guard [Summer 1748, or so], I know
not whether as Captain or Lieutenant, just come from the
Netherlands Wars: of grave stiff manners; for the rest, a good-
looking young fellow; thought to have some poetic genius, even;--
who is precious, surely, in such an out-of-the-way place.
Welcome to Voltaire, to Madame still more. Alas, readers know the
History,--on which we must not dwell. Madame, a brown geometric
Lady, age now forty-two, with a Great Man who has scandalously
ceased to love her, casts her eye upon St. Lambert: 'Yes, you would
be the shoeing-horn, Monsieur, if one had time, you fine florid
fellow, hardly yet into your thirties--' And tries him with a
little coquetry; I always think, perhaps in this view chiefly?
And then, at any rate, as he responded, the thing itself became so
interesting: 'Our Ulysses-bow, we can still bend it, then, aha!
'And is not that a pretty stag withal, worth bringing down;
florid, just entering his thirties, and with the susceptibilities
of genius! Voltaire was not blind, could he have helped it,--had he
been tremulously alive to help it. 'Your Verses to her, my St.
Lambert,--ah, Tibullus never did the like of them. Yes, to you are
the roses, my fine young friend, to me are the thorns:' thus sings
Voltaire in response; [ OEuvres, xvii. 223
(EPITRE A M. DE ST. LAMBERT, 1749); &c. &c. In Memoires
sur Voltaire par Longchamp et Wagniere (Paris, 1826),
ii. 229 et seq., details enough and more.] perhaps not thinking it
would go so far. And it went,--alas, it went to all lengths,
mentionable and not mentionable: and M. le Marquis had to be coaxed
home in the Spring of 1749,--still earlier it had been suitabler;--
and in September ensuing, M. de St. Lambert looking his demurest,
there is an important lying-in to be transacted! Newton's PRINCIPIA
is, by that time, drawing diligently to its close;--complicated by
such far abstruser Problems, not of the geometric sort! Poor little
lean brown woman, what a Life, after all; what an End of a Life!"--
WAR-PASSAGES IN 1747.
The War, since Friedrich got out of it, does not abate in
animosity, nor want for bloodshed, battle and sieging; but offers
little now memorable. March 18th, 1747, a ghastly Phantasm of a
Congress, "Congress of Breda," which had for some months been
attempting Peace, and was never able to get into conference, or
sit in its chairs except for moments, flew away altogether;
[In September, 1746, had got together; but would not take life, on
trying and again trying, and fell forgotten: February, 1747, again
gleams up into hope: March 18th and the following days, vanishes
for good (ADELUNG, v. 50; vi. 6, 62).] and left the War perhaps
angrier than ever, more hopelessly stupid than ever.
Except, indeed, that resources are failing; money running low in
France, Parlements beginning to murmur, and among the Population
generally a feeling that glory is excellent, but will not make the
national pot boil. Perhaps all this will be more effective than
Congresses of Breda? Here are the few Notes worth giving:
APRIL 23d-30th, 1747, THE FRENCH INVADE HOLLAND; WHEREUPON,
SUDDENLY, A STADTHOLDER THERE. "After Fontenoy there has been much
sieging and capturing in that Netherlands Country, a series of
successes gloriously delightful to Marechal de Saxe and the French
Nation: likewise (in bar of said sieging, in futile attempt to bar
it) a Battle of Roucoux, October, 1746; with victory, or quasi-
victory, to Saxe, at least with prostration to the opposite part.
And farther on, there is a Battle of Lauffeld coming, 2d July,
1747; with similar results; frustration evident, retreat evident,
victory not much to speak of. And in this gloriously delightful
manner Saxe and the French Nation have proceeded, till in fact the
Netherlands Territory with all strongholds, except Maestricht
alone, was theirs,--and they decided on attacking the Dutch
Republic itself. And (17th April, 1747) actually broke in upon the
frontier Fortresses of Zealand; found the same dry-rotten
everywhere; and took them, Fortress after Fortress, at the rate of
a cannon salvo each: 'Ye magnanimous Dutch, see what you have got
by not sitting still, as recommended!' To the horror and terror of
the poor Zealanders and general Dutch Population. Who shrieked to
England for help;--and were, on the very instant, furnished with a
modicum of Seventy-fours (Dutch Courier returning by the same);
which landed the Courier April 23d, and put Walcheren in a state of
security. [Adelung, vi. 105, 125-134.]
"Whereupon the Dutch Population turned round on its Governors, with
a growl of indignation, spreading ever wider, waxing ever higher:
'Scandalous laggards, is this your mode of governing a free
Republic? Freedom to let the State go to dry-rot, and become the
laughing-stock of mankind. To provide for your own paltry kindred
in the State-employments; to palaver grandly with all comers;
and publish melodious Despatches of Van Hoey? Had not Britannic
Majesty, for his dear Daughter's sake, come to the rescue in this
crisis, where had we been? We demand a Stadtholder again; our
glorious Nassau Orange, to keep some bridle on you!' And actually,
in this way, Populus and Plebs, by general turning out into the
streets, in a gloomily indignant manner, which threatens to become
vociferous and dangerous,--cowed the Heads of the Republic into
choosing the said Prince, with Princess and Family, as Stadtholder,
High-Admiral, High-Everything and Supreme of the Republic.
Hereditary, no less, and punctually perpetual; Princess and Family
to share in it. In which happy state (ripened into Kingship
latterly) they continue to this day. A result painfully surprising
to Most Christian Majesty; gratifying to Britannic proportionately,
or more;--and indeed beneficial towards abating dry-rot and
melodious palaver in that poor Land of the Free. Consummated, by
popular outbreak of vociferation, in the different Provinces, in
about a week from April 23d, when those helpful Seventy-fours hove
in sight. Stadtholdership had been in abeyance for forty-five
years. [Since our Dutch William's death, 1702.] The new Stadtholder
did his best; could not, in the short life granted him, do nearly
enough.--Next year there was a SECOND Dutch outbreak, or general
turning into the streets; of much more violent character; in regard
to glaringly unjust Excises and Taxations, and to 'instant
dismissal of your Excise-Farmers,' as the special first item.
[Adelung, vi. 364 et seq.; Raumer, 182-193 ("March-September,
1748"); or, in Chesterfield's Works,
Dayrolles's Letters to Chesterfield: somewhat unintelligent and
unintelligible, both Raumer and he.] Which salutary object being
accomplished (new Stadtholder well aiding, in a valiant and
judicious manner), there has no third dose of that dangerous remedy
been needed since.
"JULY 19th, FATE OF CHEVALIER DE BELLEISLE. At the Fortress of
Exilles, in one of those Passes of the Savoy Alps,--Pass of Col di
Sieta, memorable to the French Soldier ever since,--there occurred
a lamentable thing;" doubtless much talked of at Sceaux while
Voltaire was there. "The Revolt of Genoa (popular outburst, and
expulsion of our poor friend Botta and his Austrians, then a famous
thing, and a rarer than now) having suddenly recalled the
victorious General Browne from his Siege of Antibes and Invasion of
Provence,--Marechal Duc de Belleisle, well reinforced and now
become 'Army of Italy' in general, followed steadfastly for
'Defence of Genoa' against indignant Botta, Browne and Company.
For defence of Genoa; nay for attack on Turin, which would have
been 'defence' in Genoa and everywhere,--had the captious Spaniard
consented to co-operate. Captious Spaniard would not; Couriers to
Madrid, to Paris thereupon, and much time lost;--till, at the
eleventh hour, came consent from Paris, 'Try it by yourself, then!'
Belleisle tries it; at least his Brother does. His Brother, the
Chevalier, is to force that Pass of Exilles; a terrible fiery
business, but the backbone of the whole adventure: in which, if the
Chevalier can succeed, he too is to be Marechal de France.
Forward, therefore, climb the Alpine stairs again; snatch me that
Fort of Exilles.
"And so, July 19th, 1747, the Chevalier comes in sight of the
Place; scans a little the frowning buttresses, bristly with guns;
the dumb Alps, to right and left, looking down on him and it.
Chevalier de Belleisle judges that, however difficult, it can and
must be possible to French valor; and storms in upon it, huge and
furious (20,000, or if needful 30,000);--but is torn into mere
wreck, and hideous recoil; rallies, snatches a standard, 'We must
take it or die,'--and dies, does not take it; falls shot on the
rampart, 'pulling at the palisades with his own hands,' nay some
say 'with his teeth,' when the last moments came. Within one hour,
he has lost 4,000 men; and himself and his Brother's Enterprise lie
ended there. [Voltaire, xxv. 221 et seq. (SIECLE DE LOUIS QUINZE,
c. 22); Adelung, vi 174.] Fancy his poor Brother's feelings, who
much loved him! The discords about War-matters (TRACASSERIES DE
L'ARMEE) were a topic at Sceaux lately, as De Staal intimated.
'Why starve our Italian Enterprises; heaping every resource upon
the Netherlands and Saxe?' Diligent Defence of Genoa (chiefly by
flourishing of swords on the part of France, for the Austrians were
not yet ready) is henceforth all the Italian War there is; and this
explosion at Exilles may fitly be finis to it here. Let us only say
that Infant Philip did, when the Peace came, get a bit of Apanage
(Parma and Piacenza or some such thing, contemptibly small to the
Maternal heart), and that all things else lapsed to their pristine
state, MINUS only the waste and ruin there had been."
JULY 12th-SEPTEMBER 18th: SIEGE OF THE CHIEF DUTCH FORTRESS.
"Unexpected Siege of Bergen-op-Zoom; two months of intense
excitement to the Dutch Patriots and Cause-of-Liberty Gazetteers,
as indifferent and totally dead as it has now become. Marechal de
Saxe, after his victory at Lauffeld, 2d July, did not besiege
Maestricht, as had been the universal expectation; but shot off an
efficient lieutenant of his, one Lowendahl, in due force, privately
ready, to overwhelm Bergen-op-Zoom with sudden Siege, while he
himself lay between the beaten enemy and it. Bergen is the heart,
of Holland, key of the Scheld, and quite otherwise important than
Maestricht. 'Coehorn's masterpiece!' exclaim the Gazetteers;
'Impregnable, you may depend!' 'We shall see,' answered Saxe,
answered Lowendahl the Dane (who also became Marechal by this
business); and after a great deal of furious assaulting and
battering, took the Place September 18th, before daylight," by a
kind of surprisal or quasi-storm;--"the Commandant, one Cronstrom,
a brave old Swede, age towards ninety, not being of very wakeful
nature! 'Did as well as could be expected of him,' said the Court-
Martial sitting on his case, and forbore to shoot the poor old man.
[Adelung, vi. 184, 206;--"for Cronstrom," if any one is curious,
"see Schlotzer, Schwedische Biographie,
ii. 252 (in voce)."] A sore stroke, this of Bergen, to Britannic
Majesty and the Friends of Liberty; who nevertheless refuse to
be discouraged."
DECEMBER 25th, RUSSIANS IN BEHALF OF HUMAN LIBERTY. "March of
36,000 Russians from the City of Moscow, this day; on a very long
journey, in the hoary Christmas weather! Most, Christian Majesty is
ruinously short of money; Britannic Majesty has still credit, and a
voting Parliament, but, owing to French influence on the Continent,
can get no recruits to hire. Gradually driven upon Russia, in such
stress, Britannic Majesty has this year hired for himself a 35,000
Russians; 30,000 regular foot; 4,000 ditto horse, and 1,000
Cossacks;--uncommonly cheap, only 150,000 pounds the lot, not, 4
pounds per head by the year. And, in spite of many difficulties and
hagglings, they actually get on march, from Moscow, 25th December,
1747; and creep on, all Winter, through the frozen peats
wildernesses, through Lithuania, Poland, towards Bohmen, Mahren:
are to appear in the Rhine Countries, joined by certain Austrians;
and astonish mankind next Spring. Their Captain is one Repnin,
Prince Repnin, afterwards famous enough in those Polish Countries;"
--which is now the one point interesting to us in the thing.
"Their Captain WAS, first, to be Lacy, old Marshal Lacy;
then, failing Lacy, 'Why not General Keith?'--but proves to be
Repnin, after much hustling and intriguing:" Repnin, not Keith,
that is the interesting point.
"Such march of the Russians, on behalf of Human Liberty, in pay of
Britannic Majesty, is a surprising fact; and considerably
discomposes the French. Who bestir themselves in Sweden and
elsewhere against Russia and it: with no result,--except perhaps
the incidental one, of getting our esteemed old friend Guy Dickens,
now Sir Guy, dismissed from Stockholm, and we hope put on half-pay
on his return home." [Adelung, vi. 250, 302:--Sir Guy, not yet
invalided, "went to Russia," and other errands.]
MARSHAL KEITH COMES TO PRUSSIA (September, 1747).
"Much hustling and intriguing," it appears, in regard to the
Captaincy of these Russians. Concerning which there is no word
worthy to be said,--except for one reason only, That it finished
off the connection of General Keith with Russia. That this of
seeing Repnin, his junior and inferior, preferred to him, was, of
many disgusts, the last drop which made the cup run over;--and led
the said General to fling it from him, and seek new fields of
employment. From Hamburg, having got so far, he addresses himself,
1st September, 1747, to Friedrich, with offer of service; who
grasps eagerly at the offer: "Feldmarschall your rank; income,
$1,200 a year; income, welcome, all suitable:"--and, October 28th,
Feldmarschall Keith finishes, at Potsdam, a long Letter to his
Brother Lord Marischal, in these words, worth giving, as those of a
very clear-eyed sound observer of men and things:--
"I have now the honor, and, which is still more, the pleasure, of
being with the King at Potsdam; where he ordered me to come," 17th
current, "two days after he declared me Fieldmarshal: Where I have
the honor to dine and sup with him almost every day. He has more
wit than I have wit to tell you; speaks solidly and knowingly on
all kinds of subjects; and I am much mistaken if, with the
experience of Four Campaigns, he is not the best Officer of his
Army. He has several persons," Rothenburg, Winterfeld, Swedish
Rudenskjold (just about departing), not to speak of D'Argens and
the French, "with whom he lives in almost the familiarity of a
friend,--but has no favorite;--and shows a natural politeness for
everybody who is about him. For one who has been four days about
his person, you will say I pretend to know a great deal of his
character: but what I tell you, you may depend upon. With more
time, I shall know as much of him as he will let me know;--and all
his Ministry knows no more." [Varnhagen van Ense, Leben
des Feldmarschalls Jakob Keith (Berlin, 1844,) p. 100;
Adelung, vi. 244.]
A notable acquisition to Friedrich;--and to the two Keiths withal;
for Friedrich attached both of them to his Court and service, after
their unlucky wanderings; and took to them both, in no common
degree. As will abundantly appear.
While that Russia Corps was marching out of Moscow, Cocceji and his
Commissions report from Pommern, that the Pomeranian Law-stables
are completely clear; that the New Courts have, for many months
back, been in work, and are now, at the end of the Year, fairly
abreast with it, according to program;--have "decided of Old-
Pending Lawsuits 2,400, all that there were (one of them 200 years
old, and filling seventy Volumes); and of the 994 New ones, 772;
not one Lawsuit remaining over from the previous Year." A highly
gratifying bit of news to his Majesty; who answers emphatically,
EUGE! and directs that the Law Hercules proceed now to the other
Provinces,--to the Kur-Mark, now, and Berlin itself,--with his
salutary industries. Naming him "Grand Chancellor," moreover;
that is to say, under a new title, Head of Prussian Law,--old
Arnim, "Minister of Justice," having shown himself disaffected to
Law-Reform, and got rebuked in consequence, and sulkily gone into
private life. [Stenzel, iv. 321; Ranke, iii. 389.]
In February of this Year, 1747, Friedrich had something like a
stroke of apoplexy; "sank suddenly motionless, one day," and sat
insensible, perhaps for half an hour: to the terror and horror of
those about him. Hemiplegia, he calls it; rush of blood to the
head;--probably indigestion, or gouty humors, exasperated by over-
fatigue. Which occasioned great rumor in the world; and at Paris,
to Voltaire's horror, reports of his death. He himself made light
of the matter: [To Voltaire, 22d February, 1747 ( OEuvres
de Frederic, xxii. 164); see IB. 164 n.] and it did
not prove to have been important; was never followed by anything
similar through his long life; and produced no change in his often-
wavering health, or in his habits, which were always steady. He is
writing MEMOIRS; settling "Colonies" (on his waste moors);
improving Harbors. Waiting when this European War will end;
politely deaf to the offers of Britannic Majesty as to taking the
least personal share in it.
Chapter III.
EUROPEAN WAR FALLS DONE: TREATY OF AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.
The preparations for Campaign 1748 were on a larger scale than
ever. Britannic Subsidies, a New Parliament being of willing mind,
are opulent to a degree; 192,000 men, 60,000 Austrians for one
item, shall be in the Netherlands;--coupled with this remarkable
new clause, "And they are to be there in fact, and not on paper
only," and with a tare-and-tret of 30 or 40 per cent, as too often
heretofore! Holland, under its new Stadtholder, is stanch of
purpose, if of nothing else. The 35,000 Russians, tramping along,
are actually dawning over the horizon, towards Teutschland,--King
Friedrich standing to arms along his Silesian Border, vigilant
"Cordon of Troops all the way," in watch of such questionable
transit. [In ADELUNG, vi. 110, 143, 167, 399 ("April, 1747-August,
1748"), account of the more and more visible ill-will of the
Czarina: "jealousy" about Sweden, about Dantzig, Poland, &c. &c.]
Britannic Majesty and Parliament seem resolute to try, once more,
to the utmost, the power of the breeches-pocket in defending this
sacred Cause of Liberty so called.
Breeches-pocket MINUS most other requisites: alas, with such
methods as you have, what can come of it? Royal Highness of
Cumberland is a valiant man, knowing of War little more than the
White Horse of Hanover does;--certain of ruin again, at the hands
of Marechal de Saxe. So think many, and have their dismal
misgivings. "Saxe having eaten Bergen-op-Zoom before our eyes, what
can withstand the teeth of Saxe?" In fact, there remains only
Maestricht, of considerable; and then Holland is as good as his!
As for King Louis, glory, with funds running out, and the pot
ceasing to boil, has lost its charm to an afflicted France and him.
King Louis's wishes are known, this long while;--and Ligonier,
generously dismissed by him after Lauffeld, has brought express
word to that effect, and outline of the modest terms proposed in
one's hour of victory, with pot ceasing to boil.
On a sudden, too, "March 18th,"--wintry blasts and hailstorms still
raging,--Marechal de Saxe, regardless of Domestic Hunger, took the
field, stronger than ever. Manoeuvred about; bewildering the mind
of Royal Highness and the Stadtholder ("Will he besiege Breda?
Will he do this, will he do that?")--poor Highness and poor
Stadtholder; who "did not agree well together," and had not the
half of their forces come in, not to speak of handling them when
come! Bewilderment of these two once completed, Marechal de Saxe
made "a beautiful march upon Maestricht; " and, April 15th, opened
trenches, a very Vesuvius of artillery, before that place;
Royal Highness gazing into it, in a doleful manner, from the
adjacent steeple-tops. Royal Highness, valor's self, has to admit:
"Such an outlook; not half of us got together! The 60,000 Austrians
are but 30,000; the-- In fact, you will have to make Peace, what
else?" [His Letters, in Coxe's Pelham
("March 29th-April 2d, 1748"), i. 405-410.] Nothing else, as has
been evident to practical Official People (especially to frugal
Pelham, Chesterfield and other leading heads) for these two months
last past.
In a word, those 35,000 Russians are still far away under the
horizon, when thoughts of a new Congress, "Congress of Aix-la-
Chapelle," are busying the public mind: "Mere moonshine again?"
"Something real this time?"--And on and from March 17th (Lord
Sandwich first on the ground, and Robinson from Vienna coming to
help), the actual Congress begins assembling there. April 24th, the
Congress gets actually to business; very intent on doing it;
at least the three main parties, France, England, Holland, are
supremely so. Who, finding, for five diligent days, nothing but
haggle and objection on the part of the others, did by themselves
meet under cloud of night, "night of April 29th-30th;" and--bring
the Preliminaries to perfection. And have them signed before
daybreak; which is, in effect, signing, or at least fixing as
certain, the Treaty itself; so that Armistice can ensue
straightway, and the War essentially end.
A fixed thing; the Purseholders having signed. On the safe rear of
which, your recipient Subsidiary Parties can argue and protest (as
the Empress-Queen and her Kaunitz vehemently did, to great
lengths), and gradually come in and finish. Which, in the course of
the next six months, they all did, Empress-Queen and Excellency
Kaunitz not excepted. And so, October 18th, 1748, all details
being, in the interim, either got settled, or got flung into
corners as unsettleable (mostly the latter),--Treaty itself was
signed by everybody; and there was "Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle."
Upon which, except to remark transiently how inconclusive a
conclusion it was, mere end of war because your powder is run out,
mere truce till you gather breath and gunpowder again, we will
spend no word in this place. [Complete details in ADELUNG, vi.
225-409: "October, 1747," Ligonier returning, and first rumor of
new Congress (226); "17th March, 1748," Sandwich come (323);
"April 29th-30th," meet under cloud of night (326); Kaunitz
protesting (339): "2d August," Russians to halt and turn (397);
"are over into the Oberpfalz, magazines ahead at Nurnberg;" in
September, get to Bohmen again, and winter there: "18th October,
1748," Treaty finished (398, 409); Treaty itself given (IB.,
Beylage, 44). See Gentleman's Magazine, and
OLD NEWSPAPERS of 1748; Coxe's Pelham, ii.
7-41, i. 366-416.]
"The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle was done in a hurry and a huddle;
greatly to Maria Theresa's disgust. 'Why not go on with your
expenditures, ye Sea-Powers? Can money and life be spent better?
I have yet conquered next to nothing for the Cause of Liberty and
myself!' But the Sea-Powers were tired of it; the Dutch especially,
who had been hoisted with such difficulty, tended strongly, New
Stadtholder notwithstanding, to plump down again into stable
equilibrium on the broad-bottom principle. Huddle up the matter;
end it, well if you can; any way end it. The Treaty contained many
Articles, now become forgettable to mankind. There is only One
Article, and the Want of One, which shall concern us in this place.
The One Article is: guarantee by all the European Powers to
Friedrich's Treaty of Dresden. Punctually got as bargained for,--
French especially willing; Britannic Majesty perhaps a little
languid, but his Ministers positive on the point; so that
Friedrioh's Envoy had not much difficulty at Aix. And now,
Friedrich's Ownership of Silesia recognized by all the Powers to be
final and unquestionable, surely nothing more is wanted? Nothing,--
except keeping of this solemn stipulation by all the Powers. How it
was kept by some of them; in what sense some of them are keeping it
even now, we shall see by and by.
"The Want of an Article was, on the part of England, concerning
JENKINS'S EAR. There is not the least conclusion arrived at on that
important Spanish-English Question; blind beginning of all these
conflagrations; and which, in its meaning to the somnambulant
Nation, is so immense. No notice taken of it; huddled together,
some hasty shovelful or two of diplomatic ashes cast on it, 'As
good as extinct, you see!' Left smoking, when all the rest is
quenched. Considerable feeling there was, on this point, in the
heart of the poor somnambulant English Nation; much dumb or semi-
articulate growling on such a Peace-Treaty: 'We have arrived
nowhere, then, by all this fighting, and squandering, and perilous
stumbling among the chimney-pots? Spain (on its own showing) owed
us 95,000 pounds. Spain's debt to Hanover; yes, you take care of
that; some old sixpenny matter, which nobody ever heard of before:
and of Spain's huge debt to England you drop no hint; of the 95,000
pounds, clear money, due by Spain; or of one's liberty to navigate
the High Seas, none!' [PROTEST OF ENGLISH MERCHANTS AGAINST, &c.
("May, 1748") given in ADELUNG, vi. 353-358.] A Peace the reverse
of applauded in England; though the wiser Somnambulants, much more
Pitt and Friends, who are broad awake on these German points, may
well be thankful to see such a War end on any terms."
--Well, surely this old admitted 95,000 pounds should have been
paid! And, to a moral certainty, Robinson and Sandwich must have
made demand of it from the Spaniard. But there is no getting old
Debts in, especially from that quarter. "King Friedrich [let me
interrupt, for a moment, with this poor composite Note] is trying
in Spain even now,--ever since 1746, when Termagant's Husband died,
and a new King came,--for payment of old debt: Two old Debts; quite
tolerably just both of them. King Friedrich keeps trying till 1749,
three years in all: and, in the end, gets nothing whatever.
Nothing,--except some Merino Rams in the interim," gift from the
new King of Spain, I can suppose, which proved extremely useful in
our Wool Industries; "and, from the same polite Ferdinand VI., a
Porcelain Vase filled with Spanish Snuff." That was all!--
King Friedrich, let me note farther, is getting decidedly deep into
snuff; holds by SPANIOL (a dry yellow pungency, analogous to Lundy-
foot or Irish-Blackguard, known to snuffy readers); always by
Spaniol, we say; and more especially "the kind used by her Majesty
of Spain," the now Dowager Termagant: [Orders this kind, from his
Ambassador in Paris, "30th September, 1743:" the earliest extant
trace of his snuffing habits (Preuss, i. 409).--NOTE FARTHER (if
interesting): "The Termagant still lasted as Dowager, consuming
SPANIOL at least, for near twenty years (died 11th July, 1766);
--the new King, Ferdinand VI., was her STEPson, not her son;
he went mad, poor soul, and died (10th August, 1759): upon which,
Carlos of Naples, our own 'Baby Carlos' that once was, succeeded in
Spain, 'King Carlos III. of Spain;' leaving his Son, a young boy
under tutelage, as King of the Two Sicilies (King 'Ferdinand IV.,'
who did not die, but had his difficulties, till 1825). Don Philip,
who had fought so in those Savoy Passes, and got the bit of
Parmesan Country, died 1765, the year before Mamma."] which, also,
is to be remembered. Dryasdust adds, in his sweetly consecutive
way: "Friedrich was very expensive about his snuff-boxes; wore two
big rich boxes in his pockets; five or six stood on tables about;
and more than a hundred in store, coming out by turns for variety.
The cheapest of them cost 300 pounds (2,000 thalers); he had them
as high as 1,500 pounds. At his death, there were found 130 of
various values: they were the substance of all the jewelry he had;
besides these snuff-boxes, two gold watches only, and a very small
modicum of rings. Had yearly for personal Expenditure 1,200,000
thalers [180,000 pounds of Civil List, as we should say];
SPENT 33,000 pounds of it, and yearly gave the rest away in Royal
beneficences, aid of burnt Villages, inundated Provinces, and
multifarious PATER-PATRIAE objects." [Preuss, i. 409, 410,]--
In regard to JENKINS'S EAR, my Constitutional Friend continues:--
"SILESIA and JENKINS'S EAR, we often say, were the two bits of
realities in this enormous hurly-burly of imaginations, insane
ambitions, and zeros and negative quantities. Negative Belleisle
goes home, not with Germany cut in Four and put under guidance of
the First Nation of the Universe (so extremely fit for guiding self
and neighbors), but with the First Nation itself reduced almost to
wallet and staff; bankrupt, beggared-- 'Yes,' it answers, 'in all
but glory! Have not we gained Fontenoy, Roucoux, Lauffeld;
and strong-places innumerable [mostly in a state of dry-rot]?
Did men ever fight as we Frenchmen; combining it with theatrical
entertainments, too! Sublime France, First Nation of the Universe,
will try another flight (ESSOR), were she breathed a little!'
"Yes, a new ESSOR ere long, and perhaps surprise herself and
mankind! The losses of men, money and resource, under this mad
empty Enterprise of Belleisle's, were enormous, palpable to France
and all mortals: but perhaps these were trifling to the replacement
of them by such GLOIRE as there had been. A GLOIRE of plunging into
War on no cause at all; and with an issue consisting only of foul
gases of extreme levity. Messieurs are of confessed promptitude to
fight; and their talent for it, in some kinds, is very great
indeed. But this treating of battle and slaughter, of death,
judgment and eternity, as light play-house matters; this of rising
into such transcendency of valor, as to snap your fingers in the
face of the Almighty Maker; this, Messieurs, give me leave to say
so, is a thing that will conduct you and your PREMIERE NATION to
the Devil, if you do not alter it. Inevitable, I tell you!
Your road lies that way, then? Good morning, Messieurs; let me
still hope, Not!"
Diplomatist Kaunitz gained his first glories in this Congress of
Aix; which are still great in the eyes of some. Age now thirty-
seven; a native of these Western parts; but henceforth, by degrees
ever more, the shining star and guide of Austrian Policies down
almost to our own New Epoch. As, unluckily, he will concern us not
a little, in time coming, let us read this Note, as foreshadow of
the man and his doings:--
"The glory of Count, ultimately Prince, von Kaunitz-Rietberg, is
great in Diplomatic Circles of the past Century. 'The greatest of
Diplomatists,' they all say;--and surely it is reckoned something
to become the greatest in your line. Farther than this, to the
readers of these times, Kaunitz-Rietberg's glory does not go.
A great character, great wisdom, lasting great results to his
Country, readers do not trace in Kaunitz's diplomacies,--only
temporary great results, or what he and the by-standers thought
such, to Kaunitz himself. He was the Supreme Jove, we perceive, in
that extinct Olympus; and regards with sublime pity, not unallied
to contempt, all other diplomatic beings. A man sparing of words,
sparing even of looks; will hardly lift his eyelids for your sake,
--will lift perhaps his chin, in slight monosyllabic fashion, and
stalk superlatively through the other door. King of the vanished
Shadows. A determined hater of Fresh Air; rode under glass cover,
on the finest day; made the very Empress shut her windows when he
came to audience; fed, cautiously daring, on boiled capons: more I
remember not,--except also that he would suffer no mention of the
word Death by any mortal. [Hormayr, OEsterreichischer
Plutarch, iv. (3tes), 231-283.] A most high-sniffing,
fantastic, slightly insolent shadow-king;--ruled, in his time, the
now vanished Olympus; and had the difficult glory (defective only
in result) of uniting France and Austria AGAINST the poor old Sea-
Power milk-cows, for the purpose of recovering Silesia from
Friedrich, a few years hence!"--These are wondrous results;
hidden under the horizon, not very far either; and will astonish
Britannic Majesty and all readers, in a few years.
MARECHAL DE SAXE PAYS FRIEDRICH A VISIT.
In Summer, 1749, Marechal de Saxe, the other shiny figure of this
mad Business of the Netherlands, paid Friedrich a visit; had the
honor to be entertained by him three days (July 13th-16th, 1749),
in his Royal Cottage of Sans-Souci seemingly, in his choicest
manner. Curiosity, which is now nothing like so vivid as it then
was, would be glad to listen a little, in this meeting of two Suns,
or of one Sun and one immense Tar-Barrel, or Atmospheric Meteor
really of shining nature, and taken for a Sun. But the Books are
silent; not the least detail, or hint, or feature granted us.
Only Fancy;--and this of Smelfungus, by way of long farewell to one
of the parties:--
... "It was at Tongres, or in head-quarters near it, 10th October,
1746,--Battle expected on the morrow [Battle of ROUCOUX, over
towards Herstal, which we used to know],- that M. Favart, Saxe's
Playwright and Theatre-Director, gave out in cheerful doggerel on
fall of the Curtain, the announcement:--
'Demain nous donnerons relache,
Quoique le Directeur s'en fache,
Vous voir combleroit nos desirs:
'To-morrow is no Play,
To the Manager's regret,
Whose sole study is to keep you happy:
On doit ceder tout a la gloire;
Vous ne songes qu'a la victoire,
Nous ne songeons qu'a vos plaisires'
[ Biographic Universelle, xiv. 209, ? Favart;
Espagnac, ii. 162.]
But, you being bent upon victory,
What can he do?--
Day after to-morrow,'--
'Day after to-morrow,' added he, taking the o5cial tone, (in honor
of your laurels [gained already, since you resolve on gaining
them], we will have the honor of presenting'--such and such a gay
Farce, to as many of you as remain alive! which was received with
gay clapping of hands: admirable to the Universe, at least to the
Parisian UNIVERS and oneself. Such a prodigality of light daring is
in these French gentlemen, skilfully tickled by the Marechal;
who uses this Playwright, among other implements, for keeping them
at the proper pitch. Was there ever seen such radiancy of valor?
Very radiant indeed;--yet, it seems to me, gone somewhat into the
phosphorescent kind; shining in the dark, as fish will do when
rotten! War has actually its serious character; nor is Death a
farcical transaction, however high your genius may go. But what
then? it is the Marechal's trade to keep these poor people at the
cutting pitch, on any terms that will hold for the moment.
"I know not which was the most dissolute Army ever seen in the
world; but this of Saxe's was very dissolute. Playwright Favart had
withal a beautiful clever Wife,--upon whom the courtships,
munificent blandishments, threatenings and utmost endeavors of
Marechal de Saxe (in his character of goat-footed Satyr) could not
produce the least impression. For a whole year, not the least.
Whereupon the Goat-footed had to get LETTRE DE CACHET for her;
had to--in fact, produce the brutalest Adventure that is known of
him, even in this brutal kind. Poor Favart, rushing about in
despair, not permitted to run him through the belly, and die with
his Wife undishonored, had to console himself, he and she; and do
agreeable theatricalities for a living as heretofore. Let us not
speak of it!
"Of Saxe's Generalship, which is now a thing fallen pretty much
into oblivion, I have no authority to speak. He had much wild
natural ingenuity in him; cunning rapid whirls of contrivance;
and gained Three Battles and very many Sieges, amid the loudest
clapping of hands that could well be. He had perfect intrepidity;
not to be flurried by any amount of peril or confusion; looked on
that English Column, advancing at Fontenoy with its FUE INFERNAL,
steadily through his perspective; chewing his leaden bullet:
'Going to beat me, then? Well--!' Nobody needed to be braver.
He had great good-nature too, though of hot temper and so full of
multifarious veracities; a substratum of inarticulate good sense
withal, and much magnanimity run wild, or run to seed. A big-
limbed, swashing, perpendicular kind of fellow; haughty of face,
but jolly too; with a big, not ugly strut;--captivating to the
French Nation, and fit God of War (fitter than 'Dalhousie,' I am
sure!) for that susceptive People. Understood their Army also, what
it was then and there; and how, by theatricals and otherwise, to
get a great deal of fire out of it. Great deal of fire;--whether by
gradual conflagration or not, on the road to ruin or not; how, he
did not care. In respect of military 'fame' so called, he had the
great advantage of fighting always against bad Generals, sometimes
against the very worst. To his fame an advantage; to himself and
his real worth, far the reverse. Had he fallen in with a Friedrich,
even with a Browne or a Traun, there might have been different news
got. Friedrich (who was never stingy in such matters, except to his
own Generals, where it might do hurt) is profuse in his eulogies,
in his admirations of Saxe; amiable to see, and not insincere;
but which, perhaps, practically do not mean very much.
"It is certain the French Army reaped no profit from its experience
of Marechal de Saxe, and the high theatricalities, ornamental
blackguardisms, and ridicule of death and life. In the long-run a
graver face would have been of better augury. King Friedrich's
soldiers, one observes, on the eve of battle, settle their bits of
worldly business; and wind up, many of them, with a hoarse whisper
of prayer. Oliver Cromwell's soldiers did so, Gustaf Adolf's; in
fact, I think all good soldiers: Roucoux with a Prince Karl,
Lauffeld with a Duke of Cumberland; you gain your Roucoux, your
Lauffeld, Human Stupidity permitting: but one day you fall in with
Human Intelligence, in an extremely grave form;--aud your 'ELAN,'
elastic outburst, the quickest in Nature, what becomes of it?
Wait but another decade; we shall see what an Army this has grown.
Cupidity, dishonesty, floundering stupidity, indiscipline,
mistrust; and an elastic outspurt (ELAN) turned often enough iuto
the form of SAUVE-QUI-PEUT!
"M. le Marechal survived Aix-la-Chapelle little more than two
years. Lived at Chambord, on the Loire, an Ex-Royal Palace; in such
splendor as never was. Went down in a rose-pink cloud, as if of
perfect felicity; of glory that would last forever,--which it has
by no means done. He made despatch; escaped, in this world, the
Nemesis, which often waits on what they call 'fame.' By diligent
service of the Devil, in ways not worth specifying, he saw himself,
November 21st, 1750, flung prostrate suddenly: 'Putrid fever!'
gloom the doctors ominously to one another: and, November 30th, the
Devil (I am afraid it was he, though clad in roseate effulgence,
and melodious exceedingly) carried him home on those kind terms, as
from a Universe all of Opera. 'Wait till 1759,--till 1789!'
murmured the Devil to himself."
TRAGIC NEWS, THAT CONCERN US, OF VOLTAIRE AND OTHERS.
About two months after those Saxe-Friedrich hospitalities at
Sans-Souci, Voltaire, writing, late at night, from the hospitable
Palace of Titular Stanislaus, has these words, to his trusted
D'Argental:--
LUNEVILLE, 4th SEPTEMBER, 1749. ... "Madame du Chatelet, this
night, while scribbling over her NEWTON, felt a little twinge;
she called a waiting-maid, who had only time to hold out her apron,
and catch a little Girl, whom they carried to its cradle.
The Mother arranged her papers, went to bed; and the whole of that
(TOUT CELA) is sleeping like a dormouse, at the hour I write to
you." My guardian angels, "poor I sha'n't have so easy a delivery
of my CATILINA" (my ROME SAVED, for the confusion of old Crebillon
and the cabals)! [ OEuvres, lxxiv. 57
(Voltaire to D'Argental).] ...
And then, six clays later, hear another Witness present there:--
LUNEVILLE PALACE, 10th SEPTEMBER. "For the first three or four
days, the health of the Mother appeared excellent; denoting nothing
but the weakness inseparable from her situation. The weather was
very warm. Milk-fever came, which made the heat worse. In spite of
remonstrances, she would have some iced barley-water; drank a big
glass of it;--and, some instants after, had great pain in her head;
followed by other bad symptoms." Which brought the Doctor in again,
several Doctors, hastily summoned; who, after difficulties, thought
again that all was comiug right. And so, on the sixth night, 10th
September, inquiring friends had left the sick-room hopefully, and
gone down to supper, "the rather as Madame seemed inclined to
sleep. There remained none with her but M. de St. Lambert, one of
her maids and I. M. de St. Lambert, as soon as the strangers were
gone, went forward and spoke some moments to her; but seeing her
sleepy, drew back, and sat chatting with us two. Eight or ten
minutes after, we heard a kind of rattle in the throat, intermixed
with hiccoughs: we ran to the bed; found her, senseless; raised her
to a sitting posture, tried vinaigrettes, rubbed her feet, knocked
into the palms of her hands;--all in vain; she was dead!
"Of course the supper-party burst up into her room; M. le Marquis
de Chatelet, M. de Voltaire, and the others. Profound
consternation: to tears, to cries succeeded a mournful silence.
Voltaire and St. Lambert remained the last about her bed. At length
Voltaire quitted the room; got out by the Grand Entrance, hardly
knowing which way he went. At the foot of the Outer Stairs, near a
sentry's box, he fell full length on the pavement. His lackey, who
was a step or two behind, rushed forward to raise him. At that
moment came M. de St. Lambert; who had taken the same road, and who
now hastened to help. M. de Voltaire, once on his feet again, and
recognizing who it was, said, through his tears and with the most
pathetic accent, 'AH, MON AMI, it is you that have killed her to
me!'--and then suddenly, as if starting awake, with the tone of
reproach and despair, 'EH, MON DIEU, MONSIEUR, DE QUOI VOUS
AVISIEZ-VOUS DE LUI FAIRE UN ENFANT (Good God, Sir, what put it
into your head to-- to--)!'" [Longchamp et Wagniere,
Memoires sur Voltaire, ii. 250, 251;--Longchamp
LOQUITUR.]
Poor M. de Voltaire; suddenly become widower, and flung out upon
his shifts again, at his time of life! May now wander, Ishmael-
like, whither he will, in this hard lonesome world. His grief is
overwhelming, mixed with other sharp feelings clue on the matter;
but does not last very long, in that poignant form. He will turn up
on us, in his new capacity of single-man, again brilliant enough,
within year and day.
Last Autumn, September, 1748, Wilhelmina's one Daughter, one child,
was wedded; to that young Durchlaucht of Wurtemberg, whom we saw
gallanting the little girl, to Wilhelmina's amusement, some years
ago. About the wedding, nothing; nor about the wedded life, what
would have been more curious:--no Wilhelmina now to tell us
anything; not even whether Mamma the Improper Duchess was there.
From Berlin, the Two youngest Princes, Henri and Ferdinand,
attended at Baireuth;--Mannstein, our old Russian friend, now
Prussian again, escorting them. [Seyfarth, ii. 76.] The King, too
busy, I suppose, with Silesian Reviews and the like, sends his best
wishes,--for indeed the Match was of his sanctioning and advising;
--though his wishes proved mere disappointment in the sequel.
Friedrich got no "furtherance in the Swabian-Franconian Circles,"
or favor anywhere, by means of this Durchlaucht; in the end, far
the reverse!--In a word, the happy couple rolled away to Wurtemberg
(September 26th, 1748); he twenty, she sixteen, poor young
creatures; and in years following became unhappy to a degree.
There was but one child, and it soon died. The young Serene Lady
was of airy high spirit; graceful, clever, good too, they said;
perhaps a thought too proud:--but as for her Reigning Duke, there
was seldom seen so lurid a Serenity; and it was difficult to live
beside him. A most arbitrary Herr, with glooms and whims; dim-eyed,
ambitious, voracious, and the temper of an angry mule,--very fit to
have been haltered, in a judicious manner, instead of being set to
halter others! Enough, in six or seven years time, the bright Pair
found itself grown thunderous, opaque beyond description; and (in
1759) had to split asunder for good. "Owing to the reigning Duke's
behavior," said everybody. "Has behaved so, I would run him through
the body, if we met!" said his own Brother once:--Brother Friedrich
Eugen, a Prussian General by that time, whom we shall hear of.
[Preuss, iv. 149; Michaelis, iii. 451.] What thoughts for our dear
Wilhelmina, in her latter weak years;--lapped in eternal silence,
as so much else is.
Chapter IV.
COCCEJI FINISHES THE LAW-REFORM; FRIEDRICH IS PRINTING
HIS POESIES.
In these years, Friedrich goes on victoriously with his Law-Reform;
Herculean Cocceji with Assistants, backed by Friedrich,
beneficently conquering Province after Province to him;--Kur-Mark,
Neu-Mark, Cleve (all easy, in comparison, after Pommern), and
finally Preussen itself;--to the joy and profit of the same.
Cocceji's method, so far as the Foreign on-looker can discern
across much haze, seems to be three-fold:--
1. Extirpation (painless, were it possible) of the Petti-fogger
Species; indeed, of the Attorney Species altogether: "Seek other
employments; disappear, all of you, from these precincts, under
penalty!" The Advocate himself takes charge of the suit, from
first birth of it; and sees it ended,--he knows within what limit
of time.
2. Sifting out of all incompetent Advocates, "Follow that Attorney-
Company, you; away!"--sifting out all these, and retaining in each
Court, with fees accurately settled, with character stamped sound,
or at least SOUNDEST, the number actually needed. In a milder way,
but still more strictly, Judges stupid or otherwise incompetent are
riddled out; able Judges appointed, and their salaries raised.
3. What seems to be Friedrich's own invention, what in outcome he
thinks will be the summary of all good Law-Procedure: A final
Sentence (three "instances" you can have, but the third ends it for
you) within the Year. Good, surely. A justice that intends to be
exact must front the complicacies in a resolute piercing manner,
and will not be tedious. Nay a justice that is not moderately
swift,--human hearts waiting for it, the while, in a cancerous
state, instead of hopefully following their work,--what,
comparatively, is the use of its being never so exact!--
Simple enough methods; rough and ready. Needing, in the execution,
clear human eyesight, clear human honesty,--which happen to be
present here, and without which no "method" whatever can be
executed that will really profit.
In the course of 1748, Friedrich, judging by Pommern and the other
symptoms that his enterprise was safe, struck a victorious Medal
upon it: "FRIDERICUS BORUSSORUM REX," pressing with his sceptre the
oblique Balance to a level posture; with Epigraph, "EMENDATO JURE."
[Letter to Cocceji, accompanying Copy of the Medal in Gold, "24th
June, 1748" (Seyfarth, ii. 67 n.).] And by New-year's day, 1750,
the matter was in effect completed; and "justice cheap,
expeditious, certain," a fact in all Prussian Lands.
Nay, in 1749-1751, to complete the matter, Cocceji's "Project of a
general Law-Code," PROJEKT DES CORPORIS JURIS FRIDERICIANI, came
forth in print: [Halle, 2 vols. folio (Preuss, i. 316; see IB. 315
n., as to the LAW-PROCEDURE, $c. now settled by Cocceji).] to the
admiration of mankind, at home and abroad; "the First Code
attempted since Justinian's time," say they. PROJECT translated
into all languages, and read in all countries. A poor mildewed copy
of this CODEX FRIDERICIANUS--done at Edinburgh, 1761, not said by
whom; evidently bought at least TWICE, and mostly never yet read
(nor like being read)--is known to me, for years past, in a ghastly
manner! Without the least profit to this present, or to any other
Enterprise;--though persons of name in Jurisprudence call it
meritorious in their Science; the first real attempt at a Code in
Modern times. But the truth is, this Cocceji CODEX remained a
PROJECT merely, never enacted anywhere. It was not till 1773, that
Friedrich made actual attempt to build a Law-Code and did build one
(the foundation-story of one, for his share, completed since), in
which this of Cocceji had little part. In 1773, the thing must
again be mentioned; the "Second Law-Reform," as they call it.
What we practically know from this time is, That Prussian Lawsuits,
through Friedrich's Reign, do all terminate, or push at their
utmost for terminating, within one year from birth; and that
Friedrich's fame, as a beneficent Justinian, rose high in all
Countries (strange, in Countries that had thought him a War-scourge
and Conquering Hero); strange, but undeniable; [See
Gentleman's Magazine, xx. 215-218 ("May, 1750"):
eloquent, enthusiastic LETTER, given there, "of Baron de Spon to
Chancellor D'Aguessan," on these inimitable Law Achievements.] and
that his own People, if more silently, yet in practice very gladly
indeed, welcomed his Law-Reform; and, from day to day, enjoyed the
same,--no doubt with occasional remembrance who the Donor was.
Of Friedrich's Literary works, nobody, not even Friedrich himself,
will think it necessary that we say much. But the fact is, he is
doing a great many things that way: in Prose, the MEMOIRS OF
BRANDENBURG, coming out as Papers in the Academy from time to time;
[From 1746 and onward: first published complete (after slight
revision by Voltaire), Berlin, 1751.] in Verse, very secret as yet,
the PALLADION ("exquisite Burlesque," think some), the ART OF WAR
(reckoned truly his best Piece in verse):--and wishes sometimes he
had Voltaire here to perfect him a little. This too would be one of
the practical charms of Voltaire. [Friedrich's Letter to Algarotti
( OEuvres, xviii. 66), "12th September,
1749."] For though King Friedrich knows and remembers always, that
these things, especially the Verse part, are mere amusements in
comparison, he has the creditable wish to do these well; one would
not fantasy ILL even on the Flute, if one could help it. "Why does
n't Voltaire come; as Quantz of the Flute has done?" Friedrich, now
that Voltaire has fallen widower, renews his pressings, "Why don't
you come?" Patience, your Majesty; Voltaire will come.
Nobody can wish details in this Department: but there is one thing
necessary to be mentioned, That Friedrich in these years,
1749-1752, has Printers out at Potsdam, and is Printing, "in
beautiful quarto form, with copperplates," to the extent of twelve
copies, the OEUVRES (Poetical, that is) DU PHILOSOPHE DE
SANS-SOUCI. Only twelve copies, I have heard; gift of a single copy
indicating that you are among the choicest of the chosen.
Copies have now fallen extremely rare (and are not in request at
all, with my readers or me); but there was one Copy which, or the
Mis-title of which, as OEUVRE DE "POESHIE" DU ROI MON MAITRE,
became miraculously famous in a year or two;--and is still
memorable to us all! On Voltaire's arrival, we shall hear more of
these things. Enough to say at present that the OEUVRES DU
PHILOSOPHE DE SANS-SOUCI: AU DONJON DU CHATEAU: AVEC PRIVILEGE
D'APOLLON,--"three thinnish quarto volumes, all the Poetry then on
hand,"--was finished early in 1750, before Voltaire came.
That, when Voltaire came, a revisal was undertaken, a new Edition,
with Voltaire's corrections and other changes (total suppression of
the PALLADION, for one creditable change): that this Edition was to
have been in Two Volumes; that One, accordingly, rather thicker
than the former sort, was got finished in 1752 (same TITLE, only
the new Date, and "no DONJON DU CHATEAU this time"), One Volume in
1752; after which, owing to the explosions that ensued, no Second
came, nor ever will;--and that the actual contents of that far-
famed OEUVRE DE "POESHIE" (number of volumes even) are points of
mystery to me, at this day. [Herr Preuss--in the CHRONOLOGICAL LIST
of Friedrich's Writings (a useful accurate Piece otherwise), and in
two other places where he tries--is very indistinct on this of
DONJON DU CHATEAU; and it is all but impossible to ascertain from
him WHAT, in an indisputable manner, the OEUVRE DE "POESHIE" may
have been. Here are the places for groping, if another should be
induced to try: OEuvres de Frederic, x.
(Preface, p. ix); IB. xi. (Preface, p. ix); IB. Table
Chhronologique (in what Volume this is, you cannot yet
say; seems preliminary to a GENERAL INDEX, which is infinitely
wanted, but has not yet appeared to this Editor's aid), p. 14.]
Friedrich's other employments are multifarious as those of a Land's
Husband (not inferior to his Father in that respect); and, like the
benefits of the diurnal Sun, are to be considered incessant,
innumerable and, in result to us-ward, SILENT also, impossible to
speak of in this place. From the highest pitch of State-craft
(Russian Czarina now fallen plainly hostile, and needing lynx-eyed
diplomacy ever and anon), down to that of Dredging and Fascine-work
(as at Stettin and elsewhere), of Oder-canals, of Soap-boiler
Companies, and Mulberry-and-Silk Companies; nay of ordaining Where,
and where not, the Crows are to he shot, and (owing to cattle-
murrain) No VEAL to be killed: [Seyfarth, ii. 71, 83, 81; Preuss,
Buch fur Jedermann, i. 101-109; &c.] daily
comes the tide of great and of small, and daily the punctual
Friedrich keeps abreast of it,--and Dryasdust has noted the
details, and stuffed them into blind sacks,--for forty years.
The Review seasons, I notice, go somewhat as follows. For Berlin
and neighborhood, May, or perhaps end of April (weather now bright,
and ground firm); sometimes with considerable pomp ("both Queens
out," and beautiful Female Nobilities, in "twenty-four green
tents"), and often with great complicacy of manoeuvre. In June, to
Magdeburg, round by Cleve; and home again for some days. July is
Pommern: Onward thence to Schlesien, oftenest in August;
Schlesien the last place, and generally not done with till well on
in September. But we will speak of these things, more specially,
another time. Such "Reviews," for strictness of inspection civil
and military, as probably were not seen in the world since,--or
before, except in the case of this King's Father only.
Chapter V.
STRANGERS OF NOTE COME TO BERLIN, IN 1750.
British Diplomacies, next to the Russian, cause some difficulties
in those years: of which more by and by. Early in 1748, while Aix-
la-Chapelle was starting, Ex-Exchequer Legge came to Berlin;
on some obscure object of a small Patch of Principality, hanging
loose during those Negotiations: "Could not we secure it for his
Royal Highness of Cumberland, thinks your Majesty?" Ex-Exchequer
Legge was here; [Coxe's Pelham, i. 431, &c.;
Rodenbeck, pp. 155, 160 (first audience 1st May, 1748);--recalled
22d November, Aix being over.] got handsome assurances of a general
nature; but no furtherance towards his obscure, completely
impracticable object; and went home in November following, to a new
Parliamentary Career.
And the second year after, early in 1750, came Sir Hanbury
Williams, famed London Wit of Walpole's circle, on objects which,
in the main, were equally chimerical: "King of the Romans, much
wanted;" "No Damage to your Majesty's Shipping from our British
Privateers;" and the like;--about which some notice, and not very
much, will be due farther on. Here, in his own words, is Hanbury's
Account of his First Audience:--
... "On Thursday," 16th July, 1750, "I went to Court by
appointment, at 11 A.M. The King of Prussia arrived about 12 [at
Berlin; King in from Potsdam, for one day]; and Count Podewils
immediately introduced me into the Royal closet; when I delivered
his Britannic Majesty's Letters into the King of Prussia's hands,
and made the usual compliments to him in the best manner I was
able. To which his Prussian Majesty replied, to the best of my
remembrance, as follows:--
"'I have the truest esteem for the King of Britain's person; and I
set the highest value on his friendship. I have at different times
received essential proofs of it; and I desire you would acquaint
the King your Master that I will (SIC) never forget them.' His
Prussian Majesty afterwards said something with respect to myself,
and then asked me several questions about indifferent things and
persons. He seemed to express a great deal of esteem for my Lord
Chesterfield, and a great deal of kindness for Mr. Villiers,"
useful in the Peace-of-Dresden time; "but did not once mention Lord
Hyndford or Mr. Legge,"--how singular!
"I was in the closet with his Majesty exactly five minutes and a
half. My audience done, Prussian Majesty came out into the general
room, where Foreign Ministers were waiting. He said, on stepping
in, just one word" to the Austrian Excellency; not even one to the
Russian Excellency, nor to me the Britannic; "conversed with the
French, Swedish, Danish;"--happy to be off, which I do not wonder
at; to dine with Mamma at Monbijou, among faces pleasant to him;
and return to his Businesses and Books next day. [Walpole,
George the Second, i. 449; Rodenbeck, i. 204.]
Witty Excellency Hanbury did not succeed at Berlin on the "Romish-
King Question," or otherwise; and indeed went off rather in a
hurry. But for the next six or seven years he puddles about, at a
great rate, in those Northern Courts; giving away a great deal of
money, hatching many futile expensive intrigues at Petersburg,
Warsaw (not much at Berlin, after the first trial there); and will
not be altogether avoidable to us in time coming, as one could have
wished. Besides, he is Horace Walpole's friend and select London
Wit: he contributed a good deal to the English notions about
Friedrich; and has left considerable bits of acrid testimony on
Friedrich, "clear words of an Eye-witness," men call them,--which
are still read by everybody; the said Walpole, and others, having
since printed them, in very dark condition. [In Walpole,
George the Second (i. 448-461), the Pieces which
regard Friedrich. In Sir Charles Hanbury Williams's Works
(edited by a diligent, reverential, but ignorant
gentleman, whom I could guess to be Bookseller Jeffery in person:
London, 1822, 3 vols. small 8vo) are witty Verses, and considerable
sections of Prose, relating to other persons and objects now rather
of an obsolete nature.] Brevity is much due to Hanbury and his
testimonies, since silence in the circumstances is not allowable.
Here is one Excerpt, with the necessary light for reading it:--
... It is on this Romish-King and other the like chimerical
errands, that witty Hanbury, then a much more admirable man than we
now find him, is prowling about in the German Courts, off and on,
for some ten years in all, six of them still to come. A sharp-eyed
man, of shrewish quality; given to intriguing, to spying, to
bribing; anxious to win his Diplomatic game by every method, though
the stake (as here) is oftenest zero: with fatal proclivity to
Scandal, and what in London circles he has heard called Wit.
Little or nothing of real laughter in the soul of him, at any time;
only a labored continual grin, always of malicious nature, and much
trouble and jerking about, to keep that up. Had evidently some
modicum of real intellect, of capacity for being wise; but now has
fatally devoted it nearly all to being witty, on those poor terms!
A perverse, barren, spiteful little wretch; the grin of him
generally an affliction, at this date. His Diplomatic
Correspondence I do not know. [Nothing of him is discoverable in
the State-Paper Office. Many of his Papers, it would seem, are in
the Earl of Essex's hands;--and might be of some Historical use,
not of very much, could the British Museum get possession of them.
Abundance of BACKSTAIRS History, on those Northern Courts,
especially on Petersburg, and Warsaw-Dresden,--authentic
Court-gossip, generally malicious, often not true, but never
mendacious on the part of Williams,--is one likely item.] He did a
great deal of Diplomatic business, issuing in zero, of which I have
sometimes longed to know the exact dates; seldom anything farther.
His "History of Poland," transmitted to the Right Hon. Henry Fox,
by instalments from Dresden, in 1748, is [See Hanbury's
Works, vol. iii.]--Well, I should be obliged to call
it worthier of Goody Two-Shoes than of that Right Hon. Henry, who
was a man of parts, but evidently quite a vacuum on the
Polish side!
Of Hanbury's News-Letters from Foreign Courts, four or five,
incidentally printed, are like the contents of a slop-pail;
uncomfortable to the delicate mind. Not lies on the part of
Hanbury, but foolish scandal poured into him; a man more filled
with credulous incredible scandal, evil rumors, of malfeasances by
kings and magnates, than most people known. His rumored mysteries
between poor Polish Majesty and pretty Daughter-in-law (the latter
a clever and graceful creature, Daughter of the late unfortunate
Kaiser, and a distinguished Correspondent of Friedrich's) are to be
regarded as mere poisoned wind. [See Hanbury's Works, ii. 209-240.] That "Polish Majesty gets into his dressing-
gown at two in the afternoon" (inaccessible thenceforth, poor lazy
creature), one most readily believes; but there, or pretty much
there, one's belief has to stop. The stories, in WALPOLE, on the
King of Prussia, have a grain of fact in them, twisted into huge
irrecognizable caricature in the Williams optic-machinery.
Much else one can discern to be, in essence, false altogether.
Friedrich, who could not stand that intriguing, spying, shrewish,
unfriendly kind of fellow at his Court, applied to England in not
many months hence, and got Williams sent away: ["22d January, 1751"
(MS. LIST in State-Paper Office).] on to Russia, or I forget
whither;--which did not mend the Hanbury optical-machinery on that
side. The dull, tobacco-smoking Saxon-Polish Majesty, about whom he
idly retails so many scandals, had never done him any offence.
On the whole, if anybody wanted a swim in the slop-pails of that
extinct generation, Hanbury, could he find an Editor to make him
legible, might be printed. For he really was deep in that slop-pail
or extinct-scandal department, and had heard a great many things.
Apart from that, in almost any other department,--except in so far
as he seems to DATE rather carefully,--I could not recommend him.
The Letters and Excerpts given in Walpole are definable as one
pennyworth of bread,--much ruined by such immersion, but very
harmless otherwise, could you pick it out and clean it,--to twenty
gallons of Hanbury sherris-sack, or chamber-slop. I have found
nothing that seems to be, in all points, true or probable, but
this; worth cutting out, and rendering legible, on other accounts.
Hanbury LOQUITUR (in condensed form):
"In the summer of last year, 1749, there was, somewhere in Mahren,
a great Austrian Muster or Review;" all the more interesting, as it
was believed, or known, that the Prussian methods and manoeuvres
were now to be the rule for Austria. Not much of a Review
otherwise, this of 1749; Empress-Queen and Husband not personally
there, as in coming Years they are wont to be; that high Lady being
ardent to reform her Army, root and branch, according to the
Prussian model,--more praise to her. [ Maria Theresiens
Leben, p. 160 (what she did that way, ANNO 1749);
p. 162 (PRESENT at the Reviews, ANNO 1750).] "At this Muster in
Mahren, Three Prussian Officers happened to make their appearance,
--for several imaginable reasons, of little significance: 'For the
purpose of inveigling people to desert, and enlist with them!' said
the Austrian Authorities; and ordered the Three Prussian Officers
unceremoniously off the ground. Which Friedrich, when he heard of
it, thought an unhandsome pipe-clay procedure, and kept in mind
against the Austrian Authorities.
"Next Summer," next Spring, 1750, "an Austrian Captain being in
Mecklenburg, travelling about, met there an old acquaintance, one
Chapeau [HAT! can it be possible?], who is in great favor with the
King of Prussia:"--very well, Excellency Hanbury; but who, in the
name of wonder, can this HAT, or Chapeau, have been? After study,
one perceives that Hanbury wrote Chazeau, meaning CHASOT, an old
acquaintance of our own! Brilliant, sabring, melodying Chasot,
Lieutenant-Colonel of the Baireuth Dragoons; who lies at Treptow,
close on Mecklenburg, and is a declared favorite of the Duchess,
often running over to the RESIDENZ there. Often enough; but HONI
SOIT, O reader; the clever Lady is towards sixty, childless,
musical; and her Husband--do readers recollect him at all?--is that
collapsed TAILORING Duke whom Friedrich once visited,--and whose
Niece, Half-Niece, is Charlotte, wise little hard-favored creature
now of six, in clean bib and tucker, Ancestress of England that is
to be; whose Papa will succeed, if the Serene Tailor die first,--
which he did not quite. To this Duchess, musical gallant Chasot may
well be a resource, and she to him. Naturally the Austrian Captain,
having come to Mecklenburg, dined with Serene Highness, he and
Chasot together, with concert following, and what not, at the
Schloss of Neu-Strelitz:--And now we will drop the 'Chapeau,' and
say Chasot, with comfort, and a shade of new interest.
"'The grand May Review at Berlin just ahead, won't you look in;
it is straight on your road home?' suggests Chasot to his
travelling friend. 'One would like it, of all things,' answered the
other: 'but the King?' 'Tush,' said Chasot; 'I will make that all
straight!' And applies to the King accordingly: 'Permission to an
Austrian Officer, a good acquaintance of mine.' 'Austrian Officer?'
Friedrich's eyes lighten; and he readily gives the permission.
This was at Berlin, on the very eve of the Review; and Chasot and
his Austrian are made happy in that small matter. And on the morrow
[end of May, 1750], the Austrian attends accordingly; but, to his
astonishment, has hardly begun to taste the manoeuvres, when--one
of Friedrich's Aides-de-Camp gallops up: 'By the King's command,
Mein Herr, you retire on the instant!'
"Next day, the Austrian is for challenging Chasot. 'As you like,
that way,' answers Chasot; 'but learn first, that on your affront I
rode up to the King; and asked, publicly, Did not your Majesty
grant me permission? Unquestionably, Monsieur Chasot;--and if he
had not come, how could I have paid back the Moravian business of
last year!'" [Walpole, George the Second,
i. 457, 459.]--This is much in Friedrich's way; not the unwelcomer
that it includes a satirical twitch on Chasot, whom he truly likes
withal, or did like, though now a little dissatisfied with those
too frequent Mecklenburg excursions and extra-military cares.
Of this, merely squeezing the Hanbury venom out of it, I can
believe every particular.
"Did you ever hear of anything so shocking?" is Hanbury's meaning
here and elsewhere. "I must tell you a story of the King of
Prussia's regard for the Law of Nations," continues he to Walpole?
[Ib. i. 458.] Which proves to be a story, turned topsy-turvy, of
one Hofmann, Brunswick Envoy, who (quite BEYOND commission, and a
thing that must not be thought of at all!) had been detected in
dangerous intriguings with the ever-busy Russian Excellency, or
another; and got flung into Spandau, [Adelung, v. 534;
vii. 132-144.]--seemingly pretty much his due in the matter. And so
of other Hanbury things. "What a Prussia; for rigor of command, one
huge prison, in a manner!" King intent on punctuality, and all his
business upon the square. Society, official and unofficial, kept
rather strictly to their tackle; their mode of movement not that of
loose oxen at all! "Such a detestable Tyrant,"--who has ordered ME,
Hanbury, else-whither with my exquisite talents and admired wit!--
CANDIDATUS LINSENBARTH (QUASI "Lentil-beard") LIKEWISE
VISITS BERLIN.
By far the notablest arrival in Berlin is M. de Voltaire's July
10th; a few days before Hanbury got his First Audience, "five
minutes long." But that arrival will require a Chapter to itself;
--most important arrival, that, of all! The least important, again,
is probably that of Candidatus Linsenbarth, in these same weeks;--
a rugged poverty-stricken old Licentiate of Theology; important to
no mortal in Berlin or elsewhere:--upon whom, however, and upon his
procedures in that City, we propose, for our own objects, to bestow
a few glances; rugged Narrative of the thing, in singular exotic
dialect, but true every word, having fortunately come to us from
Linsenbarth's own hand. [Through Rodenbeck, Beitrage, i. 463 et seq.]
Berlin, it must be admitted, after all one's reading in poor
Dryasdust, remains a dim empty object; Teutschland is dim and
empty: and out of the forty blind sacks, or out of four hundred
such, what picture can any human head form to itself of Friedrich
as King or Man? A trifling Adventure of that poor individual,
called Linsenbarth CANDIDATUS THEOLOGIAE, one of the poorest of
mortals, but true and credible in every particular, comes gliding
by chance athwart all that; and like the glimmer of a poor
rushlight, or kindled straw, shows it us for moments, a thing
visible, palpable, as it worked and lived. In the great dearth,
Linsenbarth, if I can faithfully interpret him for the modern
reader, will be worth attending to.
Date of Linsenbarth's Adventure is June-August, 1750. "Schloss of
Beichlingen" and "Village of Hemmleben" are in the Thuringen Hill
Country (Weimar not far off to eastward): the Hero himself, a tall
awkward raw-boned creature, is, for perhaps near forty years past,
a CANDIDATUS, say Licentiate, or Curate without Cure. Subsists, I
should guess, by schoolmastering--cheapest schoolmaster
conceivable, wages mere nothing--in the Villages about; in the
Village of Hemmleben latterly; age, as I discover, grown to be
sixty-one, in those straitened but by no means forlorn
circumstances. And so, here is veteran Linsenbarth of Hemmleben, a
kind of Thuringian Dominie Sampson; whose Interview with such a
brother mortal as Friedrich King of Prussia may be worth looking
at,--if I can abridge it properly.
Well, it appears, in the year 1750, at this thrice-obscure Village
of Hemmleben, the worthy old pastor Cannabich died;--worthy old
man, how he had lived there, modestly studious, frugal, chiefly on
farm-produce, with tobacco and Dutch theology; a modest blessing to
his fellow-creatures! And now he is dead, and the place vacant.
Twenty pounds a Year certain; let us guess it twenty, with glebe-
land, piggeries, poultry-hutches: who is now to get all that?
Linsenbarth starts with his Narrative, in earnest.
Linsenbarth, who I guess may have been Assistant to the deceased
Cannabich, and was now out of work, says: "I had not the least
thought of profiting by this vacancy; but what happened? The Herr
Graf von Werthern, at Schloss Beichlingen, sent his Steward
[LEHNSDIRECTOR, FIEF-DIRECTOR is the title of this Steward, which
gives rise to obsolete thought of mill-dues, road-labor, payments
IN NATURA], his Lehnsdirector, Herr Kettenbeil, over to my LOGIS
[cheap boarding quarters]; who brought a gracious salutation from
his Lord; saying farther, That I knew too well [excellent Cannabich
gone from us, alas!] the Pastorate of Hemmleben was vacant;
that there had various competitors announced themselves,
SUPPLICANDO, for the place; the Herr Graf, however, had yet given
none of them the FIAT, but waited always till I should apply. As I
had not done so, he (the Lord Graf) would now of his own motion
give me the preference, and hereby confer the Pastorate upon me!"--
"Without all controversy, here was a VOCATIO DIVINA, to be received
with the most submissive thanks! But the lame second messenger came
hitching in [HALTING MESSENGER, German proverb] very soon.
Kettenbeil began again: 'He must mention to me SUB ROSA, Her
Ladyship the Frau Grafin wanted to have her Lady's-maid provided
for by this promotion, too; I must marry her, and take the living
at the same time.'"
Whew! And this is the noble Lady's way of thinking, up in her fine
Schloss yonder? Linsenbarth will none of it. "For my notion fell at
once," says he, "when I heard it was DO UT FACIAS, FACIO UT FACIAS
(I give that thou mayest do, I do that thou mayest do; Wilt have
the kirk, then take the irk, WILLST DU DIE PFARRE, SO NIMM DIE
QUARRE); on those terms, my reply was: 'Most respectful thanks,
Herr Fief-judge, and No, for such a vocation! And why? The vocation
must have LIBERTATEM, there must be no VITIUM ESSENTIALE in it;
it must be right IN ESSENTIALI, otherwise no honest man can accept
it with a good conscience. This were a marriage on constraint;
out of which a thousand INCONVENIENTIAE might spring!'"
Hear Linsenbarth, in the piebald dialect, with the sound heart, and
preference of starvation itself to some other things! Kettenbeil
(CHAIN-AXE) went home; and there was found another Candidatus
willing for the marriage on constraint, "out of which
INCONVENIENTIAE might spring," in Linsenbarth's opinion.
"And so did the sneakish courtly gentleman [HOFMANN, courtier as
Linsenbarth has it], who grasped with both hands at my rejected
offer, experience before long," continues Linsenbarth. "For the
loose thing of court-tatters led him such a life that, within three
years, age yet only thirty, he had to bite the dust" (BITE AT THE
GRASS, says Linsenbarth, proverbially), which was an INCONVENIENTIA
including all others. "And I had LEGITIMAM CAUSAM to refuse the
vocation CUM TALI CONDITIONE.
"However, it was very ill taken of me. All over that Thuringian
region I was cried out upon as a headstrong foolish person:
The Herr Graf von Werthern, so ran the story, had of his own
kindness, without request of mine, offered me a living; RARA AVIS,
singular instance; and I, rash and without head, flung away such
gracious offer. In short, I was told to my face [by good-natured
friends], Nobody would ever think of me for promotion again;"--
universal suffrage giving it clear against poor Linsenbarth, in
this way.
"To get out of people's sight at least," continues he, "I decided
to leave my native place, and go to Berlin," 250 miles away or
more. "And so it was that, on June the 20th, 1750, I landed at
Berlin for the first time: and here straightway at the PACKHOF (or
Custom-house), in searching of my things, 400 THALERS (some 60
pounds), all in Nurnberg BATZEN, were seized from me;"--BATZEN,
quarter-groats we may say; 7 and a half batzen go to a shilling;
what a sack there must have been of them, 9,000 in all, about the
size of herring-scales, in bad silver; fruit of Linsenbarth's stern
thrift from birth upwards:--all snatched from him at one swoop.
"And why?" says he, quite historically: Yes, Why? The reader, to
understand it wholly, would need to read in Mylius's
Edicten-Sammlung, in SEYFARTH and elsewhere; [Mylius,
Edict xli., January, 1744, &c. &c.] and to
know the scandalous condition of German coinage at this time and
long after; every needy little Potentate mixing his coin with
copper at discretion, and swindling mankind with it for a season;
needing to be peremptorily forbidden, confiscated or ordered home,
by the like of Friedrich. Linsenbarth answers his own "And why?"
with historical calmness:--
"The king had, some (six) years ago, had the batzen utterly cried
down (GANZ UND GAR); they were not to circulate at all in his
Countries; and I was so bold, I had brought batzen hither into the
King's Capital, KONIGLICHE RESIDENZ itself! At the Packhof, there
was but one answer, 'Contraband, Contraband!'"--Here was a welcome
for a man. "I made my excuses: Did not the least know;
came straight from Thuringen, many miles of road; could not guess
there What His Majesty the King had been pleased to forbid in His
(THEIRO) Countries. 'You should have informed yourself,' said the
Packhof people; and were deaf to such considerations. 'A man coming
into such a Residenz Town as Berlin, with intent to abide there,
should have inquired a little what was what, especially what coins
were cried down, and what allowed,' said they of the Packhof."
Poor Linsenbarth! "'But what am I to do now? How am I to live, if
you take my very money from me?' 'That is your outlook,' said they;
--and added, He must even find stowage for his stack of herring-
scales or batzen, as soon as it was sealed up; 'we have no room for
it in the Packhof!'" for a man: Here is a roughish welcome "I must
leave all my money here; and find stowage for it, in a day or two.
"There was, accordingly, a truck-porter called in; he loaded my
effects on his barrow, and rolled away. He brought me to the WHITE
SWAN in the JUDENSTRASSE [none of the grandest of streets, that
Berlin JEWRY], threw my things out, and demanded four groschen.
Two of my batzen" 2 and a half exact, "would have done; but I had
no money at all. The landlord came out: seeing that I had a stuffed
feather-bed [note the luggage of Linsenbarth: "FEDER-BETT," of
extreme tenuity], a trunk full of linens, a bag of Books and other
trifles, he paid the man; and sent me to a small room in the court-
yard [Inn forms a Court, perhaps four stories high]: 'I could stay
there,' he said; 'he would give me food and drink in the
meanwhile.' And so I lived in this Inn eight weeks long, without
one red farthing, in mere fear and anxiety." June 20th PLUS eight
weeks brings us to August 15th; Voltaire in HEIGHT of feather;
and very great things just ahead! ["Grand Carrousel, 25th August;"
&c.]--of which soon.
The White Swan was a place where Carriers lodged: some limb of the
Law, of Subaltern sort, whom Linsenbarth calls "DER ADVOCAT B."
(one of the Ousted of Cocceji, shall we fancy!), had to do with
Carriers and their pie-powder lawsuits. Advocat B. had noticed the
gray dreary CANDIDATUS, sitting sparrow-like in remote corners;
had spoken to him;--undertook for a LOUIS D'OR, no purchase no pay,
to get back his batzen for him. They went accordingly, one morning,
to "a grand House;" it was a Minister's (name not given), very
grand Official Man: he heard the Advocat B.'s short statement;
and made answer: "Monsieur, and is it you that will pick holes in
the King's Law? I have understood you were rather aiming at the
HAUSVOGTEI [Common Jail of Berlin]: Go on in that way, and you are
sure of your promotion!"--Advocat B. rushed out with Linsenbarth
into the street; and there was neither pay nor purchase in
that quarter.
Poor Linsenbarth was next advised, by simple neighbors, to go
direct to the King; as every poor man can, at certain hours of the
day. "Write out your Case (Memorial) with extreme brevity," said
they; "nothing but the essential points, and those clear."
Linsenbarth, steam at the high-pressure, composed (CONZIPIRTE) a
Memorial of that right laconic sort; wrote it fair (MUNDIRTE ES);--
and went off therewith "at opening of the Gates [middle time of
August, 1750, no date farther), [August 21st? (See Rodenbeck,
DIARY, which we often quote, i. 205.)]--without one farthing in my
pocket, in God's name, to Potsdam." He continues:--
"And at Potsdam I was lucky enough to see the King; my first sight
of him. He was on the Palace Esplanade there, drilling his troops
[fine trim sanded Expanse, with the Palace to rear, and Garden-
walks and River to front; where Friedrich Wilhelm sat, the last day
he was out, and ordered Jockey Philips's house to be actually set
about; where the troops do evolutions every morning;--there is
Friedrich with cocked-hat and blue coat; say about 11 A.M.].
"When the drill was over, his Majesty went into the Garden, and the
soldiers dispersed; only four Officers remained lounging upon the
Esplanade, and walked up and down. For fright I knew not what to
do; I pulled the Papers out of my pocket,--these were my Memorial,
two Certificates of character, and a Thuringen Pass [poor soul].
The Officers noticed this; came straight to me, and said, 'What
letters has He there, then?' I thankfully and gladly imparted the
whole; and when the Officers had read them, they said, 'We will
give you [Him, not even THEE] a good advice, The King is extra-
gracious to-day, and is gone alone into the Garden. Follow him
straight. Thou wilt have luck.'
"This I would not do; my awe was too great. They thereupon laid
hands on me [the mischievous dogs, not ill-humored either]:
one took me by the right arm, another by the left, 'Off, off;
to the Garden!' Having got me thither, they looked out for the
King. He was among the gardeners, examining some rare plant;
stooping over it, and had his back to us. Here I had to halt;
and the Officers began, in underhand tone [the dogs!], to put me
through my drill: 'Hat under left arm!--Right foot foremost!--
Breast well forward!--Head up!--Papers from pouch!--Papers aloft in
right hand!--Steady! Steady!'--And went their ways, looking always
round, to see if I kept my posture. I perceived well enough they
were pleased to make game of me; but I stood, all the same, like a
wall, being full of fear. The Officers were hardly out of the
Garden, when the King turned round, and saw this extraordinary
machine,"--telegraph figure or whatever we may call it, with papers
pointing to the sky. "He gave such a look at me, like a flash of
sunbeams glancing through you; and sent one of the gardeners to
bring my papers. Which having got, he struck into another walk with
them, and was out of sight. In few minutes he appeared again at the
place where the rare plant was, with my Papers open in his left
hand; and gave me a wave with them To come nearer. I plucked up a
heart, and went straight towards him. Oh, how thrice and four-times
graciously this great Monarch deigned to speak to me!--
KING. "'My good Thuringian (LIEBER THURINGER), you came to Berlin,
seeking to earn your bread by industrious teaching of children;
and here, at the Packhof, in searching your things, they have taken
your Thuringen hoard from you. True, the batzen are not legal here;
but the people should have said to you: You are a stranger, and did
n't know the prohibition;--well then, we will seal up the Bag of
Batzen; you send it back to Thuringen, get it changed for other
sorts; we will not take it from you!--
"'Be of heart, however; you shall have your money again, and
interest too.--But, my poor man, Berlin pavement is bare, they
don't give anything gratis: you are a stranger; before you are
known and get teaching, your bit of money is done; what then?'
"I understood the speech right well; but my awe was too great to
say: 'Your Majesty will have the all-highest grace to allow me
something!' But as I was so simple and asked for nothing, he did
not offer anything. And so he turned away; but had scarcely gone
six or eight steps, when he looked round, and gave me a sign I was
to walk by him; and then began catechising:--
KING. "'Where did you (ER) study?'
LINSENBARTH. "'Your Majesty, in Jena.'
KING. "'What years?'
LINSENBARTH. "'From 1716 to 1720.' ["Born 1689" (Rodenbeck, p.
474); twenty-five when he went.]
KING. "'Under what Pro-rector were you inscribed?'
LINSENBARTH. "'Under the PROFESSOR THEOLOGIAE Dr. Fortsch.'
KING. "'Who were your other Professors in the Theological Faculty?'"
LINSENBARTH--names famed men; sunk now, mostly, in the bottomless
waste-basket: "Buddaus" (who did a DICTIONARY of the BAYLE sort,
weighing four stone troy, out of which I have learned many a
thing), "Buddaeus," "Danz," "Weissenborn," "Wolf" (now back at
Halle after his tribulations,--poor man, his immortal System of
Philosophy, where is it!).
KING. "'Did you study BIBLICA diligently?'
LINSENBARTH. "'With Buddaeus (BEYM BUDDAO).'
KING. "'That is he who had such quarrelling with Wolf?'
LINSENBARTH. "'Yea, your Majesty! He was--'
KING (does not want to know what he was). "'What other useful
Courses of Lectures (COLLEGIA) did you attend?'
LINSENBARTH. "'Thetics and Exegetics with Fortsch [How the deuce
did Fortsch teach these things?]; Hermeneutics and Polemics with
Walch [editor of Luther's Works, I suppose];
Hebraics with Dr. Danz; Homiletics with Dr. Weissenborn; PASTORALE
[not Pastoral Poetry, but the Art of Pastorship] and MORALE with
Dr. Buddaeus.' [There, your Majesty!--what a glimpse, as into
infinite extinct Continents, filled with ponderous thorny
inanities, invincible nasal drawling of didactic Titans, and the
awful attempt to spin, on all manner of wheels, road-harness out of
split cobwebs: Hoom! Hoom-m-m! Harness not to be had on those
terms. Let the dreary Limbus close again, till the general Day of
Judgment for all this.]
KING (glad to get out of the Limbus). "'Were things as wild then at
Jena, in your time, as of old, when the Students were forever
scuffling and ruffling, and the Couplet went:--
"Wer kommt von Jena ungeschlagen,
Der hat von grossen Gluck zu sagen.
"He that comes from Jena SINE BELLO,
He may think himself a lucky fellow"?'
LINSENBARTH. "'That sort of folly is gone quite out of fashion;
and a man can lead a silent and quiet life there, just as at other
Universities, if he will attend to the DIC, CURHIC? [or know what
his real errand is]. In my time their Serene Highnesses, the
Nursing-fathers of the University (NUTRITORES ACADEMIAE),--of the
Ernestine Line [Weimar-Gotha Highnesses, that is], were in the
habit of having the Rufflers (RENOMISTEN), Renowners as they are
called, who made so much disturbance, sent to Eisenach to lie in
the Wartburg a while; there they learned to be quiet.'
[Clock strikes Twelve,--dinner-time of Majesty.]
KING. "'Now I must go: they are waiting for their soup'" (and so
ends Dialogue for the present). 'Did the King bid me wait?
"When we got out of the Garden," says Linsenbarth, silent on this
point, "the four Officers were still there upon the Esplanade
[Captains of Guard belike]; they went into the Palace with the
King,"--clearly meaning to dine with his Majesty.
"I remained standing on the Esplanade. For twenty-seven hours I had
not tasted food: not a farthing IN BONIS [of principal or interest]
to get bread with; I had waded twenty miles hither, in a sultry
morning, through the sand. Not a difficult thing to keep down
laughter in such circumstances!"--Poor soul; but the Royal mind is
human too.--"In this tremor of my heart, there came a KAMMER-HUSSAR
[Soldier-Valet, Valet reduced to his simplest expression] out of
the Palace, and asked, 'Where is the man that was with my King
(MEINEM KONIG,--THY King particularly?) in the Garden?' I answered,
'Here!' And he led me into the Schloss, to a large Room, where
pages, lackeys, and Kammer-hussars were about. My Kammer-hussar
took me to a little table, excellently furnished; with soup, beef;
likewise carp dressed with garden-salad, likewise game with
cucumber-salad: bread, knife, fork, spoon and salt were all there
[and I with an appetite of twenty-seven hours; I too was there].
My hussar set me a chair, said: 'This that is on the table, the
King has ordered to be served for you (IHM): you are to eat your
fill, and mind nobody; and I am to serve. Sharp, then, fall to!'--
I was greatly astonished, and knew not what to do; least of all
could it come into my head that the King's Kammer-hussar, who
waited on his Majesty, should wait on me. I pressed him to sit by
me; but as he refused, I did as bidden; sat down, took my spoon,
and went at it with a will (FRISCH)!
"The hussar took the beef from the table, set it on the charcoal
dish (to keep it hot till wanted); he did the like with the fish
and roast game; and poured me out wine and beer--[was ever such a
lucky Barmecide!] I ate and drank till I had abundantly enough.
Dessert, confectionery, what I could,--a plateful of big black
cherries, and a plateful of pears, my waiting-man wrapped in paper
and stuffed them into my pockets, to be a refreshment on the way
home. And so I rose from the Royal table; and thanked God and the
King in my heart, that I had so gloriously dined,"--HERRLICH,
"gloriously" at last. Poor excellent down-trodden Linsenbarth,
one's heart opens to him, not one's larder only.
"The hussar took away. At that moment a Secretary came; brought me
a sealed Order (Rescript) to the Packhof at Berlin, with my
Certificates (TESTIMONIA), and the Pass; told down on the table
five Tail-ducats (SCHWANZ-DUKATEN), and a Gold Friedrich under them
[about 3 pounds 10s., I think; better than 10 pounds of our day to
a common man, and better than 100 pounds to a Linsenbarth],--
saying, The King sent me this to take me home to Berlin again.
"And if the hussar took me into the Palace, it was now the
Secretary that took me out again. And there, yoked with six horses,
stood a royal Proviant-wagon; which having led me to, the Secretary
said: 'You people, the King has given order you are to take this
stranger to Berlin, and also to accept no drink-money from him.'
I again, through the HERRN SECRETARIUM, testified my most
submissive thankfulness for all Royal graciousnesses; took my
place, and rolled away.
"On reaching Berlin, I went at once to the Packhof, straight to the
office-room,"--standing more erect this time,--"and handed them my
Royal Rescript. The Head man opened the seal; in reading, he
changed color, went from pale to red; said nothing, and gave it to
the second man to read. The second put on his spectacles; read, and
gave it to the third. However, he [the Head man] rallied himself at
last: I was to come forward, and be so good as write a quittance
(receipt), 'That I had received, for my 400 thalers all in Batzen,
the same sum in Brandenburg coin, ready down, without the least
deduction.' My cash was at once accurately paid. And thereupon the
Steward was ordered, To go with me to the White Swan in the
Judenstrasse, and pay what I owed there, whatever my score was.
For which end they gave him twenty-four thalers; and if that were
not enough, he was to come and get more." On these high terms
Linsenbarth marched out of the Packhof for the second time;
the sublime head of him (not turned either) sweeping the
very stars.
"That was what the King had meant when he said, "You shall have
your money back and interest too:' VIDELICET, that the Packhof was
to pay my expenses at the White Swan. The score, however, was only
10 thaler,' 4 groschen, 6 pfennigs [30 shillings, 5 pence, and 2 or
perhaps 3 quarter-farthings], for what I had run up in eight
weeks,"--an uncommonly frugal rate of board, for a man skilled in
Hermeneutics, Hebraics, Polemics, Thetica, Exegetics, Pastorale,
Morale (and Practical Christianity and the Philosophy of Zeno,
carried to perfection, or nearly so)! "And herewith this troubled
History had its desired finish." And our gray-whiskered, raw-boned,
great-hearted Candidatus lay down to sleep, at the White Swan;
probably the happiest man in all Berlin, for the time being.
Linsenbarth dived now into Private-teaching, "INFORMATION," as he
calls it; forming, and kneading into his own likeness, such of the
young Berliners as he could get hold of:--surely not without some
good effect on them, the model having, besides Hermeneutics in
abundance, so much natural worth about it. He himself found the
mine of Informing a very barren one, as to money: continued poor in
a high degree, without honor, without emolument to speak of;
and had a straitened, laborious, and what we might think very dark
Life-pilgrimage. But the darkness was nothing to him, he carried
such an inextinguishable frugal rushlight within. Meat, clothes and
fire he did not again lack, in Berlin, for the time he needed
them,--some twenty-seven years still. And if he got no printed
praise in the Reviews, from baddish judges writing by the sheet,--
here and there brother mortals, who knew him by their own eyes and
experiences, looked, or transiently spoke, and even did, a most
real praise upon him now and then. And, on the whole, he can do
without praise; and will stand strokes even without wincing or
kicking, where there is no chance.
A certain Berlin Druggist ("Herr Medicinal-Assessor Rose," whom we
may call Druggist First, for there were Two that had to do with
Linsenbarth) was good and human to him. In Rose's House, where he
had come to teach the children, and which continued, always
thenceforth, a home to him when needful, he wrote this NARRATIVE
(Anno 1774); and died there, three years afterwards,--"24th August,
1777, of apoplexy, age 88," say the Burial Registers.
[In Rodenbeck, Beitrage, i. 472-475, these
latter Details (with others, in confused form); IB. 462-471, the
NARRATIVE itself.] Druggist Second, on succeeding the humane
Predecessor, found Linsenbarth's papers in the drug-stores of the
place: Druggist Second chanced to be one Klaproth, famed among the
Scientific of the world; and by him the Linsenbarth Narrative was
forwarded to publication, and such fame as is requisite.
SIR JONAS HANWAY STALKS ACROSS THE SCENE, TOO; IN A
PONDERING AND OBSERVING MANNER.
Of the then very famous "Berlin Carrousel of 1750" we propose to
say little; the now chief interesting point in it being that M. de
Voltaire is curiously visible to us there. But the truth is, they
were very great days at Berlin, those of Autumn, 1750;
distinguished strangers come or coming; the King giving himself up
to entertainment of them, to enjoyment of them; with such a hearty
outburst of magnificence, this Carrousel the apex of it, as was
rare in his reign. There were his Sisters of Schwedt and Baireuth,
with suite, his dear Wilhelmina queen of the scene; ["Came 8th
August" (Rodenbeck, 205).] there were-- It would be tedious to
count what other high Herrschaften and Durchlauchtig Persons.
And to crown the whole, and entertain Wilhelmina as a Queen should
be, there had come M. de Voltaire; conquered at length to us, as we
hope, and the Dream of our Youth realized. Voltaire's reception,
July 10th and ever since, has been mere splendor and kindness;
really extraordinary, as we shall find farther on.
Reception perfect in all points, except that of the Pompadour's
Compliments alone. "That sublime creature's compliments to your
Majesty; such her express command! " said Voltaire. "JE NE LA
CONNAIS PAS," answered Friedrich, with his clear-ringing voice,
"I don't know her;" [Voltaire to Madame Denis, "Potsdam, 11th
August, 1750" ( OEuvres, lxxiv. 184).]--
sufficient intimation to Voltaire, but painful and surprising.
For which some diplomatic persons blame Friedrich to this day;
but not I, or any reader of mine. A very proud young King; in his
silent way, always the prouder; and stands in no awe of the Divine
Butterflies and Crowned Infatuations never so potent, as more
prudent people do.
In a Berlin of such stir and splendor, the arrivals of Sir Jonas
Hanway, of the "young Lord Malton" (famed Earl or Marquis of
Rockingham that will be), or of the witty Excellency Hanbury, are
as nothing;--Sir Jonas's as less than nothing. A Sir Jonas noticed
by nobody; but himself taking note, dull worthy man;
and mentionable now on that account. Here is a Scrap regarding him,
not quite to be thrown away:
"Sir Jonas Hanway was not always so extinct as he has now become.
Readers might do worse than turn to his now old Book of TRAVELS
again, and the strange old London it awakens for us: A 'Russian
Trading Company,' full of hope to the then mercantile mind;
a Mr. Hanway despatched, years ago, as Chief Clerk, inexpressibly
interested to manage well;--and managing, as you may read at large.
Has done his best and utmost, all this while; and had such
travellings through the Naphtha Countries, sailings on the Caspian;
such difficulties, successes,--ultimately, failure. Owing to Mr.
Elton and Thamas Kouli Khan mainly. Thamas Kouli Khan--otherwise
called Nadir Shah (and a very hard-headed fellow, by all
appearance)--wiled and seduced Mr. Elton, an Ex-Naval gentleman,
away from his Ledgers, to build him Ships; having set his heart on
getting a Navy. And Mr. Elton did build him (spite of all I could
say) a Bark or two on the Caspian;--most hopeful to the said Nadir
Shah; but did it come to anything? It disgusted, it alarmed the
Russians; and ruined Sir Jonas,--who is returning at this period,
prepared to render account of himself at London, in a loftily
resigned frame of mind. [Jonas Hanway, An Account of &c.
(or in brief, TRAVELS: London, 3 vols. 4to, 1753),
ii. 183. "Arrived in Berlin," from the Caspian and Petersburg side,
"August 15th, 1750."]
"The remarks of Sir Jonas upon Berlin--for he exercises everywhere
a sapient observation on men and things--are of dim tumidly
insignificant character, reminding us of an extinct Minerva's Owl;
and reduce themselves mainly to this bit of ocular testimony, That
his Prussian Majesty rides much about, often at a rapid rate;
with a pleasant business aspect, humane though imperative;
handsome to look upon, though with face perceptibly reddish [and
perhaps snuff on it, were you near]. His age now thirty-eight gone;
a set appearance, as if already got into his forties. Complexion
florid, figure muscular, almost tending to be plump.
"Listen well through Hanway, you will find King Friedrich is an
object of great interest, personal as well as official, and much
the theme in Berlin society; admiration of him, pride in him, not
now the audiblest tone, though it lies at the bottom too:
'Our Friedrich the Great,' after all [so Hanway intimates, though
not express as to epithets or words used]. The King did a beautiful
thing to Lieutenant-Colonel Keith the other day [as some readers
may remember]: to Lieutenant-Colonel Keith; that poor Keith who was
nailed to the gallows for him (in effigy), at Wesel long ago;
and got far less than he had expected. The other day, there had
been a grand Review, part of it extending into Madam Knyphausen's
grounds, who is Keith's Mother-in-law. 'Monsieur Keith,' said the
King to him, 'I am sorry we had to spoil Madam's fine shrubbery by
our manoeuvres: have the goodness to give her that, with my
apologies,'--and handed him a pretty Casket with key to it, and in
the interior 10,000 crowns. Not a shrub of Madam's had been cut or
injured; but the King, you see, would count it 1,500 pounds of
damage done, and here is acknowledgment for it, which please
accept. Is not that a gracious little touch?
"This King is doing something at Embden, Sir Jonas fears, or trying
to do, in the Trade-and-Navigation way; scandalous that English
capitalists will lend money in furtherance of such destructive
schemes by the Foreigner! For the rest, Sir Jonas went to call on
Lord Malton (Marquis of Rockingham that will be): an amiable and
sober young Nobleman, come thus far on his Grand Tour," and in time
for the Carrousel. "His Lordship's reception at Court here, one
regretted to hear, was nothing distinguished; quite indifferent,
indeed, had not the Queen-Mother stept in with amendments. The
Courts are not well together; pity for it. My Lord and his Tutor
did me the honor to return my visit; the rather as we all quartered
in the same Inn. Amiable young Nobleman,"--so distinguished since,
for having had unconsciously an Edmund Burke, and such torrents of
Parliamentary Eloquence, in his breeches-pocket (BREECHES-POCKET
literally; how unknown to Hanway!)--"Amiable young Nobleman, is not
it one's duty to salute, in passing such a one? Though I would by
no means have it over-done, and am a calmly independent man.
"Sir Jonas also saw the Carrousel [of which presently]; and admired
the great men of Berlin. Great men, all obsolete now, though then
admired to infinitude, some of them: 'You may abuse me,' said the
King to some stranger arrived in Berlin; 'you may abuse me, and
perhaps here and there get praise by doing it: but I advise you not
to doubt of Lieberkuhn [the fashionable Doctor] in any company in
Berlin,'" [Hanway, ii. 190, 202, &c.]--How fashionable are men!
One Collini, a young Italian, quite new in Berlin, chanced also to
be at the Carrousel, or at the latter half of it,--though by no
means in quest of such objects just at present, poor young fellow!
As he came afterwards to be Secretary or Amanuensis of Voltaire,
and will turn up in that capacity, let us read this Note
upon him:--
"Signor Como Alessandro Collini, a young Venetian gentleman of some
family and education, but of no employment or resource, had in late
years been asking zealously all round among his home circle, What
am I to do with myself? mere echo answering, What,--till a Signora
Sister of Barberina the Dancer's answered: 'Try Berlin, and King
FRIDERICO IL GRANDE there? I could give you a letter to my Sister!'
At which Collini grasps; gets under way for Berlin,--through wild
Alpine sceneries, foreign guttural populations; and with what
thoughts, poor young fellow. It is a common course to take, and
sometimes answers, sometimes not. The cynosure of vague creatures,
with a sense of faculty without direction. What clouds of winged
migratory people gathering in to Berlin, all through this Reign.
Not since Noah's Ark a stranger menagerie of creatures, mostly
wild. Of whom Voltaire alone is, in our time, worth mention.
"Collini gazed upon the Alpine chasms, and shaggy ice-palaces, with
tender memory of the Adriatic; courageously steered his way through
the inoffensive guttural populations; had got to Berlin, just in
this time; been had to dinner daily by the hospitable Barberinas,
young Cocceji always his fellow-guest,--'Privately, my poor
Signorina's Husband!' whispered old Mamma. Both the Barberinas were
very kind to Collini; cheering him with good auguries, and offers
of help. Collini does not date with any punctuality; but the German
Books will do it for him. August 25th-27th was Carrousel;
and Collini had arrived few days before." [Collini, Mon
Sejour aupres de Voltaire (Paris, 1807), pp. 1-21.]
And now it is time we were at the Carrousel ourselves,--in a brief
transient way.
Chapter VI.
BERLIN CARROUSEL, AND VOLTAIRE VISIBLE THERE.
Readers have heard of the PLACE DU CARROUSEL at Paris; and know
probably that Louis XIV. held world-famous Carrousel there (A.D.
1662); and, in general, that Carrousel has something to do with
Tourneying, or the Shadow of Tourneying. It is, in fact, a kind of
superb be-tailored running at the ring, instead of be-blacksmithed
running at one another. A Second milder Edition of those Tournament
sports, and dangerous trials of strength and dexterity, which were
so grand a business in the Old iron Ages. Of which, in the form of
Carrousel or otherwise, down almost to the present day, there have
been examples, among puissant Lords;--though now it is felt to have
become extremely hollow; perhaps incapable of fully entertaining
anybody, except children and their nurses on a high occasion.
A century ago, before the volcanic explosion of so many things
which it has since become wearisome to think of in this earnest
world, the Tournament, emblem of an Age of Chivalry, which was
gone: but had not yet declared itself to be quite gone, and even to
be turned topsy-turvy, had still substance as a mummery,--not
enough, I should say, to spend much money upon. Not much real
money: except, indeed, the money were offered you gratis, from
other parties interested? Sir Jonas kindly informs us, by
insinuation, that this was, to a good degree, Friedrich's case in
the now Carrousel: "a thing got up by the private efforts of
different great Lords and Princes of the blood;" each party
tailoring, harnessing and furbishing himself and followers;
Friedrich contributing little but the arena and general outfit.
I know not whether even the 40,000 lamps (for it took place by
night) were of his purchase, though that is likely; and know only
that the Suppers and interior Palace Entertainments would be his.
"Did not cost the King much money," says Sir Jonas; which is
satisfactory to know. For of the Carrousel kind, or of the Royal-
Mummery kind in general, there has been, for graceful arrangement,
for magnificence regardless of expense,--inviting your amiable Lord
Malton, and the idlers of all Countries, and awakening the rapture
of Gazetteers,--nothing like it since Louis the Grand's time.
Nothing,--except perhaps that Camp of Muhlberg or Radowitz, where
we once were. Done, this one, not at the King's expense alone, but
at other people's chiefly: that is an unexpected feature, welcome
if true; and, except for Sir Jonas, would not have helped to
explain the puzzle for us, as it did in the then Berlin circles.
Muhlberg, in my humble judgment, was worth two of this as a
Mummery;--but the meritorious feature of Friedrich's is, that it
cost him very little.
It was, say all Gazetteers and idle eye-witnesses, a highly
splendid spectacle. By much the most effulgent exhibition Friedrich
ever made of himself in the Expensive-Mummery department: and I
could give in extreme detail the phenomena of it; but, in mercy to
poor readers, will not. Fancy the assiduous hammering and sawing on
the Schloss-Platz, amid crowds of gay loungers, giving cheerful
note of preparation, in those latter days of August, 1750. And, on
WEDNESDAY NIGHT, 25th AUGUST, look and see,--for the due moments
only, and vaguely enough (as in the following Excerpt):--
PALACE-ESPLANADE OF BERLIN, 25th AUGUST, 1750 (dusk sinking into
dark): "Under a windy nocturnal sky, a spacious Parallelogram,
enclosed for jousting as at Aspramont or Trebisond. Wide enough
arena in the centre; vast amphitheatre of wooden seats and
passages, firm carpentry and fitted for its business, rising all
round; Audience, select though multitudinous, sitting decorous and
garrulous, say since half-past eight. There is royal box on the
ground-tier; and the King in it, King, with Princess Amelia for the
prizes: opposite to this is entrance for the Chevaliers,--four
separate entrances, I think. Who come,--lo, at last!--with
breathings and big swells of music, as Resuscitations from the
buried Ages.
"They are in four 'Quadrilles,' so termed: Romans, Persians,
Carthaginians, Greeks. Four Jousting Parties, headed each by a
Prince of the Blood:--with such a splendor of equipment for jewels,
silver helmets, sashings, housings, as eye never saw. Prancing on
their glorious battle-steeds (sham-battle, steeds not sham, but
champing their bits as real quadrupeds with fire in their
interior):--how many in all, I forgot to count. Perhaps, on the
average, sixty in each Quadrille, fifteen of them practical
Ritters; the rest mythologic winged standard-bearers, blackamoors,
lictors, trumpeters and shining melodious phantasms as escort,--of
this latter kind say in round numbers Two Hundred altogether;
and of actual Ritters threescore. [Blumenthal, Life of De
Ziethen (Ziethen was in it, and gained a prize),
i. 257-263 et seq.; Voltaire's LETTERS to Niece Denis
( OEuvres, lxxiv. 174, 179, 198);--and two
contemporary 4tos on the subject, with Drawings &c., which may well
continue unknown to every reader.] Who run at rings, at Turks'
heads, and at other objects with death-doing lance; and prance and
flash and career along: glorious to see and hear. Under proud
flourishings of drums and trumpets, under bursts and breathings of
wind-music; under the shine of Forty Thousand Lamps, for one item.
All Berlin and the nocturnal firmament looking on,--night rather
gusty, 'which blew out many of the lamps,' insinuates Hanway.
"About midnight, Beauty in the form of Princess Amelia distributes
the prizes; Music filling the air; and human 'EUGE'S,' and the
surviving lamps, doing their best. After which the Principalities
and Ritters withdraw to their Palace, to their Balls and their
Supper of the gods; and all the world and his wife goes home again,
amid various commentary from high and low. 'JAMAIS, Never,'
murmured one high Gentleman, of the Impromptu kind, at the Palace
Supper-table:--
'Jamais dans Athene et dans Rome
On n'eut de plus beaux jours, ni de plus digne prix.
J'ai vu le fils de Mars sous les traits de Paris,
Et Venus qui donnait la pomme.'"
[Never in Athens or Rome were there braver sights or a worthier
prize: I have seen the son of Mars [King Friedrich] with Paris's
features, and Venus [Amelia] crowning the victorious."
( OEuvres de Voltaire, xviii. 320.]
And Amphitheatre and Lamps lapse wholly into darkness, and the
thing has finished, for the time being. August 27th, it was
repeated by daylight: if possible, more charming than ever; but not
to be spoken of farther, under penalties. To be mildly forgotten
again, every jot and tittle of it,--except one small insignificant
iota, which, by accident, still makes it remarkable. Namely, that
Collini and the Barberinas were there; and that not only was
Voltaire again there, among the Princes and Princesses; but that
Collini saw Voltaire, and gives us transient sight of him,--thanks
to Collini. Thursday, 27th August, 1750, was the Daylight version
of the Carrouse1; which Collini, if it were of any moment, takes to
have PRECEDED that of the 40,000 Lamps. Sure enough Collini was
there, with eyes open:--
"Madame de Cocceji [so one may call her, though the known alias is
Barberina] had engaged places; she invited me to come and see this
Festivity. We went;" and very grand it was. "The Palace-Esplanade
was changed" by carpentries and draperies "into a vast
Amphitheatre; the slopes of it furnished with benches for the
spectators, and at the four corners of it and at the bottom,
magnificently decorated boxes for the Court." Vast oval
Amphitheatre, the interior arena rectangular, with its Four
Entrances, one for each of the Four Quadrilles. "The assemblage
was numerous and brilliant: all the Court had come from Potsdam
to Berlin.
"A little while before the King himself made appearance, there rose
suddenly a murmur of admiration, and I heard all round me, from
everybody, the name 'Voltaire! Voltaire!' Looking down, I saw
Voltaire accordingly; among a group of great lords, who were
walking over the Arena, towards one of the Court Boxes. He wore a
modest countenance, but joy painted itself in his eyes: you cannot
love glory, and not feel gratefully the prize attached to it,"--
attained as here. "I lost sight of him in few instants," as he
approached his Box "the place where I was not permitting farther
view." [Collini, Mon Sejour, p. 21.]
This was Collini's first sight of that great man (DE CE GRAND
HOMME). With whom, thanks to Barberina, he had, in a day or two,
the honor of an Interview (judgment favorable, he could hope);
and before many months, Accident also favoring, the inexpressible
honor of seeing himself the great man's Secretary,--how far beyond
hope or aspiration, in these Carrousel days!
Voltaire had now been here some Seven Weeks,--arrived 10th July, as
we often note;--after (on his own part) a great deal of haggling,
hesitating and negotiating; which we spare our readers. The poor
man having now become a Quasi-Widower; painfully rallying, with his
whole strength, towards new arrangements,--now was the time for
Friedrich to urge him: "Come to me! Away from all that dismal
imbroglio; hither, I say!" To which Voltaire is not inattentive;
though he hesitates; cannot, in any case, come without delay;--
lingers in Paris, readjusting many things, the poor shipwrecked
being, among kind D'Argentals and friends. Poor Ishmael, getting
gray; and his tent in the desert suddenly carried off by a blast
of wind!
To the legal Widower, M. le Marquis, he behaves in money matters
like a Prince; takes that Paris Domicile, in the Rue Traversiere,
all to himself; institutes a new household there,--Niece Denis to
be female president. Niece Denis, widow without encumbrances;
whom in her married state, wife to some kind of Commissariat-
Officer at Lille, we have seen transiently in that City, her Uncle
lodging with her as he passed. A gadding, flaunting, unreasonable,
would-be fashionable female--(a Du Chatelet without the grace or
genius, and who never was in love with you!)--with whom poor Uncle
had a baddish life in time coming. All which settled, he still
lingers. Widowed, grown old and less adventurous! 'That House in
the Rue Traversiere, once his and Another's, now his alone,--for
the time being, it is probably more like a Mausoleum than a House
to him. And Versailles, with its sulky Trajans, its Crebillon
cabals, what charm is in Versailles? He thinks of going to Italy
for a while; has never seen that fine Country: of going to Berlin
for a while: of going to-- In fact, Berlin is clearly the place
where he will land; but he hesitates greatly about lifting anchor.
Friedrich insists, in a bright, bantering, kindly way; "You were
due to me a year ago; you said always, 'So soon as the lying-in is
over, I am yours:'--and now, why don't you come?"
Friedrich, since they met last, has had some experiences of
Voltaire, which he does not like. Their roads, truly--one adulating
Trajan in Versailles, and growing great by "Farces of the Fair;"
the other battling for his existence against men and devils, Trajan
and Company included--have lain far apart. Their Correspondence
perceptibly languishing, in consequence, and even rumors rising on
the subject, Voltaire wrote once: "Give me a yard of ribbon, Sire
[your ORDER OF MERIT, Sire], to silence those vile rumors!"
Which Friedrich, on such free-and-easy terms, had silently
declined. "A meddlesome, forward kind of fellow; always getting
into scrapes and brabbles!" thinks Friedrich. But is really
anxious, now that the chance offers again, to have such a Levite
for his Priest, the evident pink of Human Intellect; and tries
various incitements upon him;--hits at last (I know not whether by
device or by accident) on one which, say the French Biographers,
did raise Voltaire and set him under way.
A certain M. Baculard d'Arnaud, a conceited, foolish young fellow,
much patronized by Voltaire, and given to write verses, which are
unknown to me, has been, on Voltaire's recommending, "Literary
Correspondent" to Friedrich (Paris Book-Agent and the like) for
some time past; corresponding much with Potsdam, in a way found
entertaining; and is now (April, 1750) actually going thither, to
Friedrich's Court, or perhaps has gone. At any rate, Friedrich--by
accident or by device--had answered some rhymes of this D'Arnaud,
"Yes; welcome, young sunrise, since Voltaire is about to set!"
[ OEuvres de Frederic, xiv. 95 (Verses
"A D'ARNAUD," of date December, 1749.)] I hope it was by device;
D'Arnaud is such a silly fellow; too absurd, to reckon as morning
to anybody's sunset. Except for his involuntary service, for and
against, in this Voltaire Journey, his name would not now be
mentionable at all. "Sunset?" exclaimed Voltaire, springing out of
bed (say the Biographers), and skipping about indignantly in his
shirt: "I will show them I am not set yet!" [Duvernet (Second),
p. 159.] And instantly resolved on the Berlin Expedition. Went to
Compiegne, where the Court then was; to bid his adieus; nay to ask
formally the Royal leave,--for we are Historiographer and titular
Gentleman of the Chamber, and King's servant in a sense. Leave was
at once granted him, almost huffingly; we hope not with too much
readiness? For this is a ticklish point: one is going to Prussia
"on a Visit" merely (though it may be longish); one would not have
the door of France slammed to behind one! The tone at Court did
seem a little succinct, something almost of sneer in it. But from
the Pompadour herself all was friendly; mere witty, cheery
graciosities, and "My Compliments to his Majesty of Prussia,"--
Compliments how answered when they came to hand: "JE NE LA
CONNAIS PAS!"
In short, M. de Voltaire made all his arrangements; got under way;
piously visited Fontenoy and the Battle-fields in passing: and is
here, since July 10th,--in very great splendor, as we see:--on his
Fifth Visit to Friedrich. Fifth; which proved his Last,--and is
still extremely celebrated in the world. Visit much misunderstood
in France and England, down to this day. By no means sorted out
into accuracy and intelligibility; but left as (what is saying a
great deal!) probably the wastest chaos of all the Sections of
Friedrich's History. And has, alone of them, gone over the whole
world; being withal amusing to read, and therefore well and widely
remembered, in that mendacious and semi-intelligible state. To lay
these goblins, full of noise, ignorance and mendacity, and give
some true outline of the matter, with what brevity is consistent
with deciphering it at all, is now our sad task,--laborious,
perhaps disgusting; not impossible, if readers will loyally assist.
Voltaire had taken every precaution that this Visit should succeed,
or at least be no loss to one of the parties. In a preliminary
Letter from Paris,--prose and verse, one of the cleverest
diplomatic pieces ever penned; Letter really worth looking at,
cunning as the song of Apollo, Voltaire symbolically intimates:
"Well, Sire, your old Danae, poor malingering old wretch, is coming
to her Jove. It is Jove she wants, not the Shower of Jove;
nevertheless"--And Friedrich (thank Hanbury, in part, for that bit
of knowledge) had remitted him in hard money 600 pounds "to pay the
tolls on his road." [Walpole, i. 451 ("Had it from Princess Amelia
herself"); see Voltaire to Friedrich, "Paris, 9th June, 1750;"
Friedrich to Voltaire, "Potsdam, 24th May" ( OEuvres de
Voltaire, lxxiv. 158, 155).] As a high gentleman
would; to have done with those base elements of the business.
Nay furthermore, precisely two days before those splendors of the
Carrousel, Friedrich,--in answer to new cunning croakeries and
contrivances ("Sire, this Letter from my Niece, who is inconsolable
that I should think of staying here;" where, finding oneself so
divinized, one is disposed to stay),--has answered him like a King:
By Gold Key of Chamberlain, Cross of the Order of Merit, and
Pension of 20,000 francs (850 pounds) a year,--conveyed in as royal
a Letter of Business as I have often read; melodious as Apollo,
this too, though all in business prose, and, like Apollo, practical
God of the SUN in this case. ["Berlin, 23d August, 1750"
( OEuvres de Frederic, xxii. 255);--Voltaire
to Niece Denis, "24th August" (misprinted "14th"); to D'Argental,
"28th August" ( OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiv.
185, 196).] Dated 23d August, 1750. This Letter of Friedrich's I
fancy to be what Voltaire calls, "Your Majesty's gracious Agreement
with me," and often appeals to, in subsequent troubles. Not quite a
Notarial Piece, on Friedrich's part; but strictly observed by him
as such.
Four days after which, Collini sees Voltaire serenely shining among
the Princes and Princesses of the world; Amphitheatre all
whispering with bated breath, "Voltaire! Voltaire!" But let us hear
Voltaire himself, from the interior of the Phenomenon, at this its
culminating point:--
Voltaire to his D'Argentals,--to Niece Denis even, with whom, if
with no other, he is quite without reserve, in showing the bad and
the good,--continues radiantly eloquent in these first months:
... "Carrousel, twice over; the like never seen for splendor, for
[rather copious on this sublimity]--After which we played ROME
SAUVEE [my Anti-Crebillon masterpiece], in a pretty little Theatre,
which I have got constructed in the Princess Amelia's Antechamber.
I, who speak to you, I played CICERO." Yes; and was manager and
general stage-king and contriver; being expert at this, if at
anything. And these beautiful Theatricals had begun weeks ago, and
still lasted many weeks; [Rodenbeck, "August-October," 1750.]--with
such divine consultings, directings, even orderings of the
brilliant Royalties concerned.--Duvernet (probably on D'Arget's
authority) informs us that "once, in one of the inter-acts, finding
the soldiers allowed him for Pretorian Guards not to understand
their business here," not here, as they did at Hohenfriedberg and
elsewhere, "Voltaire shrilled volcanically out to them [happily
unintelligible): 'F----, Devil take it, I asked for men; and they
have sent me Germans (J'AI DEMANDE DES HOMMES, ET L'ON M'ENVOIE DES
ALLEMANDS)!' At which the Princesses were good-natured enough to
burst into laughter." [Duvernet (Second), p. 162,--time probably
15th October.] Voltaire continues: "There is an English Ambassador
here who knows Cicero's Orations IN CATILINAM by heart;" an
excellent Etonian, surely. "It is not Milord Tyrconnell"
(blusterous Irish Jacobite, OUR Ambassador, note him, fat Valori
having been recalled); no, "it is the Envoy from England,"
Excellency Hanbury himself, who knows his Cicero by heart. "He has
sent me some fine verses on ROME SAUVEE; he says it is my best
work. It is a Piece appropriate for Ministerial people; Madame la
Chanceliere," Cocceji's better half, "is well pleased with it.
[ OEuvres, lxxiv. (LETTERS, to the D'Argentals
and Denis, "20th August-23d September, 1750"), pp. 187, 219, 231,
&c. &c.] And then,"--But enough.
In Princess Amelia's Antechamber, there or in other celestial
places, in Palace after Palace, it goes on. Gayety succeeding
gayety; mere Princesses and Princes doing parts; in ROME SAUVEE,
and in masterpieces of Voltaire's, Voltaire himself acting CICERO
and elderly characters, LUSIGNAN and the like. Excellent in acting,
say the witnesses; superlative, for certain, as Preceptor of the
art,--though impatient now and then. And wears such Jewel-ornaments
(borrowed partly from a Hebrew, of whom anon), such magnificence of
tasteful dress;--and walks his minuet among the Morning Stars. Not
to mention the Suppers of the King: chosen circle, with the King
for centre; a radiant Friedrich flashing out to right and left,
till all kindles into coruscation round him; and it is such a blaze
of spiritual sheet-lightnings,--wonderful to think of; Voltaire
especially electric. Never, or seldom, were seen such suppers;
such a life for a Supreme Man of Letters so fitted with the place
due to him. Smelfungus says:--
"And so your Supreme of Literature has got into his due place at
last,--at the top of the world, namely; though, alas, but for
moments or for months. The King's own Friend; he whom the King
delights to honor. The most shining thing in Berlin, at this
moment. Virtually a kind of PAPA, or Intellectual Father of
Mankind," sneers Smelfungus; "Pope improvised for the nonce.
The new Fridericus Magnus does as the old Pipinus, old Carolus
Magnus did: recognizes his Pope, in despite of the base vulgar;
elevates him aloft into worship, for the vulgar and for everybody!
Carolus Magnus did that thrice-salutary feat [sublimely human, if
you think of it, and for long centuries successful more or less];
Fridericus Magnus, under other omens, unconsciously does the like,
--the best he can! Let the Opera Fiddlers, the Frerons, Travenols
and Desfontaines-of-Sodom's Ghost look and consider!"--
Madame Denis, an expensive gay Lady, still only in her thirties,
improvable by rouge, carries on great work in the Rue Traversiere;
private theatricals, suppers, flirtations with Italian travelling
Marquises;--finds Intendant Longchamp much in her way, with his
rigorous account-books, and restriction to 100 louis per month;
wishes even her Uncle were back, and cautions him, Not to believe
in Friedrich's flattering unctions, or put his trust in Princes at
all. Voltaire, with the due preliminaries, shows Friedrich her
Letter, one of her Letters, [Now lost, as most of them are;
Voltaire's Answer to it, already cited, is "24th August, 1750"
(misprinted "14th August," OEuvres, lxxiv.
185; see IB. lxxv. 135); King Friedrich's PRACTICAL Answer (so
munificent to Denis and Voltaire), "Your Majesty's gracious
Agreement," bore date "August 23d."]--with result as we saw above.
Formey says: "In the Carnival time, which Voltaire usually passed
at Berlin, in the Palace, people paid their court to him as to a
declared Favorite. Princes, Marshals, Ministers of State, Foreign
Ambassadors, Lords of the highest rank, attended his audience;
and were received," says Formey, nowhere free from spite on this
subject, "in a sufficiently lofty style (HAUTEUR ASSEZ
DEDAIGNEUSE). [Formey, Souvenirs, i. 235,
236.] A great Prince had the complaisance to play chess with him;
and to let him win the pistoles that were staked. Sometimes even
the pistole disappeared before the end of the game," continues
Formey, green with spite;--and reports that sad story of the
candle-ends; bits of wax-candle, which should have remained as
perquisite to the valets, but which were confiscated by Voltaire
and sent across to the wax-chandler's. So, doubtless, the spiteful
rumor ran; probably little but spite and fable, Berlin being bitter
in its gossip. Stupid Thiebault repeats that of the candle-ends,
like a thing he had seen (twelve years BEFORE his arrival in those
parts); and adds that Voltaire "put them in his pocket,"--like one
both stupid and sordid. Alas, the brighter your shine, the blacker
is the shadow you cast.
Friedrich, with the knowledge he already had of his yoke-fellow,--
one of the most skittish, explosive, unruly creatures in harness,--
cannot be counted wise to have plunged so heartily into such an
adventure with him. "An undoubted Courser of the Sun!" thought
Friedrich;--and forgot too much the signs of bad going he had
sometimes noticed in him on the common highways. There is no doubt
he was perfectly sincere and simple in all this high treatment of
Voltaire. "The foremost, literary spirit of the world, a man to be
honored by me, and by all men; the Trismegistus of Human
Intellects, what a conquest to have made; how cheap is a little
money, a little patience and guidance, for such solacement and
ornament to one's barren Life!" He had rashly hoped that the dreams
of his youth could hereby still be a little realized; and something
of the old Reinsberg Program become a fruitful and blessed fact.
Friedrich is loyally glad over his Voltaire; eager in all ways to
content him, make him happy; and keep him here, as the Talking
Bird, the Singing Tree and the Golden Water of intelligent mankind;
the glory of one's own Court, and the envy of the world.
"Will teach us the secret of the Muses, too; French Muses, and help
us in our bits of Literature!" This latter, too, is a consideration
with Friedrich, as why should it not,--though by no means the sole
or chief one, as the French give it out to be.
On his side, Voltaire is not disloyal either; but is nothing like
so completely loyal. He has, and continued always to have, not
unmixed with fear, a real admiration for Friedrich, that terrible
practical Doer, with the cutting brilliances of mind and character,
and the irrefragable common sense; nay he has even a kind of love
to him, or something like it,--love made up of gratitude for past
favors, and lively anticipation of future. Voltaire is, by nature,
an attached or attachable creature; flinging out fond boughs to
every kind of excellence, and especially holding firm by old ties
he had made. One fancies in him a mixed set of emotions, direct and
reflex,--the consciousness of safe shelter, were there nothing
more; of glory to oneself, derived and still derivable from this
high man:--in fine, a sum-total of actual desire to live with King
Friedrich, which might, surely, have almost sufficed even for
Voltaire, in a quieter element. But the element was not quiet,--far
from it; nor was Voltaire easily sufficeable!
PERPETUAL PRESIDENT MAUPERTUIS HAS A VISIT FROM ONE KONIG,
OUT OF HOLLAND, CONCERNING THE INFINITELY LITTLE.
Whether Maupertuis, in red wig with yellow bottom, saw these high
gauderies of the Carrousel, the Plays in Princess Amelia's
Antechamber, and the rest of it, I do not know: but if so, he was
not in the top place; nor did anybody take notice of him, as
everybody did of Voltaire. Meanwhile, I have something to quote, as
abridged and distilled from various sources, chiefly from Formey;
which will be of much concernment farther on.
Some four weeks after those Carrousel effulgencies, Perpetual
President Maupertuis had a visit (September 21st, just while the
Sun was crossing the Line; thanks to Formey for the date, who keeps
a Note-book, useful in these intricacies): visit from Professor
Konig, an effective mathematical man from the Dutch parts.
Whom readers have forgotten again; though they saw him once:
in violent quarrel, about the Infinitely Little, with Madame du
Chatelet, Voltaire witnessing with pain;--it was just as they
quitted Cirey together, ten years ago, for these new courses of
adventure. Do readers recall the circumstance? Maupertuis, referee
in that quarrel, had, with a bluntness offensive to the female
mind, declared Konig indisputably in the right; and there had
followed a dryness between the divine Emilie and the Flattener of
the Earth, scarcely to be healed by Voltaire's best efforts.
Konig has gone his road since then; become a fine solid fellow;
Professor in a Dutch University; more latterly Librarian to the
Dutch Stadtholder: still frank of speech, and with a rugged free-
and-easy turn, but of manful manners; really a person of various
culture, and as is still noticeable, of a solid geometric turn of
mind. Having now, as Librarian at the Hague, more leisure and more
money, he has made a run to Berlin,--chiefly or entirely to see his
Maupertuis again, whom he still remembers gratefully as his first
Patron in older times, and a man of sound parts, though rather
blusterous now and then, A little bit of scientific business also
he has with him. Konig is Member of the Berlin Academy, for some
years back; and there is a thing he would speak with the Perpetual
President upon. "Wants nothing else in Berlin," says Formey:
a hearing by the road that Maupertuis was not there, he had
actually turned homewards again: but got truer tidings, and came
on." The more was the pity, as perhaps will appear! "He arrived
September 20th [if you will be particular on cheese-parings];
called on me that day, being lodged in my neighborhood; and next
day, found Maupertuis at home;" [Formey, i. 176-179.]--and flew
into his arms again, like a good boy long absent.
Maupertuis, not many months ago, had, in Two successive Papers, I
think Two, communicated to the Academy a Discovery of Metaphysico-
Mathematical or altogether Metaphysical nature, on the Laws of
Motion;--Discovery which he has, since that, brought to complete
perfection, and sent forth to the Universe at large, in his sublime
little Book of COSMOLOGY; [In La Beaumelle, Vie de
Maupertuis (Paris, 1856), pp. 105-130, confused
account of this "Discovery," and of the gradual Publication of it
to mankind,--very gradual; first of all in the old Paris times;
in the Berlin ACADEMY latterly; and in fine, to all the world, in
this ESSAI DE COSMOLOGIE (Berlin, Summer of 1750).]--grateful
Academy striving to admire, and believe, with its Perpetual
President, that the Discovery was sublime to a degree; second only
to the flattening of the Earth; and would probably stand
thenceforth as a milestone in the Progress of Human Thought.
"Which Discovery, then?" Be not too curious, reader; take only of
it what shall concern you!
It is well known there have been, to the metaphysical head,
difficulties almost insuperable as to How, in the System of Nature,
Motion is? How, in the name of wonder, it can be; and even, Whether
it is at all? Difficulties to the metaphysical head, sticking its
nose into the gutter there;--not difficult to my readers and me,
who can at all times walk across the room, and triumphantly get
over them. But stick your nose into any gutter, entity, or object,
this of Motion or another, with obstinacy,--you will easily drown,
if that be your determination!--Suffice it for us to know in this
matter, that Maupertuis, intensely watching Nature, has discovered,
That the key of her enigma (or at least the ultimate central DOOR,
which hides all her Motional enigmas, the key to WHICH cannot even
be imagined as discoverable!) is, that "Nature is superlatively
THRIFTY in this affair of motion;" that she employs, for every
Motion done or do-able, "a MINIMUM OF ACTION;" and that, if you
well understand this, you will, at least, announce all her
procedures in one proposition, and have found the DOOR which leads
to everything. Which will be a comfort to you; still looking vainly
for the key, if there is still no key conceivable.
Perpetual President Maupertuis, having surprised Nature in this
manner, read Papers upon it to an Academy listening with upturned
eyes; new Papers, perfected out of old,--for he has long been
hatching these Phoenix-eggs; and has sent them out complete, quite
lately, in a little Book called COSMOLOGIE, where alone I have had
the questionable benefit of reading them. Grandly brief, as if
coming from Delphi, the utterance is; loftily solemn, elaborately
modest, abstruse to the now human mind; but intelligible, had it
only been worth understanding:--a painful little Book, that
COSMOLOGIE, as the Perpetual President's generally are. "Minimum of
Action, LOI D'EPARGNE, Law of Thrift," he calls this sublime
Discovery;--thinks it will be Sovereign in Natural Theology as
well: "For how could Nature be a Save-all, without Designer
present?"--and speaks, of course, among other technical points,
about "VIS VIVA, or Velocity multiplied by the Square of the Time:"
which two points, "LOI D'EPARGNE," and that "the VIS VIVA is always
a Minimum," the reader can take along with him; I will permit him
to shake the others into Limbo again, as forgettable by human
nature at this epoch and henceforth.
In La Beaumelle's Vie de Maupertuis (printed
at last, Paris, 1856, after lying nearly a century in manuscript,
an obtuse worthless leaden little Book), there is much loud droning
and detailing, about this COSMOLOGIE, this sublime "Discovery," and
the other sublime Discoveries, Insights and Apocalyptic Utterances
of Maupertuis; though in so confused a fashion, it is seldom you
can have the poor pleasure of learning exactly when, or except by
your own severe scrutiny, exactly what. For reasons that will
appear, certain of those Apocalyptic Utterances by Perpetual
President Maupertuis have since got a new interest, and one has
actually a kind of wish to read the IPSISSIMA VERBA of them, at
this date! But in La Beaumelle (his modern Editor lying fast asleep
throughout) there is no vestige of help. Nay Maupertuis's own Book,
[ OEuvres de Maupertuis, Lyon, 1756, 4 vols.
4to.] luxurious cream-paper Quartos, or Octaves made four-square by
margin,--which you buy for these and the cognate objects,--proves
altogether worthless to you. The Maupertuis Quartos are not
readable for their own sake (solemnly emphatic statement of what
you already know; concentrated struggle to get on wing, and failure
by so narrow a miss; struggle which gets only on tiptoe, and won't
cease wriggling and flapping); and then (to your horror) they prove
to be carefully cleaned of all the Maupertuis-VOLTAIRE matter;--
edition being SUBSEQUENT to that world-famous explosion.
CAVEAT EMPTOR.--Our Excerpt proceeds:--
"Industrious Konig, like other mathematical people, has been
listening to these Oracles on the 'Law of Minimum,' by the
Perpetual President; and grieves to find, after study, That said
Law does not quite hold; that in fact it is, like Descartes's old
key or general door, worth little or nothing; as Leibnitz long ago
seems to have transiently recognized. Konig has put his strictures
on paper: but will not dream of publishing, till the Perpetual
President have examined them and satisfied himself; and that is
Konig's business at present, as he knocks on Maupertuis, while Sol
is crossing the Line. Maupertuis has a House of the due style:
Wife a daughter of Minister Borck's (high Borcks, 'old as the
DIUVEL'); no children;--his back courts always a good deal dirty
with pelicans, bustards, perhaps snakes and other zoological
wretches, which sometimes intrude into the drawing-rooms, otherwise
very fine. A man of some whims, some habits; arbitrary by nature,
but really honest, though rather sublimish in his interior, with
red Wig and yellow bottom.
"Konig, all filial gladness, is received gladly;--though, by
degrees, with some surprise, on the paternal part, to find Konig
ripened out of son, client and pupil, into independent posture of a
grown man. Frankly certain enough about himself, and about the
axioms of mathematics. Standing, evidently, on his own legs;
kindly as ever, but on these new terms,--in fact rather an
outspoken free-and-easy fellow (I should guess), not thinking that
offence can be taken among friends. Formey confesses, this was
uncomfortable to Maupertuis; in fact, a shock which he could not
recover from. They had various meetings, over dinner aud otherwise,
at the Perpetual President's, for perhaps two weeks at this time
(dates all to be had in Formey's Note-book, if anybody would
consult); in the whole course of which the shock to the Perpetual
President increased, instead of diminishing. Republican freedom and
equality is evidently Konig's method; Konig heeds not a whit the
oracular talent or majestic position of Maupertuis; argues with the
frankest logic, when he feels dissent;--drives a majestic Perpetual
President, especially in the presence of third parties, much out of
patience. Thus, one evening, replying to some argument of the
Perpetual President's, he begins: 'My poor friend, MON PAUVRE AMI,
don't you perceive, then'-- Upon which Maupertuis sprang from his
chair, violently stamping, and pirouetted round the room, 'Poor
friend, poor friend? are you so rich: then!' frank Konig merely
grinning till the paroxysm passed. [Formey, i. 177.] Konig went
home again, RE INFECTA about the end of the month."
Such a Konig--had better not have come! As to his strictures on the
LAW OF THRIFT, the arguings on them, alone together, or with
friends by, merely set Maupertuis pirouetting: and as to the Konig
Manuscripts on them "to be published in the Leipzig ACTA, after
your remarks and permission," Maupertuis absolutely refused to look
at said Manuscripts: "Publish them there, here, everywhere, in the
Devil and his Grandmother's name; and then there is an end,
Monsieur!" Konig went his ways therefore, finding nothing else for
it; published his strictures, in the Leipzig ACTA in March next,--
and never saw Maupertuis again, for one result, out of several that
followed! I have no doubt he was out to Voltaire, more than once,
in this fortnight; and eat "the King's roast" pleasantly with that
eminent old friend. Voltaire always thought him a BON GARCON
(justly, by all the evidence I have); and finds his talk agreeable,
and his Berlin news--especially that of Maupertuis and his
explosive pirouettings. Adieu, Herr Professor; you know not, with
your Leipzig ACTA and Fragment of Leibnitz, what an explosion you
are preparing!
Chapter VII.
M. DE VOLTAIRE HAS A PAINFUL JEW-LAWSUIT.
Voltaire's Terrestrial Paradise at Berlin did not long continue
perfect. Scarcely had that grand Carrousel vanished in the azure
firmaments, when little clouds began rising in its stead;
and before long, black thunder-storms of a very strange and even
dangerous character.
It must have been a painful surprise to Friedrich to hear from his
Voltaire, some few weeks after those munificences, That he,
Voltaire, was in very considerable distress of mind, from the bad,
not to call it the felonious and traitorous, conduct of
M. D'Arnaud,--once Friedrich's shoeing-horn and "rising-sun" for
Voltaire's behoof; now a vague flaunting creature, without
significance to Friedrich or anybody! That D'Arnaud had done this
and done that, of an Anti-Voltairian, treasonous nature;--and that,
in short, life was impossible in the neighborhood of such a
D'Arnaud! "D'Arnaud has corrupted my Clerk (Prince Henri hungering
in vain for LA PUCELLE, has got sight of it, in this way);
[Clerk was dismissed accordingly (one Tinois, an ingenious
creature),--and COLLINI appointed in his stead.] D'Arnaud has been
gossiping to Freron and the Paris Newspapers; D'Arnaud has"
[Voltaire to Friedrich ( OEuvres de Frederic,
xxii. 257), undated, "November, 1750."]-- Has, in effect, been a
flaunting young fool; of dissolute, esurient, slightly profligate
turn; occasionally helping in the Theatricals, and much studious to
make himself notable, and useful to the Princely kind. A D'Arnaud
of nearly no significance, to Friedrich or to anybody. A D'Arnaud
whose bits of fooleries and struttings about, in the peacock or
jackdaw way, might surely have been below the notice of
a Trismegistus!
Friedrich, painfully made sensible what a skinless explosive
Trismegistus he has got on hand, answers, I suppose, in words
little or nothing,--in Letters, I observe, answers absolutely
nothing, to Voltaire repeating and re-repeating;--does simply
dismiss D'Arnaud (a "BON DIABLE," as Voltaire, to impartial people,
calls him), or accept D'Arnaud's demission, and cut the poor fool
adrift. Who sallies out into infinite space, to Paris latterly
("alive there in 1805"); and claims henceforth perpetual oblivion
from us and mankind. And now there will be peace in our garden of
the gods, and perpetual azure will return?
Alas, D'Arnaud is not well gone, when there has begun brewing in
threefold secrecy a mass of galvanic matter, which, in few weeks
more, filled the Heavens with miraculous foul gases and the
blackness of darkness;--which, in short, exploded about New-year's
time, as the world-famous VOLTAIRE-HIRSCH LAWSUIT, still
remembered, though only as a portent and mystery, by observant
on-lookers. Of which it is now our sad duty to say something;
though nowhere, in the Annals of Jurisprudence, is there a more
despicable thing, or a deeper involved in lies and deliriums by
current reporters of it, about which the sane mind can be called
upon accidentally to speak a word. Beaten, riddled, shovelled,
washed in many waters, by a patient though disgusted Predecessor in
this field, there lies by me a copious but wearisome Narrative of
this matter;--the more vivid portions of which, if rightly
disengaged, and shown in sequence, may satisfy the curious.
Duvernet (who, I can guess, had talked with D'Arget on the subject)
has, alone of the French Biographers, some glimmer of knowledge
about it; Duvernet admits that it was a thing of Illegal Stock-
jobbing; that--
1. "That M. de Voltaire had agreed with a Jew named Hirsch to go
to Dresden and, illegally, PURCHASE a good lot of STEUER-SCHEINE
[Saxon Exchequer Bills, which are payable in gold to a BONA FIDE
PRUSSIAN holding them, but are much in discount otherwise, as
readers may remember]; and given Hirsch a Draft on Paris, due after
some weeks, for payment of the same; Hirsch leaving him a stock of
jewels in pledge till the STEUER-SCHEINE themselves come to hand.
2. "That Hirsch, having things of his own in view with the money,
sent no STEUER-SCHEINE from Dresden, nothing but vague lying talk
instead of STEUER: so that Voltaire's suspicions naturally
kindling, he stopped payment of the Paris Draft, and ordered Hirsch
to come home at once.
3. "That Hirsch coming, a settlement was tried: 'Give me back my
Draft on Paris, you objectionable blockhead of a Hirsch; there are
your Diamonds, there is something even for your expenses (some fair
moiety, I think); and let me never see your unpleasant face again!'
To which Hirsch, examining the diamonds, answered [says Duvernet,
not substantially incorrect hitherto, though stepping along in
total darkness, and very partial on Voltaire's behalf],--Hirsch,
examining the diamonds, answered, 'But you have changed some of
them! I cannot take these!'--and drove Voltaire quite to despair,
and into the Law-Courts; which imprisoned Hirsch, and made him
do justice." [Duvernet (T.J.D.V.), 170, 173, 175:--vague utterly;
dateless (tries one date, and is mistaken even in the Year);
wrong in nearly every detail; "the 'STAIRE or STEUER was a BANK?"
&c. &c.]
In which last clause, still more in the conclusion, that it was "to
the triumph of Voltaire," Duvernet does substantially mistake!
And indeed, except as the best Parisian reflex of this matter, his
Account is worth nothing:--though it may serve as Introduction to
the following irrefragable Documents and more explicit featurings.
We learn from him, and it is the one thing we learn of credible,
That "Voltaire, when it came to Law Procedures, begged Maupertuis
to speak for him to M. Jarriges," a Prussian Frenchman, "one of the
Judges; and that Maupertuis answered, 'I cannot interfere in a bad
business (ME MELER D'UNE MAUVAISE AFFAIRE).'" The other French
Biographies, definable as "IGNOR-AMUS speaking in a loud voice to
IGNOR-ATIS," require to be altogether swept aside in this matter.
Even "Clog." jumbling Voltaire's undated LETTERS into confusion
thrice confounded, and droning out vituperatively in the dark,
becomes a MINUS quantity in these Friedrich affairs. In regard to
the Hirsch Process, our one irrefragable set of evidences is:
The Prussian LAW-REPORT by KLEIN,--especially the Documents
produced in Court, and the Sentence given. [Ernst Ferdinand Klein,
Annalen der Gesetzgebung und Rechtsgelehrsamkeit in den
Preussischen Staaten (Berlin und Stettin), 1790,"
v. 215-260.] Other lights are to be gathered, with severe scrutiny
and caution, from the circumambient contemporary rumor,--especially
from the PREFACE to a "Comedy" so called of "TANTALE EN PROCES
(Tantalus," Voltaire, "at Law");--which PREFACE is evidently
Hirsch's own Story, put into language for him by some humane
friend, and addressed to a "clear-seeing Public." [TANTALE EN
PROCES (ascribed to Friedrich himself, by some wonderful persons!)
is in Supplement aux OEuvres Posthumes de Frederic II.
(Cologne, 1789), i. 319 et seq. Among the weakest of
Comedies (might be by D'Arnaud, or some such hand); nothing in it
worth reading except the Preface.] "And in fine," says my
Manuscript, "by sweeping out the distinctly false, and well
discriminating the indubitable from what is still in part
dubitable, sufficient twilight [abridgable in a high degree, I
hope!] rises over the Affair, to render it visible in all its
main features."
THE VOLTAIRE-HIRSCH TRANSACTION: PART I. ORIGIN OF LAWSUIT
(10th November-25th December, 1750).
"Saxon STEUER-SCHEIN, some readers know, is, in the rough,
equivalent to Exchequer Bill. Payable at the Saxon Treasury;
to Prussians, in gold; to all other men, in paper only,--which
(thanks to Bruhl and his unheard-of expenditures and financierings)
is now at a discount say of 25, or even 30 per cent. By Article
Eleventh of the Dresden TREATY OF PEACE, King Friedrich, if our
readers have not forgotten, got stipulated, That all Prussian
holders of these SCHEINE should be paid in gold; interest at the
due days; and at the due days principal itself:--in gold they,
whatever became of others. No farther specifications, as to proof,
method, limits or conditions of any kind, occur in regard to this
Eleventh Article; which is a just one, beyond doubt, but most
carelessly drawn up. Apparently it trusts altogether to the
personal honesty of all Prussian subjects: 'Prove yourself a
Prussian subject, and we pay your Steuer-Schein in real money.'
But now if a Saxon or other Non-Prussian, who can get no payment
save in paper, were to have his Note smuggled or trafficked over
into Prussia, and presented as a Prussian one? In our time, such
traffic would start on the morrow morning; and in a week or two,
all Notes whatsoever would be presented as Prussian, payable in
gold! Not so in those days;--though a small contraband of that kind
does by degrees threaten to establish itself, and Friedrich had to
publish severe rescripts (one before this Hirsch-Voltaire business,
[10th August, 1748 (Seyfarth, i. 62).] one still severer after),
and menace it down again. The malpractice seems to have proved
menaceable in that manner; nor was any new arrangement made upon
it,--no change, till the Steuer-Scheine, by their gradual terms,
were all paid either in real money or imaginary, and thus, in the
course of years, the thing burnt to the socket, and went out."
Voltaire's rash Adventure, dangerous Navigation and gradual Wreck,
in this Forbidden Sea of Steuer-Scheine,--will become conceivable
to readers, on study diligent enough of the following Documents and
select Details:--
DOCUMENT FIRST (a small Missive, in Voltaire's hand).
"Je prie instamment monsieur hersch de venir demain mardi matin a
potsdam pour affaire pressante, et d'aporter (SIC) avec luy les
diamants qui doivent servir pour la representation de la tragedie
qui se jouera a cinq heures de soir chez S.A.R. Monseigneur le
Prince henri
"Ce lundy a midy. VOLTAIRE."
Which being interpreted, rightly spelt, and dated (as by chance we
can do) with distinctness, will run as follows in English:--
"POTSDAM, Monday, 9th November, 1750.
"I earnestly request Mr. Hirsch to come to-morrow Tuesday morning
to Potsdam, on business that is urgent; and to bring with him the
Diamonds needed for the Tragedy which is to be represented, at five
in the evening, in His Royal Highness Prince Henry's Apartment."
[Klein, v. 260.]
"On Tuesday the 10th," say the Old Newspapers, "was ROME SAUVEE;"--
with Voltaire, perceptible there as "CICERON," [Rodenbeck, i. 209.]
in due splendor of diamonds; Hirsch having no doubt been punctual.
A glorious enough Cicero;--and such a piece of "urgent business"
done with your Hirsch, just before emerging on the stage!
"Hirsch, in that NARRATIVE, describes himself as a young innocent
creature. Not very old, we will believe: but as to innocence!--For
certain, he is named Abraham Hirsch, or Hirschel: a Berlin Jew of
the Period; whom one inclines to figure as a florid oily man, of
Semitic features, in the prime of life; who deals much in jewels,
moneys, loans, exchanges, all kinds of Jew barter; whether
absolutely in old clothes, we do not know--certainly not unless
there is a penny to be turned. The man is of oily Semitic type, not
old in years,--there is a fraternal Hirsch, and also a paternal,
who is head of the firm;--and this young one seems to be already
old in Jew art. Speaks French and other dialects, in a Hebrew,
partially intelligible manner; supplies Voltaire with diamonds for
his stage-dresses, as we perceive. To all appearance, nearly
destitute of human intellect, but with abundance of vulpine
instead. Very cunning; stupid, seemingly, as a mule otherwise;--
and, on the whole, resembling in various points of character a mule
put into breeches, and made acquainted with the uses of money.
He is come 'on pressing business,'--perhaps not of stage-diamonds
alone? Here now is DOCUMENT SECOND; nearly of the same date; may be
of the very same;--more likely is a few days later, and betokens
mysterious dialogue and consultation held on Tuesday 10th. It is in
two hands: written on some scrap or TORN bit of paper, to judge by
the length of the lines.
DOCUMENT SECOND.
"In Voltaire's hand, this part:--
'Savoir s'il est encore tems de declarer les billets qu'on
a sur la steure. si on en specifie le numero dans la declaration.'
'If it is still time to declare [to announce in Saxony and demand
payment for] Notes one holds on the Steuer? If one is to specify
the No. in the declaration?'
"In Hirsch's hand, this part:--
'l'on peut declarer des billets sur la steure, qu'on a en
depost en pays etranger, et dont on ne pourra savoir le numero que
dans quinze jours ou trois Semaines.' [Klein, 259.]
'One can declare Notes on the Steuer, which one holds in deposit in
Foreign Countries; and of which one cannot state the No. till after
a fortnight or three weeks.'
"Which of these Two was the Serpent, which the Eve, in this STEUER-
SCHEIN Tree of Knowledge, that grew in the middle of Paradise,
remains entirely uncertain. Hirsch, of course, says it was
Voltaire; Voltaire (not aware that DOCUMENT SECOND remained in
existence) had denied that his Hirsch business was in any way
concerned with STEUER;--and must have been a good deal struck, when
DOCUMENT SECOND came to light; though what could he do but still
deny! Hirsch asserts himself to have objected the 'illegality, the
King's anger;' but that Voltaire answered in hints about his favor
with the King; 'about his power to make one a Court-Jeweller,' if
he liked; and so at last tempted the baby innocence of Hirsch;--for
the rest, admits that the Steuer-Notes were expected to yield a
Profit--of 35 per cent:--and, in fact, a dramatic reader can
imagine to himself dialogue enough, at different times, going on,
partly by words, partly by hint, innuendo and dumb-show, between
this Pair of Stage-Beauties. But, for near a fortnight after
DOCUMENT FIRST, there is nothing dated, or that can be clearly
believed,--till,
"MONDAY, 23d NOVEMBER, 1750. It is credibly certain the Jew Hirsch
came again, this day, to the Royal Schloss of Potsdam, to
Voltaire's apartment there [right overhead of King Friedrich's, it
is!]--where, after such dialogue as can be guessed at, there was
handed to Hirsch by Voltaire, in the form of Two negotiable Bills,
a sum of about 2,250 pounds; with which the Jew is to make at once
for Dresden, and buy Steuer-Scheine. [Hirsch's Narrative, in
Preface to Tantale en Proces, p. 340.]
Steuer-Scheine without fail: 'but in talking or corresponding on
the matter, we are always to call them FURS or DIAMONDS,'--mystery
of mysteries being the rule for us. This considerable sum of 2,250
pounds may it not otherwise, contrives Voltaire, be called a 'Loan'
to Jeweller Hirsch, so obliging a Jeweller, to buy 'Furs' or
'Diamonds' with? At a gain of 35 per 100 Pieces, there will be
above 800 pounds to me, after all expenses cleared: a very pretty
stroke of business do-able in few days!"--
"Monday, 23d November:" The beautiful Wilhelmina, one remarks, is
just making her packages; right sad to end such a Visit as this had
been! Thursday night, from her first sleeping-place, there is a
touching Farewell to her Brother;--tender, melodiously sorrowful,
as the Song of the Swan. [Wilhelmina to Friedrich, "Brietzen, 26th
November, JOUR FUNESTE POUR MOI" ( OEuvres de Frederic,
xxvii. i. 197).] To Voltaire she was always good;
always liked Voltaire. Voltaire would be saying his Adieus, in
state, among the others, to that high Being,--just in the hours
while such a scandalous Hirsch-Concoction went, on underground!
"As to the Two Bills and Voltaire's security for them, readers are
to note as follows. Bill FIRST is a Draft, on Voltaire's Paris
Banker for 40,000 livres (about 1,600 pounds), not payable for some
weeks: 'This I lend you, Monsieur Hirsch; mind, LEND you,--to buy
Furs!' 'Yes, truly, what we call Furs;--and before the Bill falls
payable, there will be effects for it in Monseigneur de Voltaire's
hand; which is security enough for Monseigneur.' The SECOND Bill,
again"--Truth is, there were in succession two Second Bills, an
INTENDED-Second (of this same Monday 23d), which did not quite
suit, and an ACTUAL-Second (two days later), which did. INTENDED-
Second Bill was one for 4,000 thalers (about 600 pounds), drawn by
Voltaire on the Sieur Ephraim,--a very famous Jew of Berlin now and
henceforth, with whom as money-changer, if not yet otherwise (which
perhaps Ephraim thinks unlucky), Voltaire, it would seem, is in
frequent communication. This Bill, Ephraim would not accept;
told Hirsch he owed M. de Voltaire nothing; "turned me rudely
away," says Hirsch (two of a trade, and no friends, he and I!)--so
that there is nothing to be said of this Ephraim Bill; and except
as it elucidates some dark portions of the whirlpools, need not
have been noticed at all. "Hirsch," continues my Authority, "got
only Two available Bills; the first on Paris for 1,600 pounds,
payable in some weeks; and, after a day or two, this other: The
ACTUAL BILL SECOND; which is a Draft for 4,430 thalers (about 650
pounds), by old Father Hirsch, head of the Firm, on Voltaire
himself:--'Furs too with that, Monsieur Hirsch, at the rate of 35
per piece, you understand?' 'Yea, truly, Monseigneur!'--Draft
accepted by Voltaire, and the cash for it now handed to Hirsch Son:
the only absolutely ready money he has yet got towards the affair.
"For these Two Bills, especially for this Second, I perceive,
Voltaire holds borrowed jewels (borrowed in theatrical times, or
partly bought, from the Hirsch Firm, and not paid for), which make
him sure till he see the STEUER Papers themselves.--(And now off,
my good Sieur Hirsch; and know that if you please ME, there are--
things in my power which would suit a man in the Jeweller and
Hebrew line!' Hirsch pushes home to Berlin; primed and loaded
in this manner; Voltaire naturally auxious enough that the shot
may hit. Alas, the shot will not even go off, for some time:
an ill omen!
"SUNDAY, 29th NOVEMBER, Hirsch, we hear, is still in Berlin.
Fancy the humor of Voltaire, after such a week as last! TUESDAY,
December 1st) Hirsch still is not off: 'Go, you son of Amalek!'
urges Voltaire; and sends his Servant Picard, a very sharp fellow,
for perhaps the third time,--who has orders now, as Hirsch
discovers, to stay with him, not quit sight of him till he do go.
[Hirsch's Narrative; see Voltaire's Letter to D'Arget (
OEuvres, lxiv. 11).] Hirsch's hour of departure for
Dresden is not mentioned in the ACTS; but I guess he could hardly
get over Wednesday, with Picard dogging him on these terms;
and must have taken the diligence on Wednesday night: to arrive in
Dresden about December 4th. 'Well; at least, our shot is off;
has not burst out, and lodged in our person here,--thanked be all
the gods!'
"Off, sure enough:--and what should we say if the whole matter were
already oozing out; if, on this same Sunday evening, November 29th)
not quite a week's time yet, the matter (as we learn long
afterwards) had been privately whispered to his Majesty:
'That Voltaire has sent off a Jew to buy Steuer-Scheine, and has
promised to get him made Court-Jeweller!' [Voltaire,
OEuvres, lxxiv. 314 ("Letter to Friedrich, February,
1751,"--AFTER Catastrophe).], So; within a week, and before Hirsch
is even gone! For men are very porous; weighty secrets oozing out
of them, like quicksilver through clay jars. I could guess, Hirsch,
by way of galling insolent Ephraim, had blabbed something: and in
the course of five days, it has got to the very King,--this
Kammerherr Voltaire being such a favorite and famous man as never
was; the very bull's-eye of all kinds of Berlin gossip in these
days. 'Hm, Steuer-Scheine, and the Jew Hirsch to be Court-Jeweller,
you say?' thinks the King, that Sunday night; but locks the rumor
in his Royal mind, he, for his part; or dismisses it as incredible:
'There ought to be impervious vessels too, among the porous!'
Voltaire notices nothing particular, or nothing that he speaks of
as particular. This must have been a horrid week to him, till
Hirsch got away." Hirsch is away (December 2d); in Dresden, safe
enough; but--
"But, the fortnight that follows is conceivable as still worse.
Hirsch writing darkly, nothing to the purpose; Voltaire driving
often into Berlin, hearing from Ephraim hints about, 'No connection
with that House;' 'If Monseigneur have intrusted Hirsch with
money,--may there be a good account of it!' and the like.
Black Care devouring Monseigueur; but nothing definite; except the
fact too evident, That Hirsch does not send or bring the smallest
shadow of Steuer-Scheine,--'Peltries,' or 'Diamonds,' we mean,--or
any value whatever for that Paris Bill of ours, payable shortly,
and which he has already got cashed in Dresden. Nothing but
excuses, prevarications; stupid, incoherently deceptive jargon, as
of a mule intent on playing fox with you. Vivid Correspondence is
conceivable; but nothing of it definite to us, except this sample"
(which we give translated):--
DOCUMENT THIRD (torn fraction in Voltaire's hand: To Hirsch,
doubtless; early in December). ... "Not proper (IL NE FALLAIT PAS)
to negotiate Bills of Exchange, and never produce a single
diamond"--bit of peltry, or ware of any kind, you son of Amalek!
"Not proper to say: I have got money for your bills of exchange,
and I bring you nothing back; and I will repay your money when you
shall no longer be here [in Germany at all]. Not proper to promise
at 35 louis, and then say 30. To say 30, and then next morning 25.
You should at least have produced goods (IL FALLAIT EN DONNER) at
the price current; very easy to do when one was on the spot.
All your procedures have been faults hitherto. [Klein, v. 259.]
"These are dreadful symptoms. Steuer-Notes, promised at 35
discount, are not to be had except at 30. Say 30 then, and get done
with it, mule of a scoundrel! Next day the 30 sinks to 25; and not
a Steuer-Note, on any terms, comes to hand. And the mule of a
scoundrel has drawn money, in Dresden yonder, for my Bill on
Paris,--excellent to him for trade of his own! What is to be done
with such an Ass of Balaam? He has got the bit in his teeth, it
would seem. Heavens, he too is capable of stopping short, careless
of spur and cudgel; and miraculously speaking to a NEW Prophet
[strange new "Revealer of the Lord's Will," in modern dialect], in
this enlightened Eighteenth Century itself!--One thing the new
Prophet, can do: protest his Paris Bill.
"DECEMBER 12th [our next bit of certainty], Voltaire writes, haste,
haste, to Paris, 'Don't pay;' and intimates to Hirsch, 'You will
have to return your Dresden Banker his money for that Paris Bill.
At Paris I have protested it, mark me; and there it never will be
paid to him or you. And you must come home again instantly, job
undone, lies not untold, you--!' Hirsch, with money in hand,
appears not to have wanted for a briskish trade of his own in the
Dresden marts. But this of cutting off his supplies brings him
instantly back:"--and at Berlin, DECEMBER 16th, new facts emerge
again of a definite nature.
"WEDNESDAY, 16th DECEMBER, 1750. 'To-day the King with Court and
Voltaire come to Berlin for the Carnival;' [Rodenbeck, i. 209.]
to-day also Voltaire, not in Carnival humor, has appointed his Jew
to meet him. In the Royal Palace itself,--we hope, well remote from
Friedrich's Apartment!--this sordid conference, needing one's
choicest diplomacy withal, and such exquisite handling of bit and
spur, goes on. And probably at great length. Of which, as the
FINALE, and one clear feature significant to the fancy, here is,--
for record of what they call 'COMPLETE SETTLEMENT,' which it was
far from turning out to be:--
DOCUMENT FOURTH (in Hirsch's hand, First Piece of it).
"'Pour quittance generale promettant de rendre a Mr. de
Voltaire tous billets, ordres et lettres de change a moy donnez
jusqu'a ce jour, 16 Decembre, 1750.
"'Account all settled; I promising to return M. de Voltaire all
Letters, Orders and Bills of Exchange given me to this day, 16th
December, 1750.
[Hirsch signs. But you have forgotten something, Monsieur Hirsch!
Whereupon]
et promets de donner a Mr. de Voltaire dans le jour de
demain ou apres au plustard deux cent guatre-vingt frederics d'or
au lieu de deux cent quatre-vingt louis d'or, que je lui ai payez,
le tout pour quittance generale, ce 16 Decembre, 1750, a berlin
And promise to give M. de Voltaire, in the course of to-morrow, or
the day after to-morrow at latest, 280 FREDERICS D'OR, instead of
280 LOUIS D'OR [gold FREDERICS the preferabe coin, say experts]
which I have now paid him; whereby All will be settled.
[Hirsch again signs; but has again forgotten something, most
important thing. And]
je lui remettrai surtout les 40,000 livres de billets de
change sur paris qu'il mavoit donnez et fiez'
I will especially return him the Bill on Paris for 40,000 livres
(1,600 pounds) which he had given and trusted to me,'--but has
since protested, as is too evident.
[and Hirsch signs for the last time]." [Klein, pp. 258, 260.]--
Symptomatic, surely, of a haggly settlement, these THREE shots
instead of one!--"Voltaire's return is:--
"'Pour quittance generale de tout compte solde entre nous,
tout paye au sieur abraham hersch a berlin, 16 Decembre,
1750.--Voltaire'
"'Account all settled between us, payment of the Sieur Abraham
Hirsch in full: Berlin, 16th Deember, 1750.'
[which Second Piece, we perceive, is to lie in Hirsch's hand, to
keep, if he find it valuable].
"This 'COMPLETE SETTLEMENT,'--little less than miraculous to
Voltaire and us,--one finds, after sifting, to have been the fruit
of Voltaire's exquisite skill in treating and tuning his Hirsch (no
harshness of rebuke, rather some gleam of hope, of future bargains,
help at Court): (Your expenses; compensation for protesting of that
Bill on Paris? Tush, cannot we make all that good! In the first
place, I will BUY of you these Jewels [this one discovers to have
been the essence of the operation!], all or the best part of them,
which I have here in pawn for Papa's Bill: 650 pounds was it not?
Well, suppose I on the instant take 450 pounds worth, or so, of
these Jewels (I want a great many jewels); and you to pay me down a
200 or so of gold LOUIS as balance,--gold LOUIS, no, we will say
FREDERICS rather. There now, that is settled. Nothing more between
us but settles itself, if we continue friends!' Upon which Hirsch
walked home, thankful for the good job in Jewels; wondering only
what the Allowance for Expenses and Compensation will be.
And Voltaire steps out, new-burnished, into the Royal Carnival
splendors, with a load rolled from his mind.
"This COMPLETE SETTLEMENT, meanwhile, rests evidently on two legs,
both of which are hollow. 'What will the handsome Compensation be,
I wonder?' thinks Hirsch;--and is horror-struck to find shortly,
that Voltaire considers 60 thalers (about 9 pounds) will be the
fair sum! 'More than ten times that!' is Hirsch's privately fixed
idea. On the other hand, Voltaire has been asking himself, 'My 450
pounds worth of Jewels, were they justly valued, though?'
Jew Ephraim (exaggerative and an enemy to this Hirsch House)
answers, 'Justly? I would give from 300 pounds to 250 pounds for
them!'--So that the legs both crumbling to powder, Complete
Settlement crashes down into chaos: and there ensues,"--But we must
endeavor to be briefer!
There ensues, for about a week following, such an inextricable
scramble between the Sieur Hirsch and M. de Voltaire as,--as no
reader, not himself in the Jew-Bill line, or paid for understanding
it, could consent to have explained to him. Voltaire, by way of
mending the bad jewel-bargain, will buy of Hirsch 200 pounds worth
more jewels; gets the new 200 pounds worth in hand, cannot quite
settle what articles will suit: "This, think you? That, think you?"
And intricately shuffles them about, to Hirsch and back.
Hirsch, singular to notice, holds fast by that Protested Paris
Bill; on frivolous pretexts, always forgets to bring that:
"May have its uses, that, in a Court of Justice yet!"
Meetings there are, almost daily, in the Voltaire Palace-Apartment;
DECEMBER 19th and DECEMBER 24th) there are Two DOCUMENTS (which we
must spare the reader, though he will hear of them again, as highly
notable, especially of one of them, as notable in the extreme!)--
indicating the abstrusest jewel-bargainings, scramblings,
re-bargainings.
"My Jewels are truly valued!" asseverates Hirsch always: "Ephraim
is my enemy; ask Herr Reklam, chief Jeweller in Berlin, an
impartial man!" The meetings are occasionally of stormy character;
Voltaire's patience nearly out: "But did n't I return you that
Topaz Ring, value 75 pounds? And you have NOT deducted it; you--!"
"One day, Picard and he pulled a Ring [doubtless this Topaz] off my
finger," says the pathetic Hirsch, "and violently shoved me out of
the room, slamming their door,"--and sent me home, along the
corridors, in a very scurvy humor! Thus, under a skin of second
settlement, there are two galvanic elements, getting ever more
galvanic, which no skin of settlement can prevent exploding
before long.
Explosion there accordingly was; most sad and dismal; which rang
through all the Court circles of Berlin; and, like a sound of
hooting and of weeping mixed, is audible over seas to this day.
But let not the reader insist on tracing the course of it
henceforth. Klein, though faithful and exact, is not a Pitaval;
and we find in him errors of the press. The acutest Actuary might
spend weeks over these distracted Money-accounts, and inconsistent
Lists of Jewels bought and not bought; and would be unreadable if
successful. Let us say, The business catches fire at this point;
the Voltaire-Hirsch theatre is as if blown up into mere whirlwinds
of igneous rum and smoky darkness. Henceforth all plunges into
Lawsuit, into chaos of conflicting lies,--undecipherable, not worth
deciphering. Let us give what few glimpses of the thing are clearly
discernible at their successive dates, and leave the rest to
picture itself in the reader's fancy.
It appears, that Meeting of DECEMBER 24th, above alluded to, was
followed by another on Christmas-day, which proved the final one.
Final total explosion took place at this new meeting;--which, we
find farther, was at Chasot's Lodging (the CHAPEAU of Hanbury), who
is now in Town, like all the world, for Carnival. Hirsch does not
directly venture on naming Chasot: but by implication, by glimmers
of evidence elsewhere, one sufficiently discovers that it is he:
Lieutenant-Colonel, King's Friend, a man glorious, especially ever
since Hohenfriedberg, and that haul of the "sixty-seven standards"
all at once. In the way of Arbitration, Voltaire thinks Chasot
might do something. In regard to those 450 pounds worth of bought
Jewels, there is not such a judge in the world! Hirsch says:
"Next morning [December 25th, morrow after that jumbly Account,
with probable slamming of the door, and still worse!], Voltaire
went to a Lieutenant-Colonel in the King's service; and ask him to
send for me." [Duvernet (Second), p. 172; Hirsch's Narrative (in
Tantale, p. 344).] This is Chasot; who knows
these jewels well. Duvernet,--who had talked a good deal with
D'Arget, in latter years, and alone of Frenchmen sometimes yields a
true particle of feature in things Prussian,--Duvernet tells us,
these Jewels were once Chasot's own: given him by a fond Duchess of
Mecklenburg,--musical old Duchess, verging towards sixty;
HONI SOIT, my friend! What Hirsch gave Chasot for these Jewels is
not a doubtful quantity; and may throw conviction into Hirsch,
hopes Voltaire.
DECEMBER 25th, 1750. The interview at Chasot's was not lengthy, but
it was decisive. Hirsch never brings that Paris Bill; privately
fixed, on that point. Hirsch's claims, as we gradually unravel the
intricate mule-mind of him, rise very high indeed. "And as to the
value of those Jewels, and what I allowed YOU for them, Monsieur
Chasot; that is no rule: trade-profits, you know"--Nay, the mule
intimates, as a last shift, That perhaps they are not the same
Jewels; that perhaps M. de Voltaire has changed some of them!
Whereupon the matter catches fire, irretrievably explodes.
M. de Voltaire's patience flies quite done; and, fire-eyed fury now
guiding, he springs upon the throat of Hirsch like a cat-o'-
mountain; clutches Hirsch by the windpipe; tumbles him about the
room: "Infamous canaille, do you know whom you have got to do with?
That it is in my power to stick you into a hole underground for the
rest of your life? Sirrah, I will ruin and annihilate you!"--and
"tossed me about the room with his fist on my throat," says Hirsch;
"offering to have pity nevertheless, if I would take back the
Jewels, and return all writings." [Narrative (in Tantale
).] Eyes glancing like a rattlesnake's, as we perceive;
and such a phenomenon as Hirsch had not expected, this Christmas!
In short, the matter has here fairly exploded, and is blazing
aloft, as a mass of intricate fuliginous ruin, not to be deciphered
henceforth. Such a scene for Chasot on the Christmas-day at Berlin!
And we have got to
PART II. THE LAWSUIT ITSELF (30th December, 1750-18th and
26th February, 1751).
Hirsch slunk hurriedly home, uncertain whether dead or alive.
Old Hirsch, hearing of such explosion, considered his house and
family ruined; and, being old and feeble, took to bed upon it,
threatening to break his heart. Voltaire writes to Niece Denis, on
the morrow; not hinting at the Hirsch matter, far from that; but in
uncommonly dreary humor: "My splendor here, my glory, never was the
like of it; MAIS, MAIS," BUT, and ever again BUT, at each new
item,--in fact, the humor of a glorious Phoenix-Peacock suddenly
douched and drenched in dirty water, and feeling frost at hand!
["To Madame Denis" (lxxiv. 279, "Berlin Palace, 26th December,
1750;"--and ib. 249, 257, &c. of other dates).] Humor intelligible
enough, when dates are compared.
Better than that, Voltaire is applying, on all points of the
compass, to Legal and Influential Persons, for help in a Court of
Law. To Chancellor Cocceji; to Jarriges (eminent Prussian
Frenchman), President of Court; to Maupertuis, who knows Jarriges,
but "will not meddle in a bad business;"--at last, even to dull
reverend Formey, whom he had not called on hitherto. Cocceji seems
to have answered, to the effect, "Most certainly: the Courts are
wide open;"--but as to "help"! December 30th, the Suit, Voltaire
VERSUS Hirsch, "comes to Protocol,"--that is, Cocceji, Jarriges,
Loper, three eminent men, have been named to try it; and Herr
Hofrath Bell, Advocate for Voltaire Plaintiff, hands in his First
Statement that day. Berlin resounds, we may fancy how!
Rumor, laughter and wonder are in all polite quarters;
and continue, more or less vivid, for above two months coming.
Here is one direct glimpse of Plaintiff, in this interim; which we
will give, though the eyes are none of the best: "The first visit
I," Formey, "had from Voltaire was in the afternoon of January 8th)
1751 [Suit begun ten days ago]. I had, at the time, a large party
of friends. Voltaire walked across the Apartment, without looking
at anybody; and, taking me by the hand, made me lead him to a
cabinet adjoining. His Lawsuit with a Jew was the matter on hand.
He talked to me at large about his Lawsuit, and with the greatest
vehemence; he wound up by asking me to speak to Law-President M. de
Jarriges (since Chancellor): I answered what was suitable;"--
probably did speak to Jarriges, but might as well have held my
tongue. "Voltaire then took his leave: stepping athwart the former
Apartment with some precipitation, he noticed my eldest little
girl, then in her fourth year, who was gazing at the diamonds on
his Cross of the Order of Merit. 'Bagatelles, bagatelles, MON
ENFANT!' said he, and disappeared." [Formey, i. 232.]
On New-Year's day, Friday, 1st January, 1751, Voltaire had legally
applied to Herr Minister von Bismark, for Warrant to arrest Hirsch,
as a person that will not give up Papers not belonging to him.
Warrant was granted, and Hirsch lodged in Limbo. Which worsens the
state of poor old Father Hirsch; threatening now really to die, of
heart-break and other causes. Hirsch Son, from the interior of
Limbo, appeals to Bismark, "Lord Chancellor Cocceji is seized of my
Plea, your gracious Lordship!"--"All the same," answers Bismark;
"produce CAUTION, or you can't get out." Hirsch produces caution;
and gets out, after a day or two;--and has been "brought to
Protocol January 4th." No delay in this Court: both parties,
through their Advocates, are now brought to book; the points they
agree in will be sifted out, and laid on this side as truth; what
they differ in, left lying on that side, as a mixture of lies to be
operated on by farther processes and protocols.
We will not detail the Lawsuit;--what I chiefly admire in it is its
brevity. Cocceji has not reformed in vain. Good Advocates, none
other allowed; and no Advocate talks; he merely endeavors to think,
see and discover; holds his tongue if he can discover nothing:
that doubtless is one source of the brevity!--Many lies are stated
by Hirsch, many by Voltaire: but the Judges, without difficulty,
shovel these aside; and come step by step upon the truth.
Hirsch says plainly, He was sent to buy STEUER-SCHEINE at 35 per
cent discount; Voltaire entirely denies the Steuer-Notes; says, It
was an affair of Peltries and Jewelries, originating in loans of
money to this ungrateful Jew. Which necessitates much wriggling on
the part of M. de Voltaire;--but he has himself written in a
Lawyer's Office, in his young days, and knows how to twist a turn
of expression. The Judges are not there to judge about Steuer-
Notes; but they give you to understand that Voltaire's Peltry-and-
Jewelry story is moonshine. Hirsch produces the Voltaire Scraps of
Writing, already known to our readers; Voltaire says, "Mere extinct
jottings; which Hirsch has furtively picked out of the grate,"--or
may be said to have picked; Papers annihilated by our Bargain of
December 16th, and which should have been in the grate, if they
were not; this felon never having kept his word in that respect.
Peltries and Jewelries, I say: he will not give me back that Paris
Bill which was protested; pays me the other 3,000 crowns (Draft of
650 pounds) in Jewels overvalued by half.--"Jewels furtively
changed since Plaintiff had them of me!" answers Hirsch;--and the
steady Judges keep their sieves going.
The only Documents produced by Voltaire are Two; of 19th DECEMBER
and of 24th DECEMBER;--which the reader has not yet seen, but ought
now to gain some notion of, if possible. They affect once more, as
that of December 16th had done, to be "Final Settlements" (or Final
Settlement of 19th, with CODICIL of 24th); and turn on confused
Lists of Jewels, bought, returned, re-bought (that "Topaz ring"
torn from one's hand, a conspicuous item), which no reader would
have patience to understand, except in the succinct form. Let all
readers note them, however,--at least the first of them, that of
December 19th; especially the words we mark in Italics, which have
merited a sad place for IT in the history of human sin and misery.
Klein has given both Documents in engraved fac-simile; we must help
ourselves by simpler methods. Berlin, December 19th, 1750;
Voltaire writes, Hirsch signs;--and the Italics are believed to be
words foisted in by M. de Voltaire, weeks after, while the Hirsch
pleadings were getting stringent! Read,--a very sad memorial of
M. de Voltaire,--
DOCUMENT FIFTH (in Voltaire's hand, written at two times; and the
old writing MENDED in parts, to suit the new!).--"FOR PAYMENT OF
3,000 THALERS BY ME DUE, I have sold to M. de Voltaire, at the
price costing by estimation and tax, with 2 per cent for my
commission ["OR GRATIFICATION," written above], the following
Diamonds, taxed [blotted into "TAXABLE"], as here adjoined; viz."--
seven pieces of jewelry, pendeloques, &c., with price affixed,
among which is the violated Topaz,--"the whole estimated by him
["him" crossed out, and "ME" written over it], being 3,640 thalers.
Whereupon, received from Monsieur de Voltaire [what is very
strange; not intelligible without study!] the sum of 2,940 thalers,
and he has given me back the Topaz, with 60 crowns for my trouble.
--Berlin, 19th December, 1750." (Hitherto in Voltaire's hand;
after which Hirsch writes:) "APROUVE, A. Hirschel." [Sic: that is
always his SIGNATURE; "Abraham HirschEL," so given by Klein, while
Klein and everybody CALL him Hirsch (STAG), as we have done,--if
only to save a syllable on the bad bargain.] And between these two
lines ("... 1750" and "APPROVED ..."), there is crushed in, as
afterthought, "VALUED BY MYSELF [Hirsch's self], 2,940, ADD 60, IS
3,000." And, in fine, below the Hirsch signature, on what may be
called the bottom margin, there is,--I think, avowedly Voltaire's
and subsequent,--this: "N.B. that Hirsch's valuing of all the
jewels [present lot and former lot] is, by real estimation, between
twice and thrice too high;" of which, it is hoped, your Lordships
will take notice!
Was there ever seen such a Paper; one end of it contradicting the
other? Payment TO M. de Voltaire, and payment BY M. de Voltaire;--
with other blottings and foistings, which print and italics will
not represent! Hirsch denies he ever signed this Paper. Is not that
your writing, then: "APROUVE, A. Hirschel"?--"No!" and they convict
him of falsity in that respect: the signature IS his, but the Paper
has been altered since he signed it. That is what the poor dark
mortal meant to express; and in his mulish way, he has expressed
into a falsity what was in itself a truth. There is not, on candid
examination of Klein's Fac-similes and the other evidence, the
smallest doubt but Voltaire altered, added and intercalated, in his
own privacy, those words which we have printed in italics;
TAXES changed into TAXABLES ("estimated at" into "estimable at"),
HIM for ME, and so on; and above all, the now first line of the
Paper, FOR PAYMENT OF 3,000 THALERS BY ME DUE, and in last line the
words VALUED BY MYSELF, &c., are palpable interpolations, sheer
falsifications, which Hirsch is made to continue signing after his
back is turned!
No fact is more certain; and few are sadder in the history of M. de
Voltaire. To that length has he been driven by stress of Fortune.
Nay, when the Judges, not hiding their surprise at the form of this
Document, asked, Will you swear it is all genuine? Voltaire
answered, "Yes, certainly!"--for what will a poor man not do in
extreme stress of Fortune? Hirsch, as a Jew, is not permitted to
make oath, where a Quasi-Christian will swear to the contrary, or
he gladly would; and might justly. The Judges, willing to prevent
chance of perjury, did not bring Voltaire to swearing, but
contrived a way to justice without that.
FEBRUARY 18th, 1751, the Court arrives at a conclusion. Hirsch's
Diamonds, whatever may have been written or forged, are not, nor
were, worth more than their value, think the Judges. The Paris Bill
is admitted to be Voltaire's, not Hirsch's, continue they;--and if
Hirsch can prove that Voltaire has changed the Diamonds, not a
likely fact, let him do so. The rest does not concern us. And to
that effect, on the above day, runs their Sentence: "You, Hirsch,
shall restore the Paris Bill; mutual Papers to be all restored, or
legally annihilated. Jewels to be valued by sworn Experts, and paid
for at that price. Hirsch, if he can prove that the Jewels were
changed, has liberty to try it, in a new Action. Hirsch, for
falsely denying his Signature, is fined ten thalers (thirty
shillings), such lie being a contempt of court, whatever more."
"Ha, fined, you Jew Villain!" hysterically shrieks Voltaire:
"in the wrong, weren't you, then; and fined thirty shillings?"
hysterically trying to believe, and make others believe, that he
has come off triumphant. "Beaten my Jew, haven't I?" says he to
everybody, though inwardly well enough aware how it stands, and
that he is a Phoenix douched, and has a tremor in the bones!
Chancellor Cocceji was far from thinking it triumphant to him.
Here is a small Note of Cocceji's, addressed to his two colleagues,
Jarriges and Loper, which has been found among the Law Papers:
"BERLIN, 20th FEBRUARY, 1751. The Herr President von Jarriges and
Privy-Councillor Loper are hereby officially requested to bring the
remainder of the Voltaire Sentence to its fulfilment: I am myself
not well, and can employ my time much better. The Herr von Voltaire
has given in a desperate Memorial (EIN DESPERATES MEMORIAL) to this
purport: 'I swear that what is charged to me [believed of me] in
the Sentence is true; and now request to have the Jewels valued.'
I have returned him this Paper, with notice that it must be signed
by an Advocate.--COCCEJI." [Klein, 256.]
So wrote Chancellor Cocceji, on the Saturday, washing his hands of
this sorry business. Voltaire is ready to make desperate oath, if
needful. We said once, M. de Voltaire was not given to lying;
far the reverse. But yet, see, if you drive him into a corner with
a sword at his throat,--alas, yes, he will lie a little!
Forgery lay still less in his habits; but he can do a stroke that
way, too (one stroke, unique in his life, I do believe), if a wild
boar, with frothy tusks, is upon him. Tell it not in Gath,--except
for scientific purposes! And be judicial, arithmetical, in passing
sentence on it; not shrieky, mobbish, and flying off into
the Infinite!
Berlin, of course, is loud on these matters. "The man whom the King
delighted to honor, this is he, then!" King Friedrich has quitted
Town, some while ago; returned to Potsdam "January 30th."
Glad enough, I suppose, to be out of all this unmusical blowing of
catcalls and indecent exposure. To Voltaire he has taken no notice;
silently leaves Voltaire, in his nook of the Berlin Schloss, till
the foul business get done. "VOLTAIRE FILOUTE LES JUIFS (picks Jew
pockets)," writes he once to Wilhelmina: "will get out of it by
some GAMBADE (summerset)," writes he another time; "but" ["31st
December, 1750" ( OEuvres de Frederic, xxvii,
i. 198); "3d February, 1751" (ib. 201).]-- And takes the matter
with boundless contempt, doubtless with some vexation, but with the
minimum of noise, as a Royal gentleman might. Jew Hirsch is busy
preparing for his new desperate Action; getting together proof that
the Jewels have been changed. In proof Jew Hirsch will be weak;
but in pleading, in public pamphlets, and keeping a winged Apollo
fluttering disastrously in such a mud-bath, Jew Hirsch will be
strong. Voltaire, "out of magnanimous pity to him," consents next
week to an Agreement. Agreement is signed on Thursday, 26th
February, 1751:--Papers all to be returned, Jewels nearly all,
except one or two, paid at Hirsch's own price. Whereby, on the
whole, as Klein computes, Voltaire lost about 150 pounds;--
elsewhere I have seen it computed at 187 pounds: not the least
matter which. Old Hirsch has died in the interim ("Of broken
heart!" blubbers the Son); day not known.
And, on these terms, Voltaire gets out of the business; glad to
close the intolerable rumor, at some cost of money. For all tongues
were wagging; and, in defect of a TIMES Newspaper, it appears,
there had Pamphlets come out; printed Satires, bound or in
broadside;--sapid, exhilarative, for a season, and interesting to
the idle mind. Of which, TANTALE EN PROCES may still, for the sake
of that PREFACE to it, be considered to have an obscure existence.
And such, reduced to its authenticities, was the Adventure of the
Steuer-Notes. A very bad Adventure indeed; unspeakably the worst
that Voltaire ever tried, who had such talent in the finance line.
On which poor History is really ashamed to have spent so much time;
sorting it into clearness, in the disgust and sorrow of her soul.
But perhaps it needed to be done. Let us hope, at least, it may not
now need to be done again. [Besides the KLEIN, the TANTALE EN
PROCES and the Voltaire LETTERS cited above, there is (in
OEuvres de Voltaire, lxiv. pp. 61-106, as SUPPLEMENT
there), written off-hand, in the very thick of the Hirsch Affair, a
considerable set of NOTES TO D'ARGET, which might have been still
more elucidative; but are, in their present dateless topsy-turvied
condition; a very wonder of confusion to the studious reader!]
This is the FIRST ACT of Voltaire's Tragic-Farce at the Court of
Berlin: readers may conceive to what a bleared frost-bitten
condition it has reduced the first Favonian efflorescence there.
He considerably recovered in the SECOND ACT, such the indelible
charm of the Voltaire genius to Friedrich. But it is well known,
the First Act rules all the others; and here, accordingly, the
Third Act failed not to prove tragical. Out of First Act into
Second the following EXTRACTS OF CORRESPONDENCE will guide the
reader, without commentary of ours.
Voltaire, left languishing at Berlin, has fallen sick, now that all
is over;--no doubt, in part really sick, the unfortunate Phoenix-
Peafowl, with such a tremor in his bones;--and would fain be near
Friedrich and warmth again; fain persuade the outside world that
all is sunshine with him. Voltaire's Letters to Friedrich, if he
wrote any, in this Jew time, are lost; here are Friedrich's Answers
to Two,--one lost, which had been written from Berlin AFTER the Jew
affair was out of Court; and to another (not lost) after the Jew
affair was done.
1. KING FRIEDRICH TO VOLTAIRE AT BERLIN.
"POTSDAM, 24th February, 1751.
"I was glad to receive you in my house; I esteemed your genius,
your talents and acquirements; and I had reason to think that a man
of your age, wearied with fencing against Authors, and exposing
himself to the storm, came hither to take refuge as in a
safe harbor.
"But, on arriving, you exacted of me, in a rather singular manner,
Not to take Freron to write me news from Paris; and I had the
weakness, or the complaisance, to grant you this, though it is not
for you to decide what persons I shall take into my service.
D'Arnaud had faults towards you; a generous man would have pardoned
them; a vindictive man hunts down those whom he takes to hating.
In a word, though to me D'Arnaud had done nothing, it was on your
account that he had to go. You were with the Russian Minister,
speaking of things you had no concern with [Russian Excellency
Gross, off home lately, in sudden dudgeon, like an angry
sky-rocket, nobody can guess why! [Adelung, vii. 133 (about 1st
December, 1750).]--and it was thought I had given you Commission."
"You have had the most villanous affair in the world with a Jew.
It has made a frightful scandal all over Town. And that Steuer-
Schein business is so well known in Saxony, that they have made
grievous complaints of it to me.
"For my own share, I have preserved peace in my house till your
arrival: and I warn you, that if you have the passion of intriguing
and caballing, you have applied to the wrong hand. I like peaceable
composed people; who do not put into their conduct the violent
passions of Tragedy. In case you can resolve to live like a
Philosopher, I shall be glad to see you; but if you abandon
yourself to all the violences of your passions, and get into
quarrels with all the world, you will do me no good by coming
hither, and you may as well stay in Berlin." [Preuss, xxii. 262
(WANTING in the French Editions).]--F.
To which Voltaire sighing pathetically in response, "Wrong, ah yes,
your Majesty;--and sick to death" (see farther down),--here is
Friedrich's Second in Answer:--
2. FRIEDRICH TO VOLTAIRE AGAIN.
"POTSDAM, 28th February, 1751.
"If you wish to come hither, you can do so. I hear nothing of
Lawsuits, not even of yours. Since you have gained it, I
congratulate you; and I am glad that this scurvy affair is done.
I hope you will have no more quarrels, neither with the OLD nor
with the New TESTAMENT. Such worryings (CES SORTES DE COMPROMIS)
leave their mark on a man; and with the talents of the finest
genius in France, you will not cover the stains which this conduct
would fasten on your reputation in the long-run. A Bookseller Gosse
[read JORE, your Majesty? Nobody ever heard of Gosse as an extant
quantity: Jore, of Rouen, you mean, and his celebrated Lawsuit,
about printing the HENRIADE, or I know not what, long since
[Unbounded details on the Jore Case, and from 1731 to 1738
continual LETTERS on it, in OEuvres de Voltaire; --came to a head in 1736 (ib. lxix. 375); Jore penitent,
1738 (ib. i. 262), &c. &c.], a Bookseller Jore, an Opera Fiddler
[poor Travenol, wrong dog pincered by the ear], and a Jeweller Jew,
these are, of a surety, names which in no sort of business ought to
appear by the side of yours. I write this Letter with the rough
common-sense of a German, who speaks what he thinks, without
employing equivocal terms, and loose assuagements which disfigure
the truth: it is for you to profit by it.--F." [ OEuvres de
Frederic, xxii. 265.]
So that Voltaire will have to languish: "Wrong, yes;--and sick,
nigh dead, your Majesty! Ah, could not one get to some Country
Lodge near you, 'the MARQUISAT' for instance? Live silent there,
and see your face sometimes?" [In OEuvres de Frederic (xxii. 259-261, 263-266) are Four lamenting and repenting,
wheedling and ultimately whining, LETTERS from Voltaire, none of
them dated, which have much about "my dreadful state of health," my
passion" for reposing in that MARQUISAT," &c.;--to one of which
Four, or perhaps to the whole together, the above No. 2 of
Friedrich seems to have been Answer. Of that indisputable
"MARQUISAT" no Nicolai says a word; even careful Preuss passes
"Gosse" and it with shut lips.] Languishing very much;--gives cosy
little dinners, however. Here are two other Excerpts; and these
will suffice:--
VOLTAIRE TO FORMEY ("BERLIN PALACE;" DATABLE, FIRST DAYS OF MARCH):
"Will you, Monsieur, come and eat the King's roast meat (ROT DU
ROI), to-day, Thursday, at two o'clock, in a philosophic, warm and
comfortable manner (PHILOSOPHIQUEMENT ET CHAUDEMENT ET DOUCEMENT).
A couple of philosophers, without being courtiers, may dine in the
Palace of a Philosopher-King: I should even take the liberty of
sending one of his Majesty's Carriages for you,-at two precise.
After dinner, you would be at hand for your Academy meeting."
[Formey, i. 234.]--V. How cosy!--And King Friedrich has relented,
too; grants me the Marquisat; can refuse me nothing!
VOLTAIRE TO D'ARGENTAL (POTSDAM, 15th MARCH 1751). ... "I could not
accompany our Chamberlain [Von Ammon, gone as Envoy to Paris, on a
small matter ["Commercial Treaty;" which he got done. See
LONGCHAMP, if any one is curious otherwise about this Gentleman:
"D'Hamon" they call him, and sometimes "DAMON",--to whom Niece
Denis wanted to be Phyllis, according to Longchamp.]], through the
muds and the snows,--where I should have been buried; I was ill,"
and had to go to the MARQUISAT. "D'Arnaud and the pack of
Scribblers would have been too glad. D'Arnaud, animated with the
true love of glory, and not yet grown sufficiently illustrious by
his own immortal Works, has done ONE of that kind,"--by his
behavior here. Has behaved to me--oh, like a miserable, envious,
intriguing, lying little scoundrel; and made Berlin too hot for
him: seduced Tinois my Clerk, stole bits of the Pucelle (brief
SIGHT of bits, for Prince Henri's sake) to ruin me.
"D'Arnaud sent his lies to Freron for the Paris meridian [that is
his real crime]; delightful news from canaille to canaille:
'How Voltaire had lost a great Lawsuit, respectable Jew Banker
cheated by Voltaire; that Voltaire was disgraced by the King,' who
of course loves Jews; 'that Voltaire was ruined; was ill; nay at
last, that Voltaire was dead.'" To the joy of Freron, and the
scoundrels that are printing one's PUCELLE. "Voltaire is still in
life, however, my angels; and the King has been so good to me in my
sickness, I should be the ungratefulest of men if I didn't still
pass some months with him. When he left Berlin [30th January, six
weeks ago], and I was too ill to follow him, I was the sole animal
of my species whom he lodged in his Palace there [what a beautiful
bit of color to lay on!]--He left me equipages, cooks ET CETERA;
and his mules and horses carted out my temporary furniture (MEUBLES
DE PASSADE) to a delicious House of his, close by Potsdam
[MARQUISAT to wit, where I now stretch myself at ease; Niece Denis
coming to live with me there,--talks of coming, if my angels knew
it],--and he has reserved for me a charming apartment in his Palace
of Potsdam, where I pass a part of the week.
"And, on close view, I still admire this Unique Genius; and he
deigns to communicate himself to me;--and if I were not 300 leagues
from you, and had a little health, I should be the happiest of
men." [ OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiv. 320.] ...
Oh, my angels--
And, in short, better or worse, my SECOND ACT is begun, as you
perceive!--And certain readers will be apt to look in again, before
all is over.
Chapter VIII.
OST-FRIESLAND AND THE SHIPPING INTERESTS.
Two Foreign Events, following on the heel of the Hirsch Lawsuit,
were of interest to our Berlin friends, though not now of much to
us or anybody. April 5th, 1751, the old King of Sweden, Landgraf of
Hessen-Cassel, died; whereby not only our friend Wilhelm, the
managing Landgraf, becomes Landgraf indeed (if he should ever turn
up on us again), but Princess Ulrique is henceforth Queen of
Sweden, her Husband the new King. No doubt a welcome event to
Princess Ulrique, the high brave-minded Lady; but which proved
intrinsically an empty one, not to say worse than empty, to herself
and her friends, in times following. Friedrich's connection with
Sweden, which he had been tightening lately by a Treaty of
Alliance, came in the long-run to nothing for him, on the Swedish
side; and on the Russian has already created umbrages, kindled
abstruse suspicions, indignations,--Russian Excellency Gross,
abruptly, at Berlin, demanding horses, not long since, and posting
home without other leave-taking, to the surprise of mankind;--
Russian Czarina evidently in the sullens against Friedrich, this
long while; dull impenetrable clouds of anger lodging yonder,
boding him no good. All which the Accession of Queen Ulrique will
rather tend to aggravate than otherwise. [Adelung, vii. 205
(Accession of Adolf Friedrich); ib. 133 (Gross's sudden Departure).]
The Second Foreign Event is English, about a week prior in date,
and is of still less moment: March 31st, 1751, Prince Fred, the
Royal Heir-Apparent, has suddenly died. Had been ill, more or less,
for an eight days past; was now thought better, though "still
coughing, and bringing up phlegm,"--when, on "Wednesday night
between nine and ten," in some lengthier fit of that kind, he clapt
his hand on his breast; and the terrified valet heard him say, "JE
SUIS MORT!"--and before his poor Wife could run forward with a
light, he lay verily dead. [Walpole, GEORGE THE SECOND, i. 71.]
The Rising Sun in England is vanished, then. Yes; and with him his
MOONS, and considerable moony workings, and slushings hither and
thither, which they have occasioned, in the muddy tide-currents of
that Constitutional Country. Without interest to us here; or indeed
elsewhere,--except perhaps that our dear Wilhelmina would hear of
it; and have her sad reflections and reminiscences awakened by it;
sad and many-voiced, perhaps of an almost doleful nature, being on
a sick-bed at this time, poor Lady. She quitted Berlin months ago,
as we observed,--her farewell Letter to Friedrich, written from the
first stage homewards, and melodious as the voice of sorrowful true
hearts to us and him, dates "November 24th," just while Voltaire
(whom she always likes, and in a beautiful way protects, "FRERE
VOLTAIRE," as she calls him) was despatching Hirsch on that ill-
omened Predatory STEUER-Mission. Her Brother is in real alarm for
Wilhelmina, about this time; sending out Cothenius his chief
Doctor, and the like: but our dear Princess re-emerges from her
eclipse; and we shall see her again, several times, if we be lucky.
And so poor Fred is ended;--and sulky people ask, in their cruel
way, "Why not?" A poor dissolute flabby fellow-creature; with a sad
destiny, and a sadly conspicuous too. Could write Madrigals; be set
to make Opposition cabals. Read this sudden Epitaph in doggerel;
an uncommonly successful Piece of its kind; which is now his main
monument with posterity. The "Brother" (hero of Culloden), the
"Sister" (Amelia, our Friedrich's first love, now growing gossipy
and spiteful, poor Princess), are old friends:--
"Here lies Prince Fred,
Who was alive and is dead:
Had it been his Father,
I had much rather;
Had it been his Brother,
Sooner than any other;
Had it been his Sister,
There's no one would have missed her;
Had it been his whole generation,
Best of all for the Nation:
But since it's only Fred,
There's no more to be said." [Walpole, i. 436.]
FRIEDRIAH VISITS OST-FRIESLAND.
A thing of more importance to us, two months after that catastrophe
in London, is Friedrich's first Visit to Ost-Friesland. May 3lst,
having done his Berlin-Potsdam Reviews and other current affairs,
Friedrich sets out on this Excursion. With Ost-Friesland for goal,
but much business by the way. Towards Magdeburg, and a short visit
to the Brunswick Kindred, first of all. There is much reviewing in
the Magdeburg quarter, and thereafter in the Wesel; and reviewing
and visiting all along: through Minden, Bielfeld, Lingen: not till
July 13th does he cross the Ost-Friesland Border, and enter Embden.
His three Brothers, and Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, were with
him. [ Helden-Geschichte, iii. 506; Seyfarth,
ii. 145; Rodenbeck, i. 216 (who gives a foolish German myth, of
Voltaire's being passed off for the King's Baboon, &c.; Voltaire
not being there at all).] On catching view of Ost-Friesland Border,
see, on the Border-Line, what an Arch got on its feet: Triumphal
Arch, of frondent ornaments, inscriptions and insignia; "of quite
extraordinary magnificence;" Arch which "sets every one into the
agreeablest admiration." Above a hundred such Arches spanned the
road at different points; multitudinous enthusiasm reverently
escorting, "more than 20,000" by count: till we enter Embden;
where all is cannon-salvo, and three-times-three; the thunder-shots
continuing, "above 2,000 of them from the walls, not to speak of
response from the ships in harbor." Embden glad enough, as would
appear, and Ost-Friesland glad enough, to see their new King.
July 13th, 1751; after waiting above six years.
Next day, his Majesty gave audience to the new "Asiatic Shipping
Company" (of which anon), to the Stande, and Magisterial persons;--
with many questions, I doubt not, about your new embankments, new
improvements, prospects; there being much procedure that way, in
all manner of kinds, since the new Dynasty came in, now six years
ago. Embankments on your River, wide spaces changed from ooze to
meadow; on the Dollart still more, which has lain 500 years hidden
from the sun. Does any reader know the Dollart? Ost-Friesland has
awakened to wonderful new industries within these six years;
urged and guided by the new King, who has great things in view for
it, besides what are in actual progress.
That of dikes, sea-embankments, for example; to Ost-Friesland, as
to Holland, they are the first condition of existence; and, in the
past times, of extreme Parliamentary vitality, have been slipping a
good deal out of repair. Ems River, in those flat rainy countries,
has ploughed out for itself a very wide embouchure, as boundary
between Groningen and Ost-Friesland. Muddy Ems, bickering with the
German Ocean, does not forget to act, if Parliamentary
Commissioners do. These dikes, 120 miles of dike, mainly along both
banks of this muddy Ems River, are now water-tight again, to the
comfort of flax and clover: and this is but one item of the diking
now on foot. Readers do not know the Dollart, that uppermost round
gulf, not far from Embden itself, in the waste embouchure of Ems
with its continents of mud and tide. Five hundred years ago, that
ugly whirl of muddy surf, 100 square miles in area, was a fruitful
field, "50 Villages upon it, one Town, several Monasteries and
50,000 souls:" till on Christmas midnight A.D. 1277, the winds and
the storm-rains having got to their height, Ocean and Ems did,
"about midnight," undermine the place, folded it over like a
friable bedquilt or monstrous doomed griddle-cake, and swallowed it
all away. Most of it, they say, that night, the whole of it within
ten years coming; [Busching, Erdbeschreibung,
v. 845, 846; Preuss, i. 308, 309.]--and there it has hung, like an
unlovely GOITRE at the throat of Embden, ever since. One little dot
of an Island, with six houses on it, near the Embden shore, is all
that is left. Where probably his Majesty landed (July 15th, being
in a Yacht that day); but did not see, afar off, the "sunk steeple-
top," which is fabled to be visible at low-water.
Upon this Dollart itself there is now to be diking tried;
King's Domain-Kammer showing the example. Which Official Body did
accordingly (without Blue-Books, but in good working case
otherwise) break ground, few months hence; and victoriously
achieved a POLDER, or Diked Territory, "worth about 2,000 pounds
annually;" "which, in 1756, was sold to the STANDE;" at twenty-five
years purchase, let us say, or for 50,000 pounds. An example of a
convincing nature; which many others, and ever others, have
followed since; to gradual considerable diminution of the Dollart,
and relief of Ost-Friesland on this side. Furtherance of these
things is much a concern of Friedrich's. The second day after his
arrival, those audiences and ceremonials done, Friedrich and suite
got on board a Yacht, and sailed about all over this Dollart,
twenty miles out to sea; dined on board; and would have, if the
weather was bright (which I hope), a pleasantly edifying day.
The harbor is much in need of dredging, the building docks
considerably in disrepair; but shall be refitted if this King live
and prosper. He has declared Embden a "Free-Haven," inviting trade
to it from all peaceable Nations;--and readers do not know (though
Sir Jonas Hanway and the jealous mercantile world well did) what
magnificent Shipping Companies and Sea-Enterprises, of his
devising, are afoot there. Of which, one word, and no second
shall follow:
"September 1st, 1750, those Carrousel gayeties scarce done, 'The
Asiatic Trading Company' stept formally into existence; Embden the
Head-quarters of it; [Patent, or FREYHEITS-BRIEF in
Helden-Geschichte, iii. 457, 458.] chief Manager a
Ritter De la Touche; one of the Directors our fantastic Bielfeld,
thus turned to practical value. A Company patronized, in all ways,
by the King; but, for the rest, founded, not on his money;
founded on voluntary shares, which, to the regret of Hanway and
others, have had much popularity in commercial circles. Will trade
to China. A thing looked at with umbrage by the English, by the
Dutch. A shame that English people should encourage such schemes,
says Hanway. Which nevertheless many Dutch and many English private
persons do,--among the latter, one English Lady (name unknown, but
I always suspect 'Miss Barbara Wyndham, of the College,
Salisbury'), concerning whom there will be honorable notice by
and by.
"At the time of Friedrich's visit, the Asiatic Company is in full
vogue; making ready its first ship for Canton. First ship, KONIG
VON PREUSSEN (tons burden not given), actually sailed 17th February
next (1752); and was followed by a second, named TOWN OF EMBDEN, on
the 19th of September following; both of which prosperously reached
Canton, and prosperously returned with cargoes of satisfactory
profit. The first of them, KONIG VON PREUSSEN, had been boarded in
the Downs by an English Captain Thomson and his Frigate, and
detained some days,--till Thomson 'took Seven English seamen out of
her.' 'Act of Parliament, express!' said his Grace of Newcastle.
Which done, Thomson found that the English jealousies would have to
hold their hand; no farther, whatever one's wishes may be.
"Nay within a year hence, January 24th, 1753, Friedrich founded
another Company for India: 'BENGALISCHE HANDELS-GESELLSCHAFT;'
which also sent out its pair of ships, perhaps oftener than once;
and pointed, as the other was doing, to wide fields of enterprise,
for some time. But luck was wanting. And, 'in part, mismanagement,'
and, in whole, the Seven-Years War put an end to both Companies
before long. Friedrich is full of these thoughts, among his other
Industrialisms; and never quits them for discouragement, but tries
again, when the obstacles cease to be insuperable. Ever since the
acquisition of Ost-Friesland, the furtherance of Sea-Commerce had
been one of Friedrich's chosen objects. 'Let us carry our own goods
at least, Silesian linens, Memel timbers, stock-fish; what need of
the Dutch to do it?' And in many branches his progress had been
remarkable,--especially in this carrying trade, while the War
lasted, and crippled all Anti-English belligerents. Upon which,
indeed, and the conduct of the English Privateers to him, there is
a Controversy going on with the English Court in those years (began
in 1747), most distressful to his Grace of Newcastle;--which in
part explains those stingy procedures of Captain Thomson ('Home,
you seven English sailors!') when the first Canton ship put to sea.
That Controversy is by no means ended after three years, but on the
contrary, after two years more, comes to a crisis quite shocking to
his Grace of Newcastle, and defying all solution on his Grace's
side,--the other Party, after such delays, five years waiting,
having settled it for himself!" Of which, were the crisis come, we
will give some account.
On the third day of his Visit, Friedrich drove to Aurich, the seat
of Government, and official little capital of Ost-Friesland;
where triumphal arches, joyful reverences, concourses,
demonstrations, sumptuous Dinner one item, awaited his Majesty:
I know not if, in the way thither or back, he passed those "Three
huge Oaks [or the rotted stems or roots of them] under which the
Ancient Frisians, Lords of all between Weser and Rhine, were wont
to assemble in Parliament" (WITHOUT Fourth Estate, or any Eloquence
except of the purely Business sort),--or what his thoughts on the
late Ost-Friesland Bandbox Parliaments may have been! He returned
to Embden that night; and on the morrow started homewards; we may
fancy, tolerably pleased with what he had seen.
"King Friedrich's main Objects of Pursuit in this Period," says a
certain Author, whom we often follow, "I define as being Three.
1. Reform of the Law; 2. Furtherance of Husbandry and Industry in
all kinds, especially of Shipping from Embden; 3. Improvement of
his own Domesticities and Household Enjoyments,"--renewal of the
Reinsberg Program, in short.
"In the First of these objects," continues he, "King Friedrich's
success was very considerable, and got him great fame in the world.
In his Second head of efforts, that of improving the Industries and
Husbandries among his People, his success, though less noised of in
foreign parts, was to the near observer still more remarkable.
A perennial business with him, this; which, even in the time of
War, he never neglects; and which springs out like a stemmed flood,
whenever Peace leaves him free for it. His labors by all methods to
awaken new branches of industry, to cherish and further the old,
are incessant, manifold, unwearied; and will surprise the
uninstructed reader, when he comes to study them. An airy,
poetizing, bantering, lightly brilliant King, supposed to be
serious mainly in things of War, how is he moiling and toiling,
like an ever-vigilant Land-Steward, like the most industrious City
Merchant, hardest-working Merchant's Clerk, to increase his
industrial Capital by any the smallest item!
"One day, these things will deserve to be studied to the bottom;
and to be set forth, by writing hands that are competent, for the
instruction and example of Workers,--that is to say, of all men,
Kings most of all, when there are again Kings. At present, I can
only say they astonish me, and put me to shame: the unresting
diligence displayed in them, and the immense sum-total of them,--
what man, in any the noblest pursuit, can say that he has stood to
it, six-and-forty years long, in the style of this man? Nor did the
harvest fail; slow sure harvest, which sufficed a patient Friedrich
in his own day; harvest now, in our day, visible to everybody: in a
Prussia all shooting into manufactures, into commerces, opulences,
--I only hope, not TOO fast, and on more solid terms than are
universal at present! Those things might be didactic, truly, in
various points, to this Generation; and worth looking back upon,
from its high LAISSEZ-FAIRE altitudes, its triumphant Scrip-
transactions and continents of gold-nuggets,--pleasing, it doubts
not, to all the gods. To write well of what is called 'Political
Economy' (meaning thereby increase of money's-worth) is reckoned
meritorious, and our nearest approach to the rational sublime.
But to accomplish said increase in a high and indisputable degree;
and indisputably very much by your own endeavors wisely regulating
those of others, does not that approach still nearer the sublime?
"To prevent disappointment, I ought to add that Friedrich is the
reverse of orthodox in 'Political Economy;' that he had not faith
in Free-Trade, but the reverse;--nor had ever heard of those
ultimate Evangels, unlimited Competition, fair Start, and perfervid
Race by all the world (towards 'CHEAP-AND-NASTY,' as the likeliest
winning-post for all the world), which have since been vouchsafed
us. Probably in the world there was never less of a Free-Trader!
Constraint, regulation, encouragement, discouragement, reward,
punishment; these he never doubted were the method, and that
government was good everywhere if wise, bad only if not wise.
And sure enough these methods, where human justice and the earnest
sense and insight of a Friedrich preside over them, have results,
which differ notably from opposite cases that can be imagined!
The desperate notion of giving up government altogether, as a
relief from human blockheadism in your governors, and their want
even of a wish to be just or wise, had not entered into the
thoughts of Friedrich; nor driven him upon trying to believe that
such, in regard to any Human Interest whatever, was, or could be
except for a little while in extremely developed cases, the true
way of managing it. How disgusting, accordingly, is the Prussia of
Friedrich to a Hanbury Williams; who has bad eyes and dirty
spectacles, and hates Friedrich: how singular and lamentable to a
Mirabeau Junior, who has good eyes, and loves him! No knave, no
impertinent blockhead even, can follow his own beautiful devices
here; but is instantly had up, or comes upon a turnpike strictly
shut for him. 'Was the like ever heard of?' snarls Hanbury
furiously (as an angry dog might, in a labyrinth it sees not the
least use for): 'What unspeakable want of liberty!'--and reads to
you as if he were lying outright; but generally is not, only
exaggerating, tumbling upside down, to a furious degree;
knocking against the labyrinth HE sees not the least use for.
Mirabeau's Gospel of Free-Trade, preached in 1788, [MONARCHIE
PRUSSIENNE he calls it (A LONDRES, privately Paris, 1788), 8 vols.
8vo; which is a Dead-Sea of Statistics, compiled by industrious
Major Mauvillon, with this fresh current of a "Gospel" shining
through it, very fresh and brisk, of few yards breadth;--dedicated
to Papa, the true PROTevangelist of the thing.]--a comparatively
recent Performance, though now some seventy or eighty years the
senior of an English (unconscious) Fac-simile, which we have all
had the pleasure of knowing,--will fall to be noticed afterwards
[not by this Editor, we hope!]
"Many of Friedrich's restrictive notions,--as that of watching with
such anxiety that 'money' (gold or silver coin) be not carried out
of the Country,--will be found mistakes, not in orthodox Dismal
Science as now taught, but in the nature of things; and indeed the
Dismal Science will generally excommunicate them in the lump,--too.
heedless that Fact has conspicuously vindicated the general sum-
total of them, and declared it to be much truer than it seems to
the Dismal Science. Dismal Science (if that were important to me)
takes insufficient heed, and does not discriminate between times
past and times present, times here and times there."
Certain it is, King Friedrich's success in National Husbandry was
very great. The details of the very many new Manufactures, new
successful ever-spreading Enterprises, fostered into existence by
Friedrich; his Canal-makings, Road-makings, Bog-drainings,
Colonizings and unwearied endeavorings in that kind, will require a
Technical Philosopher one day; and will well reward such study, and
trouble of recording in a human manner; but must lie massed up in
mere outline on the present occasion. Friedrich, as Land-Father,
Shepherd of the People, was great on the Husbandry side also;
and we are to conceive him as a man of excellent practical sense,
doing unweariedly his best in that kind, all his life long.
Alone among modern Kings; his late Father the one exception;
and even his Father hardly surpassing him in that particular.
In regard to Embden and the Shipping interests, Ost-Friesland
awakened very ardent speculations, which were a novelty in Prussian
affairs; nothing of Foreign Trade, except into the limited Baltic,
had been heard of there since the Great Elector's time. The Great
Elector had ships, Forts on the Coast of Africa; and tried hard for
Atlantic Trade,--out of this same Embden; where, being summoned to
protect in the troubles, he had got some footing as Contingent Heir
withal, and kept a "Prussian Battalion" a good while. And now, on
much fairer terms, not less diligently turned to account, it is his
Great-Grandson's turn. Friedrich's successes in this department,
the rather as Embden and Ost-Friesland have in our time ceased to
be Prussian, are not much worth speaking of; but they connect
themselves with some points still slightly memorable to us.
How, for example, his vigilantes and endeavors on this score
brought him into rubbings, not collisions, but jealousies and
gratings, with the English and Dutch, the reader will see anon.
Law-reform is gloriously prosperous; Husbandry the like, and
Shipping Interest itself as yet. But in the Third grand Head, that
of realizing the Reinsberg Program, beautifying his Domesticities,
and bringing his own Hearth and Household nearer the Ideal,
Friedrich was nothing like so successful; in fact had no success at
all. That flattering Reinsberg Program, it is singular how
Friedrich cannot help trying it by every new chance, nor cast the
notion out of him that there must be a kind of Muses'-Heaven
realizable on Earth! That is the Biographic Phenomenon which has
survived of those Years; and to that we will almost exclusively
address ourselves, on behalf of ingenuous readers.
Chapter IX.
SECOND ACT 0F TEE VOLTAIRE VISIT.
Voltaire's Visit lasted, in all, about Thirty-two Months; and is
divisible into Three Acts or Stages. The first we have seen: how it
commenced in brightness as of the sun, and ended, by that Hirsch
business, in whirlwinds of smoke and soot,--Voltaire retiring, on
his passionate prayer, to that silent Country-house which he calls
the Marquisat; there to lie in hospital, and wash himself a little,
and let the skies wash themselves.
The Hirsch business having blown over, as all things do, Voltaire
resumed his place among the Court-Planets, and did his revolutions;
striving to forget that there ever was a Hirsch, or a soot-
explosion of that nature. In words nobody reminded him of it, the
King least of all: and by degrees matters were again tolerably
glorious, and all might have gone well enough; though the primal
perfect splendor, such fuliginous reminiscence being ineffaceable,
never could be quite re-attained. The diamond Cross of Merit, the
Chamberlain gold Key, hung bright upon the man; a man the admired
of men. He had work to do: work of his own which he reckoned
priceless (that immortal SIECLE DE LOUIS QUATORZE; which he stood
by, and honestly did, while here; the one fixed axis in those
fooleries and whirlings of his);--work for the King, "two hours,
one hour, a day," which the King reckoned priceless in its sort.
For Friedrich himself Voltaire has, with touches of real love
coming out now and then, a very sincere admiration mixed with fear;
and delights in shining to him, and being well with him, as the
greatest pleasure now left in life. Besides the King, he had
society enough, French in type, and brilliant enough: plenty of
society; or, at his wish, what was still better, none at all.
He was bedded, boarded, lodged, as if beneficent fairies had done
it for him; and for all these things no price asked, you might say,
but that he would not throw himself out of window! Had the man been
wise-- But he was not wise. He had, if no big gloomy devil in him
among the bright angels that were there, a multitude of ravening
tumultuary imps, or little devils very ILL-CHAINED; and was lodged,
he and his restless little devils, in a skin far too thin for him
and them!--
Reckoning up the matter, one cannot find that Voltaire ever could
have been a blessing at Berlin, either for Friedrich or himself;
and it is to be owned that Friedrich was not wise in so longing for
him, or clasping him so frankly in his arms. As Friedrich, by this
time, probably begins to discover;--though indeed to Friedrich the
thing is of finite moment; by no means of infinite, as it was to
Voltaire. "At worst, nothing but a little money thrown away!"
thinks Friedrich: "Sure enough, this is a strange Trismegistus,
this of mine: star fire-work shall we call him, or terrestrial
smoke-and-soot work? But one can fence oneself against the blind
vagaries of the man; and get a great deal of good by him, in the
lucid intervals." To Voltaire himself the position is most
agitating; but then its glories, were there nothing more!
Besides hy is always thinking to quit it shortly; which is a great
sedative in troubles. What with intermittencies (safe hidings in
one's MARQUISAT, or vacant interlunar cave), with alternations of
offence and reconcilement; what with occasional actual flights to
Paris (whitherward Voltaire is always busy to keep a postern open;
and of which there is frequent talk, and almost continual thought,
all along), flights to be called "visits," and privately intending
to be final, but never proving so,--the Voltaire-Friedrich
relation, if left to itself, might perhaps long have staggered
about, and not ended as it did.
But, alas, no relation can be left to itself in this world,--
especially if you have a porous skin! There were other French here,
as well as Voltaire, revolving in the Court-circle; and that,
beyond all others, proved the fatal circumstance to him.
"NE SAVEZ-VOUS PAS, Don't you know," said he to Chancellor Jarriges
one day, "that when there are two Frenchmen in a Foreign Court or
Country, one of them must die (FAUT QUE L'UN DES DEUX PERISSE)?"
[Seyfarth, ii. 191; &c. &c.] Which shocked the mind of Jarriges;
but had a kind of truth, too. Jew Hirsch, run into for low
smuggling purposes, had been a Cape of Storms, difficult to
weather; but the continual leeshore were those French,--with a
heavy gale on, and one of the rashest pilots! He did strike the
breakers there, at last; and it is well known, total shipwreck was
the issue. Our Second Act, holding out dubiously, in continual
perils, till Autumn, 1752, will have to pass then into a Third of
darker complexion, and into a Catastrophe very dark indeed.
Catastrophe which, by farther ill accident, proved noisy in the
extreme; producing world-wide shrieks from the one party, stone-
silence from the other; which were answered by unlimited hooting,
catcalling and haha-ing from all parts of the World-Theatre, upon
both the shrieky and the silent party; catcalling not fallen quite
dead to this day. To Friedrich the catcalling was not momentous
(being used to such things); though to poor Voltaire it was
unlimitedly so:--and to readers interested in this memorable Pair
of Men, the rights and wrongs of the Affair ought to be rendered
authentically conceivable, now at last. Were it humanly possible,--
after so much catcalling at random! Smelfungus has a right to say,
speaking of this matter:--
"Never was such a jumble of loud-roaring ignorances, delusions and
confusions, as the current Records of it are. Editors, especially
French Editors, treating of a Hyperborean, Cimmerian subject, like
this, are easy-going creatures. And truly they have left it for us
in a wonderful state. Dateless, much of it, by nature; and, by the
lazy Editors, MISdated into very chaos; jumbling along there, in
mad defiance of top and bottom; often the very Year given wrong:--
full everywhere of lazy darkness, irradiated only by stupid rages,
ill-directed mockeries:--and for issue, cheerfully malicious
hootings from the general mob of mankind, with unbounded contempt
of their betters; which is not pleasant to see. When mobs do get
together, round any signal object; and editorial gentlemen, with
talent for it, pour out from their respective barrel-heads, in a
persuasive manner, instead of knowledge, ignorance set on fire,
they are capable of carrying it far!--Will it be possible to pick
out the small glimmerings of real light, from this mad dance of
will-o'-wisps and fire-flies thrown into agitation?"
It will be very difficult, my friend;--why did not you yourself do
it? Most true, "those actual Voltaire-Friedrich LETTERS of the time
are a resource, and pretty much the sole one: Letters a good few,
still extant; which all HAD their bit of meaning; and have it
still, if well tortured till they give it out, or give some glimmer
of it out:"--but you have not tortured them; you have left it to
me, if I would! As I assuredly will not (never fear, reader!)--
except in the thriftiest degree.
DETACHED FEATURES (NOT FABULOUS) OF VOLTAIRE AND HIS
BERLIN-POTSDAM ENVIRONMENT IN 1751-1752.
To the outside crowd of observers, and to himself in good moments,
Voltaire represents his situation as the finest in the world:--
"Potsdam is Sparta and Athens joined in one; nothing but reviewing
and poetry day by day. The Algarottis, the Maupertuises, are here;
have each his work, serious for himself; then gay Supper with a
King, who is a great man and the soul of good company." ...
Sparta and Athens, I tell you: "a Camp of Mars and the Garden of
Epicurus; trumpets and violins, War and Philosophy. I have my time
all to myself; am at Court and in freedom,--if I were not entirely
free, neither an enormous Pension, nor a Gold Key tearing out one's
pocket, nor a halter (LICOU), which they call CORDON of an ORDER,
nor even the Suppers with a Philosopher who has gained Five
Battles, could yield me the least happiness." [ OEuvres,
lxxiv. 325, 326, 333 (Letters, to D'Argental and
others, "27th April-8th May, 1751").] Looked at by you, my outside
friends,--ah, had I health and YOU here, what a situation!
But seen from within, it is far otherwise. Alongside of these
warblings of a heart grateful to the first of Kings, there goes on
a series of utterances to Niece Denis, remarkable for the misery
driven into meanness, that can be read in them. Ill-health,
discontent, vague terror, suspicion that dare not go to sleep;
a strange vague terror, shapeless or taking all shapes--a body
diseased and a mind diseased. Fear, quaking continually for nothing
at all, is not to be borne in a handsome manner. And it passes,
often enough (in these poor LETTERS), into transient malignity,
into gusts of trembling hatred, with a tendency to relieve oneself
by private scandal of the house we are in. Seldom was a miserabler
wrong-side seen to a bit of royal tapestry. A man hunted by the
little devils that dwell unchained within himself; like Pentheus by
the Maenads, like Actaeon by his own Dogs. Nay, without devils,
with only those terrible bowels of mine, and scorbutic gums, it is
bad enough: "Glorious promotions to me here," sneers he bitterly;
"but one thing is indisputable, I have lost seven of my poor
residue of teeth since I came!" In truth, we are in a sadly
scorbutic state; and that, and the devils we lodge within
ourselves, is the one real evil. Could not Suspicion--why cannot
she!--take her natural rest; and all these terrors vanish?
Oh, M. de Voltaire!--The practical purport, to Niece Denis, always
is: Keep my retreat to Paris open; in the name of Heaven, no
obstruction that way!
Miserable indeed; a man fatally unfit for his present element!
But he has Two considerable Sedatives, all along; two, and no third
visible to me. Sedative FIRST: that, he can, at any time, quit this
illustrious Tartarus-Elysium, the envy of mankind;--and indeed,
practically, he is always as if on the slip; thinking to be off
shortly, for a time, or in permanence; can be off at once, if
things grow too bad. Sedative SECOND is far better: His own labor
on LOUIS QUATORZE, which is steadily going on, and must have been a
potent quietus in those Court-whirlwinds inward and outward.
From Berlin, already in Autumn, 1750, Voltaire writes to
D'Argental: "I sha'n't go to Italy this Autumn [nor ever in my
life], as I had projected. But I will come to see YOU in the course
of November" (far from it, I got into STEUER-SCHEINE then!)--
And again, after some weeks: "I have put off my journey to Italy
for a year. Next Winter too, therefore, I shall see you," on the
road thither. "To my Country, since you live in it, I will make
frequent visits," very! "Italy and the King of Prussia are two old
passions with me; but I cannot treat Frederic-le-Grand as I can the
Holy Father, with a mere look in passing." [To D'Argental, "Berlin,
14th September,--Potsdam, 15th October, 1750" ( OEuvres,
lxxiv. 220, 237).] Let this one, to which many might
be added, serve as sample of Sedative First, or the power and
intention to be off before long.
In regard to Sedative Second, again: ... "The happiest circumstance
is, "brought with me all my LOUIS-FOURTEENTH Papers and Excerpts.
'I get from Leipzig, if no nearer, whatever Books are needed;'" and
labor faithfully at this immortal Production. Yes, day by day, to
see growing, by the cunning of one's own right hand, such perennial
Solomon's-Temple of a SIECLE DE LOUIS QUATORZE:--which of your
Kings, or truculent, Tiglath-Pilesers, could do that? To poor me,
even in the Potsdam tempests, it is possible: what ugliest day is
not beautiful that sees a stone or two added there!--Daily Voltaire
sees himself at work on his SIECLE, on those fine terms; trowel in
one hand, weapon of war in the other. And does actually accomplish
it, in the course of this Year 1751,--with a great deal of
punctuality and severe painstaking; which readers of our day,
fallen careless of the subject, are little aware of, on Voltaire's
behalf. Voltaire's reward was, that he did NOT go mad in that
Berlin element, but had throughout a bower-anchor to ride by.
"The King of France continues me as Gentleman of the Chamber, say
you; but has taken away my Title of Historiographer? That latter,
however, shall still be my function. 'My present independence has
given weight to my verdicts on matters. Probably I never could have
written this Book at Paris.' A consolation for one's exile, MON
ENFANT." [To Niece Denis ( OEuvres, lxxiv.
247, &c. &c.), "28th October, 1750," and subsequent dates.]
It is proper also to observe that, besides shining at the King's
Suppers like no other, Voltaire applies himself honestly to do for
his Majesty the small work required of him,--that of Verse-
correcting now and then. Two Specimens exist; two Pieces
criticised, ODE AUX PRUSSIENS, and THE ART OF WAR: portions of that
Reprint now going on ("to the extent of Twelve Copies,"--woe lies
in one of them, most unexpected at this time!) "AU DONJON DU
CHATEAU;"--under benefit of Voltaire's remarks. Which one reads
curiously, not without some surprise. [In OEuvres de
Frederic, x. 276-303.] Surprise, first at Voltaire's
official fidelity; his frankness, rigorous strictness in this small
duty: then at the kind of correcting, instructing and lessoning,
that had been demanded of him by his Royal Pupil. Mere grammatical
stylistic skin-deep work: nothing (or, at least, in these Specimens
nothing) of attempt upon the interior structure, or the interior
harmony even of utterance: solely the Parisian niceties, graces,
laws of poetic language, the FAS and the NEFAS in regard to all
that: this is what his Majesty would fain be taught from the
fountain-head;--one wonders his Majesty did not learn to spell,
which might have been got from a lower source!--And all this
Voltaire does teach with great strictness. For example, in the very
first line, in the very first word, set, before him:--
"PRUSSIENS, QUE LA VALEUR CONDUISIT A LA GLOIRE," so Friedrich had
written (ODE AUX PRUSSIENS, which is specimen First); and thus
Voltaire criticises: "The Hero here makes his PRUSSIENS of two
syllables; and afterwards, in another strophe, he grants them
three. A King is master of his favors. At the same time, one does
require a little uniformity; and the IENS are usually of two
syllables, as LIENS, SILESIENS, AUTRICHIENS; excepting the
monosyllables BIEN, RIEN"--Enough, enough!--A severe, punctual,
painstaking Voltaire, sitting with the schoolmaster's bonnet on
head; ferula visible, if not actually in hand. For which, as
appears, his Majesty was very grateful to the Trismegistus of men.
Voltaire's flatteries to Friedrich, in those scattered little
Billets with their snatches of verse, are the prettiest in the
world,--and approach very near to sincerity, though seldom quite
attaining it. Something traceable of false, of suspicious, feline,
nearly always, in those seductive warblings; which otherwise are
the most melodious bits of idle ingenuity the human brain has ever
spun from itself. For instance, this heading of a Note sent from
one room to another,--perhaps with pieces of an ODE AUX PRUSSIENS
accompanying:--
"Vou gui daignez me departir
Les fruits d'une Muse divine,
O roi! je ne puis consentir
Que, sans daigner m'en avertir,
Vous alliez prendre medecine.
Je suis votre malade-ne,
Et sur la casse et le sene,
J'ai des notions non communes.
Nous sommes de mene metier;
Faut-il de moi vous defier,
Et cacher vos bonnes fortunes?"
Was there ever such a turn given to taking physic! Still better is
this other, the topic worse,--HAEMORRHOIDS (a kind of annual or
periodical affair with the Royal Patient, who used to feel
improved after):--
... (Ten or twelve verses on another point; then suddenly--)
"Que la veine hemorroidale
De votre personne royale
Cesse de troubler le repos!
Quand pourrai-je d'une style honnete
Dire: 'Le cul de mon heros
Va tout aussi bien que sa tete'?"
[In OEuvres de Frederic, xxii. 283, 267.]
A kittenish grace in these things, which is pleasant in so old
a cat.
Smelfungus says: "He is a consummate Artist in Speech, our
Voltaire: that, if you take the word SPEECH in its widest sense,
and consider the much that can be spoken, and the infinitely more
that cannot and should not, is Voltaire's supreme excellency among
his fellow-creatures; never rivalled (to my poor judgment) anywhere
before or since,--nor worth rivalling, if we knew it well."
Another fine circumstance is, that Voltaire has frequent leave of
absence; and in effect passes a great deal of his time altogether
by himself, or in his own way otherwise. What with Friedrich's
Review Journeys and Business Circuits, considerable separations do
occur of themselves; and at any time, Voltaire has but to plead
illness, which he often does; with ground and without, and get away
for weeks, safe into the distance more or less remote. He is at the
Marquisat (as we laboriously make out); at Berlin, in the empty
Palace, perhaps in Lodgings of his own (though one would prefer the
GRATIS method); nursing his maladies, which are many; writing his
LOUIS QUATORZE; "lonely altogether, your Majesty, and sad of
humor,"--yet giving his cosy little dinners, and running out,
pretty often, if well invited, into the brilliancies and gayeties.
No want of brilliant social life here, which can shine, more or
less, and appreciate one's shining. The King's Supper-parties--
Yes, and these, though the brightest, are not the only bright
things in our Potsdam-Berlin world. Take with you, reader, one or
two of the then and there Chief Figures; Voltaire's fellow-players;
strutting and fretting their hour on that Stage of Life. They are
mostly not quite strangers to you.
We know the sublime Perpetual President in his red wig, and sublime
supremacy of Pure Science. A gloomy set figure; affecting the
sententious, the emphatic and a composed impregnability,--like the
Jove of Science. With immensities of gloomy vanity, not
compressible at all times. Friedrich always strove to honor his
Perpetual President, and duly adore the Pure Sciences in him;
but inwardly could not quite manage it, though outwardly he failed
in nothing. Impartial witnesses confess, the King had a great deal
of trouble with his gloomings and him. "Who is this Voltaire?"
gloomily thinks the Perpetual President to himself. "A fellow with
a nimble tongue, that is all. Knows nothing whatever of Pure
Sciences, except what fraction or tincture he has begged or stolen
from myself. And here is the King of the world in raptures
with him!"
Voltaire from of old had faithfully done his kowtows to this King
of the Sciences; and, with a sort of terror, had suffered with
incredible patience a great deal from him. But there comes an end
to all things; Voltaire's patience not excepted. It lay in the
fates that Maupertuis should steadily accumulate, day after day,
and now more than ever heretofore, upon the sensitive Voltaire.
Till, as will be seen, the sensitive Voltaire could endure it no
longer; but had to explode upon this big Bully (accident lending a
spark); to go off like a Vesuvius of crackers, fire-serpents and
sky-rockets; envelop the red wig, and much else, in delirious
conflagration;--and produce the catastrophe of this Berlin Drama.
D'Argens, poor dissolute creature, is the best of the French lot.
He has married, after so many temporary marriages with Actresses,
one Actress in permanence, Mamsell Cochois, a patient kind being;
and settled now, at Potsdam here, into perfectly composed household
life. Really loves Friedrich, they say; the only Frenchman of them
that does. Has abundance of light sputtery wit, and Provencal fire
and ingenuity; no ill-nature against any man. Never injures
anybody, nor lies at all about anything. A great friend of fine
weather; regrets, of his inheritances in Provence, chiefly one
item, and this not overmuch,--the bright southern sun.
Sits shivering in winter-time, wrapping himself in more and more
flannel, two dressing-gowns, two nightcaps:--loyal to this King, in
good times and in evil.
Was the King's friend for thirty years; helped several meritorious
people to his Majesty's notice; and never did any man a mischief in
that quarter. An erect, guileless figure; very tall; with vivid
countenance, chaotically vivid mind: full of bright sallies,
irregular ingenuities; had a hot temper too, which did not often
run away with him, but sometimes did. He thrice made a visit to
Provence,--in fact ran away from the King, feeling bantered and
roasted to a merciless degree,--but thrice came back. "At the end
of the first stage, he had always privately forgiven the King, and
determined that the pretended visit should really be a visit only."
"Reads the King's Letters," which are many to him, "always bare-
headed, in spite of the draughts!" [Nicolai, Anekdoten,
i. 11-75, &c. &c.]
Algarotti is too prudent, politely egoistic and self-contained, to
take the trouble of hurting anybody, or get himself into trouble
for love or hatred. He fell into disfavor not long after that
unsuccessful little mission in the first Silesian War, of which the
reader has lost remembrance. Good for nothing in diplomacy, thought
Friedrich, but agreeable as company. "Company in tents, in the seat
of War, has its unpleasantness," thought Algarotti;--and began very
privately sounding the waters at Dresden for an eligible situation;
so that there has ensued a quarrel since; then humble apologies
followed by profound silence,--till now there is reconcilement.
It is admitted Friedrich had some real love for Algarotti;
Algarotti, as we gather, none at all for him; but only for his
greatness. They parted again (February, 1753) without quarrel, but
for the last time; [Algarotti-Correspondence ( OEuvres de
Frederic, xviii. 86).]--and I confess to a relief on
the occasion.
Friedrich, readers know by this time, had a great appetite for
conversation: he talked well, listened well; one of his chief
enjoyments was, to give and receive from his fellow-creatures in
that way. I hope, and indeed have evidence, that he required good
sense as the staple; but in the form, he allowed great latitude.
He by no means affected solemnity, rather the reverse; goes much
upon the bantering vein; far too much, according to the complaining
parties. Took pleasure (cruel mortal!) in stirring up his company
by the whip, and even by the whip applied to RAWS; for we find he
had "established," like the Dublin Hackney-Coachman, "raws for
himself;" and habitually plied his implement there, when desirous
to get into the gallop. In an inhuman manner, said the suffering
Cattle; who used to rebel against it, and go off in the sulks from
time to time. It is certain he could, especially in his younger
years, put up with a great deal of zanyism, ingenious foolery and
rough tumbling, if it had any basis to tumble on; though with years
he became more saturnine.
By far his chief Artist in this kind, indeed properly the only one,
was La Mettrie, whom we once saw transiently as Army-Surgeon at
Fontenoy: he is now out of all that (flung out, with the dogs at
his heels); has been safe in Berlin for three years past.
Friedrich not only tolerates the poor madcap, but takes some
pleasure in him: madcap we say, though poor La Mettrie had
remarkable gifts, exuberant laughter one of them, and was far from
intending to be mad. Not Zanyism, but Wisdom of the highest nature,
was what he drove at,--unluckily, with open mouth, and mind all in
tumult. La Mettrie had left the Army, soon after that busy Fontenoy
evening: Chivalrous Grammont, his patron and protector, who had
saved him from many scrapes, lay shot on the field. La Mettrie,
rushing on with mouth open and mind in tumult, had, from of old,
been continually getting into scrapes. Unorthodox to a degree; the
Sorbonne greedy for him long since; such his audacities in print,
his heavy hits, boisterous, quizzical, logical. And now he had set
to attacking the Medical Faculty, to quizzing Medicine in his wild
way; Doctor Astruc, Doctor This and That, of the first celebrity,
taking it very ill. So that La Mettrie had to demit; to get out of
France rather in a hurry, lest worse befell.
He had studied at Leyden, under Boerhaave. He had in fact
considerable medical and other talent, had he not been so
tumultuous and open-mouthed. He fled to Leyden; and shot forth, in
safety there, his fiery darts upon Sorbonne and Faculty, at his own
discretion,--which was always a MINIMUM quantity:--he had, before
long, made Leyden also too hot for him. His Books gained a kind of
celebrity in the world; awoke laughter and attention, among the
adventurous of readers; astonishment at the blazing madcap (a BON
DIABLE, too, as one could see); and are still known to Catalogue-
makers,--though, with one exception, L'HOMME MACHINE, not
otherwise, nor read at all. L'HOMME MACHINE (Man a Machine) is the
exceptional Book; smallest of Duodecimos to have so much wildfire
in it, This MAN A MACHINE, though tumultuous La Mettrie meant
nothing but open-mouthed Wisdom by it, gave scandal in abundance;
so that even the Leyden Magistrates were scandalized; and had to
burn the afflicting little Duodecimo by the common hangman, and
order La Mettrie to disappear instantly from their City.
Which he had to do,--towards King Friedrich, usual refuge of the
persecuted; seldom inexorable, where there was worth, even under
bad forms, recognizable; and not a friend to burning poor men or
their books, if it could be helped. La Mettrie got some post, like
D'Arget's, or still more nominal; "readership;" some small pension
to live upon; and shelter to shoot forth his wildfire, when he
could hold it no longer: fire, not of a malignant incendiary kind,
but pleasantly lambent, though maddish, as Friedrich perceived.
Thus had La Mettrie found a Goshen;--and stood in considerable
favor, at Court and in Berlin Society in the years now current.
According to Nicolai, Friedrich never esteemed La Mettrie, which is
easy to believe, but found him a jester and ingenious madcap, out
of whom a great deal of merriment could be had, over wine or the
like. To judge by Nicolai's authentic specimen, their Colloquies
ran sometimes pretty deep into the cynical, under showers of
wildfire playing about; and the high-jinks must have been highish.
[ Anekdoten, vi. 197-227.] When there had been
enough of this, Friedrich would lend his La Mettrie to the French
Excellency, Milord Tyrconnel, to oblige his Excellency, and get La
Mettrie out of the way for a while. Milord is at Berlin; a Jacobite
Irishman, of blusterous Irish qualities, though with plenty of
sagacity and rough sense; likes La Mettrie; and is not much a
favorite with Friedrich.
Tyrconnel had said, at first,--when Rothenburg, privately from
Friedrich, came to consult him, "What are, in practical form, those
'assistances from the Most Christian Majesty,' should we MAKE
Alliance with him, as your Excellency proposes, and chance to be
attacked?"--"MORBLEU, assistance enough [enumerating several]:
MAIS MORBLEU, SI VOUS NOUS TROMPEX, VOUS SEREZ ECRASES (if you
deceive us, you will be squelched)!" [Valori, ii. 130, &c.] "He had
been chosen for his rough tongue," says Valori; our French Court
being piqued at Friedrich and his sarcasms. Tyrconnel gives
splendid dinners: Voltaire often of them; does not love Potsdam,
nor is loved by it. Nay, I sometimes think a certain DEMON
NEWSWRITER (of whom by and by), but do not know, may be some hungry
Attache of Tyrconnel's. Hungry Attache, shut out from the divine
Suppers and upper planetary movements, and reduced to look on them
from his cold hutch, in a dog-like angry and hungry manner?
His flying allusions to Voltaire, "SON (Friedrich's) SQUELETTE
D'APOLLON, skeleton of an Apollo," and the like, are barkings
almost rabid.
Of the military sort, about this time, Keith and Rothenburg appear
most frequently as guests or companions. Rothenburg had a great
deal of Friedrich's regard: Winterfeld is more a practical
Counseller, and does not shine in learned circles, as Rothenburg
may. A fiery soldier too, this Rothenburg, withal;--a man probably
of many talents and qualities, though of distinctly decipherable
there is next to no record of him or them. He had a Parisian Wife;
who is sometimes on the point of coming with Niece Denis to Berlin,
and of setting up their two French households there; but never did
it, either of them, to make an Uncle or a Husband happy.
Rothenburg was bred a Catholic: "he headed the subscription for the
famous 'KATHOLISCHE KIRCHE,'" so delightful to the Pope and liberal
Christians in those years; "but never gave a sixpence of money,"
says Voltaire once: Catholic KIRK was got completed with
difficulty; stands there yet, like a large washbowl set, bottom
uppermost, on the top of a narrowish tub; but none of Rothenburg's
money is in it. In Voltaire's Correspondence there is frequent
mention of him; not with any love, but with a certain secret
respect, rather inclined to be disrespectful, if it durst or could:
the eloquent vocal individual not quite at ease beside the more
silent thinking and acting one. What we know is, Friedrich greatly
loved the man. There is some straggle of CORRESPONDENCE between
Friedrich and him left; but it is worth nothing; gives no testimony
of that, or of anything else noticeable:--and that is the one fact
now almost alone significant of Rothenburg. Much loved and esteemed
by the King; employed diplomatically, now and then; perhaps talked
with on such subjects, which was the highest distinction. Poor man,
he is in very bad health in these months; has never rightly
recovered of his wounds; and dies in the last days of 1751,--to the
bitter sorrow of the King, as is still on record. A highly
respectable dim figure, far more important in Friedrich's History
than he looks. As King's guest, he can in these months play
no part.
Highly respectable too, and well worth talking to, though left very
dim to us in the Books, is Marshal Keith; who has been growing
gradually with the King, and with everybody, ever since he came to
these parts in 1747. A man of Scotch type; the broad accent, with
its sagacities, veracities, with its steadfastly fixed moderation,
and its sly twinkles of defensive humor, is still audible to us
through the foreign wrappages. Not given to talk, unless there is
something to be said; but well capable of it then. Friedrich, the
more he knows him, likes him the better. On all manner of subjects
he can talk knowingly, and with insight of his own. On Russian
matters Friedrich likes especially to hear him,--though they differ
in regard to the worth of Russian troops. "Very considerable
military qualities in those Russians," thinks Keith: "imperturbably
obedient, patient; of a tough fibre, and are beautifully strict to
your order, on the parade-ground or off." "Pooh, mere rubbish, MON
CHER," thinks Friedrich always. To which Keith, unwilling to argue
too long, will answer: "Well, it is possible enough your Majesty
may try them, some day; if I am wrong, it will be all the better
for us!" Which Friedrich had occasion to remember by and by.
Friedrich greatly respects this sagacious gentleman with the broad
accent: his Brother, the Lord Marischal, is now in France:
Ambassador at Paris, since September, 1751: ["Left Potsdam 28th
August" (Rodenbeck, i. 220).] "Lord Marischal, a Jacobite, for
Prussian Ambassador in Paris; Tyrconnel, a Jacobite, for French
Ambassador in Berlin!" grumble the English.
FRACTIONS OF EVENTS AND INDICATIONS, FROM VOLTAIRE HIMSELF,
IN THIS TIME; MORE OR LESS ILLUMINATIVE WHEN REDUCED
TO ORDER.
Here, selected from more, are a few "fire-flies,"--not dancing or
distracted, but authentic all, and stuck each on its spit;
shedding a feeble glimmer over the physiognomy of those Fifteen
caliginous Months, to an imagination that is diligent.
Fractional utterances of Voltaire to Friedrich and others (in
abridged form, abridgment indicated): the exact dates are oftenest
irretrievably gone; but the glimmer of light is indisputable, all
the more as, on Voltaire's part, it is mostly involuntary.
Grouping and sequence must be other than that of Time.
POTSDAM, 5th JUNE, 1751.--King is off on that Ost-Friesland jaunt;
Voltaire at Potsdam, "at what they call the Marquisat," in complete
solitude,--preparing to die before long,--sends his Majesty some
poor trifles of Scribbling, proofs of my love, Sire: "since I live
solitary, when you are not at Potsdam, it would seem I came for you
only" (note that, your Majesty)! ... "But in return for the rags
here sent, I expect the Sixth Canto of your ART [ART DE LA GUERRE,
one of the Two pupil-and-schoolmaster "Specimens" mentioned above];
I expect the ROOF to the Temple of Mars. It is for you, alone of
men, to build that Temple; as it was for Ovid to sing of Love,
and for Horace to give an ART OF POETRY." (Laying it on
pretty thick!) ...
Then again, later (after severe study, ferula in hand): "Sire, I
return your Majesty your Six Cantos; I surrender at discretion (LUI
LAISSE CARTE-BLANCHE) on that qu.estion of 'VICTOIRE.' The whole
Poem is worthy of you: if I had made this Journey only to see a
thing so unique, I ought not to regret my Country." ... And again
(still no date): "GRAND DIEU! is not all that [HISTORY OF THE GREAT
ELECTOR, by your Majesty, which I am devouring with such appetite]
neat, elegant, precise, and, above all, philosophical!"--"Sire, you
are adorable; I will pass my days at your feet. Oh, never make game
of me (DES NICHES)!" Has he been at that, say you! "If the Kings of
Denmark, Portugal, Spain, &c. did it, I should not care a pin;
they are only Kings. But you are the greatest man that perhaps ever
reigned." [[In OEuvres de Frederic, xxii.
271, 273.]
IS ON LEAVE OF ABSENCE, NEAR BY; WISHES TO BE CALLED AGAIN (No
date).--"Sire, if you like free criticism, if you tolerate sincere
praises, if you wish to perfect a Work [ART DE LA GUERRE, or some
other as sublime], which you alone in Europe are capable of doing,
you have only to bid a Hermit come upstairs. At your orders for all
his life." [Ib. 261.]
IN BERLIN PALACE: PLEASE DON'T TURN ME OUT! (No date)-- ...
"Next to you, I love work and retirement. Nobody whatever complains
of me. I ask of your Majesty, in order to keep unaltered the
happiness I owe to you, this favor, Not to turn me out of the
Apartment you deigned to give me at Berlin, till I go for Paris
[always talking of that]. If I were to leave it, they would put in
the Gazettes that I"-- Oh, what would n't they put in, of one that,
belonging to King Friedrich, lives as it were in the Disc of the
Sun, conspicuous to everybody!--"I will go out [of the Apartment]
when some Prince, with a Suite needing it to lodge in, comes; and
then the thing will be honorable. Chasot [gone to Paris] has been
talking"--unguarded things of me! "I have not uttered the least
complaint of Chasot: I never will of Chasot, nor of those who
have set him on [Maupertuis belike]: I forgive everything, I!"
[Ib. 270.]
ROTHENBURG IS ILL; VOLTAIRE HAS BEEN TO SEE HIM ("Berlin, 14th," no
month; year, too surely, 1751, as we shall find! Letter is IN
VERSE).--"Lieberkuhn was going to kill poor Rothenburg; to send him
off to Pluto,--for liking his dish a little;--monster Lieberkuhn!
But Doctor Joyous," your reader, La Mettrie,--led by, need I say
whom?--"has brought him back to us:--think of Lieberkuhn's solemn
stare! Pretty contrasts, those, of sublime Quacksalverism, with
Sense under the mask of Folly. May the haemorrhoidal vein"--follows
HERE, note it, exquisite reader, that of "CUL DE MON HEROS,"
cited above!)-- ...
And then (a day or two after; King too haemorrhoidal to come twenty
miles, but anxious to know): "Sire, no doubt Doctor Joyous (LE
MEDECIN JOYEUX) has informed your Majesty that when we arrived, the
Patient was sleeping tranquil; and Cothenius assured us, in Latin,
that there was no danger. I know not what has passed since, but I
am persuaded your Majesty approves my journey" (of a street or
two),--MUST you speak of it, then!
GOES TO AN EVENING-PARTY NOW AND THEN (To Niece Denis).-- ...
"Madame Tyrconnel [French Excellency's Wife] has plenty of fine
people at her house on an evening; perhaps too many" (one of the
first houses in Berlin, this of my Lord Tyrcannel's, which we
frequent a good deal). ... "Madame got very well through her part
of ANDROMAQUE [in those old play-acting times of ours]: never saw
actresses with finer eyes,"--how should you!
"As to Milord Tyrconnel, he is an Anglais of dignity,"--Irish in
reality, and a thought blusterous. "He has a condensed (SERRE)
caustic way of talk; and I know not what of frank which one finds
in the English, and does not usually find in persons of his trade.
French Tragedies played at Berlin, I myself taking part;
an Englishman Envoy of France there: strange circumstances these,
are n't they?" [To D'Argental this ( OEuvres de Voltaire,
lxxiv. 289).] Yes, that latter especially; and Milord
Marischal our Prussian Envoy with you! Which the English note,
sulkily, as a weather-symptom.
AT POTSDAM, BIG DEVILS OF GRENADIERS (No date).-- ... "But, Sire,
one is n't always perched on the summit of Parnassus; one is a man.
There are sicknesses about; I did not bring an athlete's health to
these parts; and the scorbutic humor which is eating my life
renders me truly, of all that are sick, the sickest. I am
absolutely alone from morning till night. My one solace is the
necessary pleasure of taking the air, I bethink me of walking, and
clearing my head a little, in your Gardens at Potsdam. I fancy it
is a permitted thing; I present myself, musing;--I find huge devils
of Grenadiers, who clap bayonets in my belly, who cry FURT,
SACRAMENT, and DER KONIG [OFF, SACKERMENT, THE KING, quite
tolerably spelt]! And I take to my heels, as Austrians and Saxons
would do before them. Have you ever read, that in Titus's or
Marcus-Aurelius's Gardens, a poor devil of a Gaulish Poet"--
In short, it shall be mended. [ OEuvres de Frederic, xxii. 273.]
HAVE BEEN LAYING IT ON TOO THICK (No date; IN VERSE).--
"Marcus Aurelius was wont to"--(Well, we know who that is: What of
Marcus, then?)--"A certain lover of his glory [STILL IN VERSE]
spoke once, at Supper, of a magnanimity of Marcus's;--at which
Marcus [flattery too thick] rather gloomed, and sat quite silent,--
which was another fine saying of his [ENDS VERSE, STARTS PROSE]:--
"Pardon, Sire, some hearts that are full of you! To justify myself,
I dare supplicate your Majesty to give one glance at this Letter
(lines pencil-marked), which has just come from M. de Chauvelin,
Nephew of the famous GARDE-DES-SCEAUX. Your Majesty cannot gloom at
him, writing these from the fulness of his heart; nor at me, who"--
Pooh; no, then! Perhaps do you a NICHE again,--poor restless
fellow! [Ib. 280.]
POTSDAM PALACE (No date): SIRE, NZAY I CHANGE MY ROOM? ...
"I ascend to your antechambers, to find some one by whom I may ask
permission to speak with you. I find nobody: I have to return:"
and what I wanted was this, "your protection for my SIECLE DE LOUIS
QUATORZE, which I am about to print in Berlin." Surely,--but
also this:--
"I am unwell, I am a sick man born. And withal I am obliged to
work, almost as much as your Majesty. I pass the whole day alone.
If you would permit that I might shift to the Apartment next the
one I have,--to that where General Bredow slept last winter,--
I should work more commodiously. My Secretary (Collini) and I could
work together there. I should have a little more sun, which is a
great point for me.--Only the whim of a sick man, perhaps!
Well, even so, your Majesty will have pity on it. You promised to
make me happy." [ OEuvres de Frederic,
xxii. 277.]
I SUSPECT THAT I AM SUSPECTED (No date).--"Sire, if I am not brief,
forgive me. Yesterday the faithful D'Arget told me with sorrow that
in Paris people were talking of your Poem." Horrible; but, O Sire,
--me?--"I showed him the eighteen Letters that I received
yesterday. They are from Cadiz," all about Finance, no blabbing
there! "Permit me to send you now the last six from my Niece,
numbered by her own hand [no forgery, no suppression]; deign to
cast your eyes on the places I have underlined, where she speaks of
your Majesty, of D'Argens, of Potsdam, of D'Ammon" (to whom she
can't be Phyllis, innocent being)!-MON CHER VOLTAIRE, must I again
do some NICHE upon you, then? Tie some tin-canister to your too-
sensitive tail? What an element you inhabit within that poor skin
of yours! [Ib. 269.]
MAJESTY INVITES US TO A LITERARY CHRISTENING, POTSDAM (No date.
These "Six Twins" are the "ART DE LA GUERRE," in Six Chants;
part of that revised Edition which is getting printed "AU DONJON
DU CHATEAU;" time must be, well on in 1751). Friedrich writes
to Voltaire:--
"I have just been brought to bed of Six Twins; which require to be
baptized, in the name of Apollo, in the waters of Hippocrene.
LA HENRIADE is requested to become godmother: you will have the
goodness to bring her, this evening at five, to the Father's
Apartment. D'Arget LUCINA will be there; and the Imagination of
MAN-A-MACHINE will hold the poor infants over the Font."
[Ib. 266.]
DEIGN TO SAY IF I HAVE OFFENDED.-- ... "As they write to me from
Paris that I am in disgrace with you, I dare to beg very earnestly
that you will deign to say if I have displeased in anything! May go
wrong by ignorance or from over-zeal; but with my heart never!
I live in the profoundest retreat; giving to study my whole"--
"Your assurances once vouchsafed [famous Document of August 23d].
I write only to my Niece. I" (a page more of this)--have my sorrows
and merits, and absolutely no silence at all! [ OEuvres de
Frederic, xxii. 289.] "In the gift of Speech he is the
most brilliant of mankind," said Smelfungus; but in the gift of
Silence what a deficiency! Friedrich will have to do that for Two,
it would seem.
BERLIN, 28th DECEMBER, 1751: LOUIS QUATORZE; AND DEATH OF
ROTHENBURG.--"Our LOUIS QUATORZE is out. But, Heavens, see, your
Majesty: a Pirate Printer, at Frankfurt-on-Oder, has been going on
parallel with us, all the while; and here is his foul blotch of an
Edition on sale, too! Bielfeld," fantastic fellow, "had proof-
sheets; Bielfeld sent them to a Professor there, though I don't
blame Bielfeld: result too evident. Protect me, your Majesty;
Order all wagons, especially wagons for Leipzig, to be stopped, to
be searched, and the Books thrown out,--it costs you but a word!"
Quite a simple thing: "All Prussia to the rescue!" thinks an ardent
Proprietor of these Proof-sheets. But then, next day, hears that
Rothenburg is dead. That the silent Rothenburg lay dying, while the
vocal Voltaire was writing these fooleries, to a King sunk in
grief. "Repent, be sorry, be ashamed!" he says to himself; and does
instantly try;--but with little success; Frankfurt-on-Oder, with
its Bielfeld proof-sheets, still jangling along, contemptibly
audible, for some time. [Ib. 285-287.] And afterwards, from
Frankfurt-on-Mayn new sorrow rises on LOUIS QUATORZE, as will be
seen.--Friedrich's grief for Rothenburg was deep and severe;
"he had visited him that last night," say the Books; "and quitted
his bedside, silent, and all in tears." It is mainly what of
Biography the silent Rothenburg now has.
From the current Narratives, as they are called, readers will
recollect, out of this Voltaire Period, two small particles of
Event amid such an ocean of noisy froth,--two and hardly more:
that of the "Orange-Skin," and that of the "Dirty Linen." Let us
put these two on their basis; and pass on:--
THE ORANGE-SKIN (Potsdam, 2d September, 1751, to Niece Denis)--Good
Heavens, MON ENFANT, what is this I hear (through the great
Dionysius'-Ear I maintain, at such expense to myself)! ...
"La Mettrie, a man of no consequence, who talks familiarly with the
King after their reading; and with me too, now and then: La Mettrie
swore to me, that, speaking to the King, one of those days, of my
supposed favor, and the bit of jealousy it excites, the King
answered him: "I shall want him still about a year:--you squeeze
the orange, you throw away the skin (ON EN JETTE LECORCE)!'"
Here is a pretty bit of babble (lie, most likely, and bit of
mischievous fun) from Dr. Joyous. "It cannot be true, No! And yet--
and yet--?" Words cannot express the agonizing doubts, the
questionings, occasionally the horror of Voltaire: poor sick soul,
keeping a Dionysius'-Ear to boot! This blurt of La Mettrie's goes
through him like a shot of electricity through an elderly sick
Household-Cat; and he speaks of it again and ever again,--though we
will not farther.
DIRTY LINEN (Potsdam, 24th July, 1752, To Niece Denis).-- ...
"Maupertuis has discreetly set the rumor going, that I found the
King's Works very bad; that I said to some one, on Verses from the
King coming in, 'Will he never tire, then, of sending me his dirty
linen to wash?' You obliging Maupertuis!"
Rumor says, it was General Mannstein, once Aide-de-Camp in Russia,
who had come to have his WORK ON RUSSIA revised (excellent Work,
often quoted by us [Did get out at last,--in England, through Lord
Marischal and David Hume: see PREFACE to it (London, 1760).]), when
the unfortunate Royal Verses came. Perhaps M. de Voltaire did say
it:--why not, had it only been prudent? He really likes those
Verses much more than I; but knows well enough, SUB ROSA, what kind
of Verses they are. This also is a horrible suspicion; that the
King should hear of this,--as doubtless the King did, though
without going delirious upon it at all. ["To Niece Denis," dates as
above ( OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiv. 408,
lxxv. 17).] Thank YOU, my Perpetual President, not the less!--
OF MAUPERTUIS, IN SUCCESSIVE PHASES.-- ... "Maupertuis is not of
very engaging ways; he takes my dimensions harshly with his
quadrant: it is said there enters something of envy into his DATA.
... A somewhat surly gentleman; not too sociable; and, truth to
say, considerably sunk here [ASSEZ BAISSE, my D'Argental].
... "I endure Maupertuis, not having been able to soften him.
In all countries there are insociable fellows, with whom you are
obliged to live, though it is difficult. He has never forgiven me
for"--omitting to cite him, &c.--At Paris he had got the Academy of
Sciences into trouble, and himself into general dislike (DETESTER);
then came this Berlin offer. "Old Fleuri, when Maupertuis called to
take leave, repeated that verse of Virgil, NEC TIBI REGNANDI VENIAT
TAM DIRA CUPIDO. Fleuri might have whispered as much to himself:
but he was a mild sovereign lord, and reigned in a gentle polite
manner. I swear to you, Maupertuis does not, in his shop [the
Academy here]--where, God be thanked, I never go.
"He has printed a little Pamphlet on Happiness (SUR LE BONHEUR);
it is very dry and miserable. Reminds you of Advertisements for
things lost,--so poor a chance of finding them again. Happiness is
not what he gives to those who read him, to those who live with
him; he is not himself happy, and would be sorry that others were
[to Niece Denis this].
... "A very sweet life here, Madame [Madame d'Argental, an outside
party]: it would have been more so, if Maupertuis had liked.
The wish to please, is no part of his geometrical studies;
the problem of being agreeable to live with, is not one he has
solved." [ OEuvres de Voltaire, lxxiv. 330,
504 (4th May, 1751, and 14th March, 1752), to the D'Argentals;
to Niece Denis (6th November, 1750, and 24th August, 1751), lxxiv.
250, 385.]--Add this Anecdote, which is probably D'Arget's, and
worth credit:--
"Voltaire had dinner-party, Maupertuis one of them; party still in
the drawing-room, dinner just coming up. 'President, your Book, SUR
LE BONHEUR, has given me pleasure,' said Voltaire, politely [very
politely, considering what we have just read]; given me pleasure,--
a few obscurities excepted, of which we will talk together some
evening.' 'Obscurities?' said Maupertuis, in a gloomy arbitrary
tone: 'There may be such for you, Monsieur!' Voltaire laid his hand
on the President's shoulder [yellow wig near by], looked at him in
silence, with many-twinkling glance, gayety the topmost expression,
but by no means the sole one: 'President, I esteem you, JE VOUS
ESTIME, MON PRESIDENT: you are brave; you want war: we will have
it. But, in the mean while, let us eat the King's roast meat.'"
[Duvernet (2d FORM of him, always, p. 176.]
Friedrich's Answers to these Voltaire Letters, if he wrote any, are
all gone. Probably he answered almost nothing; what we have of his
relates always to specific business, receipt of LOUIS QUATORZE, and
the like; and is always in friendly tone. Handsomely keeping
Silence for Two! Here is a snatch from him, on neutral figures and
movements of the time:--
FRIEDRICH TO WIILHELMINA (November 17th, 1751).--"I think the
Margraf of Anspach will not have stayed long with you. He is not
made to taste the sweets of society: his passion for hunting, and
the tippling life he leads this long time, throw him out when he
comes among reasonable persons. ... "I expect my Sister of
Brunswick, with the Duke and their eldest Girl, the 4th of next
month,"--to Carnival here. "It is seven years since the Queen (our
Mamma) has seen her. She holds a small Board of Wit at Brunswick;
of which your Doctor [Doctor Superville, Dutch-French, whose
perennial merit now is, That he did not burn Wilhelmina's MEMOIRS,
but left them safe to posterity, for long centuries],--of which
your Doctor is the director and oracle. You would burst outright
into laughing when she speaks of those matters. Her natural
vivacity and haste has not left her time to get to the bottom of
anything; she skips continually from one subject to the other, and
gives twenty decisions in a minute." [ OEuvres de Frederic,
xxvii. i. 202:--On Superville, see Preuss's Note,
ib. 56.]
About a month before Rothenburg's death, which was so tragical to
Friedrich, there had fallen out, with a hideous dash of farce in
it, the death of La Mettrie. Here are Two Accounts, by different
hands,--which represent to us an immensity of babble in the then
Voltaire circle.
LA METTRIE DIES.--Two Accounts: 1. King Friedrich's: to Wilhelmina.
"21st November, 1751. ... We have lost poor La Mettrie. He died for
a piece of fun: ate, out of banter, a whole pheasant-pie; had a
horrible indigestion; took it into his head to have blood let, and
convince the German Doctors that bleeding was good in indigestion.
But it succeeded ill with him: he took a violent fever, which
passed into putrid; and carried him off. He is regretted by all
that knew him. He was gay; BON DIABLE, good Doctor, and very bad
Author: by avoiding to read his Books, one could manage to be well
content with himself." [Ib. xxvii. i. 203.]
2. Voltaire's: to Niece Denis (NOT his first to her): Potsdam, 24th
December, 1751. ... "No end to my astonishment. Milord Tyrconnel,"
always ailing (died here himself), "sends to ask La Mettrie to come
and see him, to cure him or amuse him. The King grudges to part
with his Reader, who makes him laugh. La Mettrie sets out;
arrives at his Patient's just when Madame Tyrconnel is sitting down
to table: he eats and drinks, talks and laughs more than all the
guests; when he has got crammed (EN A JUSQU'AU MENTON), they bring
him a pie, of eagle disguised as pheasant, which had arrived from
the North, plenty of bad lard, pork-hash and ginger in it;
my gentleman eats the whole pie, and dies next day at Lord
Tyrconnel's, assisted by two Doctors," Cothenius and Lieberkuhn,
"whom he used to mock at. ... How I should have liked to ask him,
at the article of death, about that Orange-skin!" [ OEuvres
de Voltaire, lxxiv. 439, 450.]
Add this trait too, from authentic Nicolai, to complete the matter:
"An Irish Priest, Father Macmahon, Tyrconnel's Chaplain [more power
to him], wanted to convert La Mettrie: he pushed into the sick-
room;--encouraged by some who wished to make La Mettrie
contemptible to Friedrich [the charitable souls]. La Mettrie would
have nothing to do with this Priest and his talk; who, however,
still sat and waited. La Mettrie, in a twinge of agony, cried out,
'JESUS MARIE!' 'AH, VOUS VOILA ENFIN RETOURNE A CES NOMS
CONSOLATEURS!' exclaimed the Irishman. To which La Mettrie answered
(in polite language, to the effect), 'Bother you!' and expired a
few minutes after." [Nicolai, Anekdoten,
i. 20 n.]
Enough of this poor madcap. Friedrich's ELOGE of him, read to the
Academy some time after, it was generally thought (and with great
justice), might as well have been spared. The Piece has nothing
noisy, nothing untrue; but what has it of importance? And surely
the subject was questionable, or more. La Mettrie might have done
without Eulogy from a King of men.
... "He had been used to put himself at once on the most familiar
footing with the King [says Thiebault, UNbelievable]. Entered the
King's apartment as he would that of a friend; plunged down
whenever he liked, which was often, and lay upon the sofas; if it
was warm, took off his stock, unbuttoned his waistcoat, flung his
periwig on the floor;" [Thiebault, v. 405 (calls him "La Metherie;"
knows, as usual, nothing).]--highly probable, thinks
stupid Thiebault!
"The truth is," says Nicolai, "the King put no real value on La
Mettrie. He considered him as a merry-andrew fellow, who might
amuse you, when half seas-over (ENTRE DEUX VINS). De la Mettrie
showed himself unworthy of any favor he had. Not only did he
babble, and repeat about Town what he heard at the King's table;
but he told everything in a false way, and with malicious twists
and additions. This he especially did at Lord Tyrconnel, the then
French Ambassador's table, where at last he died." [Nicolai,
Anekdoten, i. 20.] But could not take the
ORANGE-SKIN along with him; alas, no!--
On the whole, be not too severe on poor Voltaire! He is very
fidgety, noisy; something of a pickthank, of a wheedler; but, above
all, he is scorbutic, dyspeptic; hag-ridden, as soul seldom was;
and (in his oblique way) APPEALS to Friedrich and us,--not in vain.
And, in short, we perceive, after the First Act of the Piece,
beginning in preternatural radiances, ending in whirlwinds of
flaming soot, he has been getting on with his Second Act better
than could be expected. Gyrating again among the bright planets,
circum-jovial moons, in the Court Firmament; is again in favor, and
might-- Alas, he had his FELLOW-moons, his Maupertuis above all!
Incurable that Maupertuis misery; gets worse and worse, steadily
from the first day. No smallest entity that intervenes, not even a
wandering La Beaumelle with his Book of PENSEES, but is capable of
worsening it. Take this of Smelfungus; this Pair of Cabinet
Sketches,--"hasty outlines; extant chiefly," he declares, "by
Voltaire's blame:"--
LA BEAUMELLE.--"Voltaire has a fatal talent of getting into I
quarrels with insignificant accidental people; and instead of
silently, with cautious finger, disengaging any bramble that
catches to him, and thankfully passing on, attacks it indignantly
with potent steel implements, wood-axes, war-axes; brandishing and
hewing;--till he has stirred up a whole wilderness of bramble-bush,
and is himself bramble-chips all over. M. Angliviel de la
Beaumelle, for example, was nothing but a bramble: some conceited
Licentiate of Theology, who, finding the Presbytery of Geneva too
narrow a field, had gone to Copenhagen, as Professor of Rhetoric or
some such thing; and, finding that field also too narrow, and not
to be widened by attempts at Literature, MES PENSEES and the like,
in such barbarous Country",--had now [end of 1751] come to Berlin;
and has Presentation copies of MES PENSEES, OU LE QU'EN DIRA-T-ON,
flying right and left, in hopes of doing better there. Of these
PENSEES (Thoughts so called) I will give but one specimen"
(another, that of "King Friedrich a common man," being carefully
suppressed in the Berlin Copies, of La Beaumelle's distributing):--
"There have been greater Poets than Voltaire; there was never any
so well recompensed: and why? Because Taste (GOUT, inclination)
sets no limits to its recompenses. The King of Prussia overloads
men of talent with his benefits for precisely the reasons which
induce a little German Prince to overload with benefits a buffoon
or a dwarf." [ OEuvres de Voltaire, xxvii.
220 n.] Could there be a phenomenon more indisputably of
bramble nature?
"He had no success at Berlin, in spite of his merits; could not
come near the King at all; but assiduously frequented Maupertuis,
the flower of human thinkers in that era,--who was very humane to
him in consequence. 'How is it, O flower of human thinkers, that I
cannot get on with his Majesty, or make the least way?' (HELAS,
MONSIEUR, you have enemies!' answered he of the red wig; and told
La Beaumelle (hear it, ye Heavens), That M. de Voltaire had called
his Majesty's attention to the PENSEE given above, one evening at
Supper Royal; 'heard it myself, Monsieur--husht!' Upon which--
"'Upon which, see, paltry La Beaumelle has become my enemy for
life!' shrieks Voltaire many times afterwards: 'And it was false, I
declare to Heaven, and again declare; it was not I, it was D'Argens
quizzing me about it, that called his Majesty's attention to that
PENSEE of Blockhead La Beaumelle,--you treacherous Perpetual
President, stirring up enemies against me, and betraying secrets of
the King's table.' Sorrow on your red wig, and you!--It is certain
La Beaumelle, soon after this, left Berlin: not in love with
Voltaire. And there soon appeared, at Franfurt-on-Mayn, a Pirate
Edition of our brand-new SIECLE DE LOUIS QUATORZE (with Annotations
scurrilous and flimsy);--La Beaumelle the professed Perpetrator;
'who received for the job 7 pounds 10s. net!' [Ib. xx.] asseverates
the well-informed Voltaire. Oh, M. de Voltaire, and why not leave
it to him, then? Poor devil, he got put into the Bastille too, by
and by; Royal Persons being touched by some of his stupid
foot-notes.
"La Beaumelle had a long course of it, up and down the world, in
and out of the Bastille; writing much, with inconsiderable
recompense, and always in a wooden manure worthy of his First
vocation in the Geneva time. 'A man of pleasing physiognomy,' says
Formey, 'and expressed himself well. I received his visit 14th
January, 1752,'--to which latter small circumstance (welcome as a
fixed date to us here) La Beaumelle's Biography is now pretty much
reduced for mankind. [Formey, ii. 221.] He continued Maupertuis's
adorer: and was not a bad creature, only a dull wooden one, with
obstinate temper. A LIFE OF MAUPERTUIS of his writing was sent
forth lately, [ Vie de Maupertuis (cited
above), Paris, 1866.] after lying hidden a hundred years: but it is
dull, dead, painfully ligneous, like all the rest; and of new or of
pleasant tells us nothing.
"His enmity to M. de Voltaire did prove perpetual:--a bramble that
might have been dealt with by fingers, or by fingers and scissors,
but could not by axes, and their hewing and brandishing. 'This is
the ninety-fifth anonymous Calumny of La Beaumelle's, this that you
have sent me!' says Voltaire once. The first stroke or two had torn
the bramble quite on end: 'He says he will pursue you to Hell
even,' writes one of the Voltaire kind friends from Frankfurt, on
that 7 pounds 10s. business. 'A L'ENFER?' answers M. de Voltaire,
with a toss: 'Well, I should think so, he, and at a good rate of
speed. But whether he will find me there, must be a question!'
If you want to have an insignificant accidental fellow trouble you
all your days, this is the way of handling him when he first
catches hold."
ABBE DE PRADES.--"De Prades, 'Abbe de Prades, Reader to the King,'
though happily not an enemy of Voltaire's, is in some sort La
Beaumelle's counterpart, or brother with a difference; concerning
whom also, one wants only to know the exact date of his arrival.
As La Beaumelle felt too strait-tied in the Geneva vestures (where
it had been good for him to adjust himself, and stay); so did De
Prades in the Sorbonne ditto,--and burst out, on taking Orders, not
into eloquent Preachings or edifying Devotional Exercises; but into
loud blurts of mere heresy and heterodoxy. Blurts which were very
loud, and I believe very stupid; which failed of being sublime even
to the Philosophic world; and kindled the Sorbonne into burning his
Book, and almost burning himself, had not he at once run for it.
"Ran to Holland, and there continued blurting more at large,--
decidedly stupid for most part, thinks Voltaire, 'but with glorious
Passages, worth your Majesty's attention;'--upon which, D'Alembert
too helping, poor De Prades was invited to the Readership, vacant
by La Mettrie's eagle-pie; and came gladly, and stayed. At what
date? one occasionally asks: for there are Royal Letters, dateless,
but written in his hand, that raise such question in the utter
dimness otherwise. Date is 'September, 1752.' [Preuss, i. 368; ii.
115.] Farther question one does not ask about De Prades. Rather an
emphatic intrusive kind of fellow, I should guess;--wrote, he, not
Friedrich, that ABRIDGMENT OF PLEURY'S ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY, and
other the like dreary Pieces, which used to be inflicted on mankind
as Friedrich's.
"For the rest, having place and small pension,--not, like La
Beaumelle, obliged to pirate and annotate for 7 pounds 10s.--he
went on steadily, a good while; got a Canonry of Glogau [small
Catholic benefice, bad if it was not better than its now occupant];
--and unluckily, in the Seven-Years-War time, fell into
treasonous Correspondence with his countrymen; which it was feared
might be fatal, when found out. But no, not fatal. Friedrich did
lock him in Magdeburg for some months; then let him out: 'Home to
Glogau, sirrah; stick to your Canonry henceforth, and let us hear
no more of you at all!' Which shall be his fate in these
pages also."
Good, my friend; no more of him, then! Only recollect "September,
1752," if dateless Royal Letters in De Prades's hand turn up.
Chapter X.
DEMON NEWSWRITER, OF 1752.
It must be owned, the King's French Colony of Wits were a sorry set
of people. They tempt one to ask, What is the good of wit, then, if
this be it? Here are people sparkling with wit, and have not
understanding enough to discern what lies under their nose.
Cannot live wisely with anybody, least of all with one another.
In fact, it is tragic to think how ill this King succeeded in the
matter of gathering friends. With the whole world to choose from,
one fancies always he might have done better! But no, he could not;
--and chiefly for this reason: His love of Wisdom was nothing like
deep enough, reverent enough; and his love of ESPRIT (the mere
Garment or Phantasm of Wisdom) was too deep. Friends do not drop
into one's mouth. One must know how to choose friends; and that of
ESPRIT, though a pretty thing, is by no means the one requisite, if
indeed it be a requisite at all. This present Wit Colony was the
best that Friedrich ever had; and we may all see how good it was.
He took, at last more and more, into bantering his Table-Companions
(which I do not wonder at), as the chief good he could get of them.
And had, as we said, especially in his later time, in the manner of
Dublin Hackney-Coachmen, established upon each animal its RAW; and
makes it skip amazingly at touch of the whip. "Cruel mortal!"
thought his cattle:--but, after all, how could he well help it,
with such a set?
Native Literary Men, German or Swiss, there also were about
Friedrich's Court: of them happily he did not require ESPRIT; but
put them into his Academy; or employed them in practical functions,
where honesty and good sense were the qualities needed. Worthy men,
several of these; but unmemorable nearly all. We will mention
Sulzer alone,--and not for THEORIES and PHILOSOPHIES OF THE FINE
ARTS [ Allgemeine Theorie der Schonen Kunste,
3 vols.; &c. &c.] (which then had their multitudes of readers);
but for a Speech of Friedrich's to him once, which has often been
repeated. Sulzer has a fine rugged wholesome Swiss-German
physiognomy, both of face and mind; and got his admirations, as the
Berlin HUGH BLAIR that then was: a Sulzer whom Friedrich always
rather liked.
Friedrich had made him School Inspector; loved to talk a little
with him, about business, were it nothing else. "Well, Monsieur
Sulzer, how are your Schools getting on?" asked the King one
day,--long after this, but nobody will tell me exactly when, though
the fact is certain enough: "How goes our Education business?"
"Surely not ill, your Majesty; and much better in late years,"
answered Sulzer.--"In late years: why?" "Well, your Majesty, in
former time, the notion being that mankind were naturally inclined
to evil, a system of severity prevailed in schools: but now, when
we recognize that the inborn inclination of men is rather to good
than to evil, schoolmasters have adopted a more generous
procedure."--"Inclination rather to good?" said Friedrich, shaking
his old head, with a sad smile: "Alas, dear Sulzer, ACH MEIN LIEBER
SULZER, I see you don't know that damned race of creatures (ER
KENNT NICHT DIESE VERDAMMTE RACE) as I do!" [Nicolai, iii.
274;--the thing appears to have been said in French ("JE VOIS BIEN,
MON CHER SULZER, QUE VOUS NE CONNAISSEZ PAS, COMME MOI, CETTE RACE
MAUDITE A LAQUELLE NOUS APPARTENONS"); but the German form is
irresistibly attractive, and is now heard proverbially from time to
time in certain mouths.] Here is a speech for you! "Pardon the
King, who was himself so beneficent and excellent a King!" cry
several Editors of the rose-pink type. This present Editor, for his
share, will at once forgive; but how can he ever forget!--
"Perhaps I mistake," owns Voltaire, in his Pasquinade of a VIE
PRIVEE, "but it seems to me, at these Suppers there was a great
deal of ESPRIT (real wit and brilliancy) going. The King had it,
and made others have; and, what is extraordinary, I never felt
myself so free at any table." "Conversation most pleasant,"
testifies another, "most instructive, animated; not to be matched,
I should guess, elsewhere in the world." [Bielfeld, LETTERS;
Voltaire, Vie Privee.] Very sprightly indeed: and a fund of good
sense, a basis of practicality and fact, necessary to be in it
withal; though otherwise it can foam over (if some La Mettrie be
there, and a good deal of wine in him) to very great heights.
A DEMON NEWSWRITER GIVES AN "IDEA" OF FRIEDRICH;
INTELLIGIBLE TO THE KNOWING CLASSES IN ENGLAND
AND ELSEWHERE.
Practically, I can add only, That these Suppers of the gods begin
commonly at half-past eight ("Concert just over"); and last till
towards midnight,--not later conveniently, as the King must be up
at five (in Summer-time at four), and "needs between five and six
hours of sleep." Or would the reader care to consult a Piece
expressly treating on all these points; kind of MANUSCRIPT
NEWSPAPER, fallen into my hands, which seems to have had a widish
circulation in its day. ["IDEE DE LA PERSONNE, DE LA MANIERE DE
VIVRE, ET DE LA COUR DU ROI DE PRUSSE: juin, 1752." In the
Robinson Papers (one Copy) now in the British Museum.]
I have met with Two Copies of it, in this Country: one of them, to
appearance, once the property of George Selwyn. The other is among
the Robinson Papers: doubtless very luculent to Robinson, who is
now home in England, but remembers many a thing. Judging from
various symptoms, I could guess this MS. to have been much about,
in the English Aristocratic Circles of that time; and to have, in
some measure, given said Circles their "Idea" (as they were pleased
to reckon it) of that wonderful and questionable King:--highly
distracted "Idea;" which, in diluted form, is still the staple
English one.
By the label, DEMON NEWSWRITER, it is not meant that the Author of
this poor Paper was an actual Devil, or infernal Spiritual Essence
of miraculous spectral nature. By no means! Beyond doubt, he is
some poor Frenchman, more or less definable as flesh-and-blood;
gesturing about, visibly, at Berlin in 1752; in cocked-hat and
bright shoe-buckles; grinning elaborate salutations to certain of
his fellow-creatures there. Possibly some hungry ATTACHE of Milord
Tyrconnel's Legation; fatally shut out from the beatitudes of this
barbarous Court, and willing to seek solacement, and turn a
dishonest penny, in the PER-CONTRA course? Who he is, we need not
know or care: too evident, he has the sad quality of transmuting,
in his dirty organs, heavenly Brilliancy, more or less, into
infernal Darkness and Hatefulness; which I reckon to have been, at
all times, the principal function of a Devil;--function still
carried on extensively, under Firms of another title, in
this world.
Some snatches we will give. For, though it does not much concern a
Man or King, seriously busy, what the idle outer world may see good
to talk of him, his Biographers, in time subsequent, are called to
notice the matter, as part of his Life-element, and characteristic
of the world he had round him. Friedrich's affairs were much a
wonder to his contemporaries. Especially his Domesticities, an item
naturally obscure to the outer world, were wonderful; sure to be
commented upon, to all lengths; and by the unintelligent, first of
all. Of contemporary mankind, as we have sometimes said, nobody was
more lied of:--of which, let this of the Demon Newswriter be
example, one instead of many. The Demon Newswriter, deriving only
from outside gossip and eavesdropping, is wrong very often,--in
fact, he is seldom right, except on points which have been
Officially fixed, and are within reach of an inquisitive Clerk of
Legation. Wrong often enough, even in regard to external
particulars, how much more as to internal;--and will need checking,
as we go along.
Demon speaks first of Friedrich's stature, 5ft. 6in. (as we know
better than this Demon); "pretty well proportioned, not handsome,
and even something of awkward (GAUCHE), acquired by a constrained
bearing [head slightly off the perpendicular, acquired by his
flute, say the better-informed]. Is of the greatest politeness.
Fine tone of voice,--fine even in swearing, which is as common with
him as with a grenadier," adds this Demon; not worth attending to,
on such points.
"Has never had a nightcap [sleeps bareheaded; in his later times,
would sleep in his hat, which was always soft as duffel, kneaded to
softness as its first duty, and did very well]: Never a nightcap,
dressing-gown, or pair of slippers [TRUE]; only a kind of cloth
cloak [NOT QUITE], much worn and very dirty, for being powdered in.
The whole year round he goes in the uniform of his First Battalion
of Guards:--blue with red facings, button-hole trimmings in silver,
frogs at the inner end; his coat buttons close to the shape;
waistcoat is plain yellow [straw-color]; hat [three-cornered] has
edging of Spanish lace, white plume [horizontal, resting on the
lace all round]: boots on his legs all his life. He cannot walk
with shoes [pooh, you--!].
"He rises daily at five:"--No, he does n't at all! In fact, we had
better clap the lid on this Demon, ill-informed as to all these
points; and, on such suggestion, give the real account of them,
distilled from Preuss, and the abundant authentic sources.
Preuss says (if readers could but remember him): "An Almanac lies
on the King's Table, marking for each day what specific duties the
day will bring. From five to six hours of sleep: in summer he rises
about three, seldom after four; in winter perhaps an hour later.
In his older time, seven hours' sleep came to be the stipulated
quantity; and he would sleep occasionally eight hours or even nine,
in certain medical predicaments. Not so in his younger years:
four A.M. and five, the set hours then. Summer and winter, fire is
lighted for him a quarter of an hour before. King rises; gets into
his clothes: 'stockings, breeches, boots, he did sitting on the
bed' (for one loves to be particular); the rest in front of the
fire, in standing posture. Washing followed; more compendious than
his Father's used to be.
"Letters specifically to his address, a courier (leaving Berlin,
9 P.M.) had brought him in the dead of night: these, on the instant
of the King's calling 'Here!' a valet in the ante chamber brought
in to him, to be read while his hair was being done. His uniform
the King did not at once put on; but got into a CASAQUIN [loose
article of the dressing-gown kind, only shorter than ours] of rich
stuff, sometimes of velvet with precious silver embroideries.
These Casaquins were commonly sky-blue (which color he liked),
presents from his Sisters and Nieces. Letters being glanced over,
and hair-club done, the Life-guard General-Adjutant hands in the
Potsdam Report (all strangers that have entered Potsdam or left it,
the principal item): this, with a Berlin Report, which had come
with the Letters; and what of Army-Reports had arrived (Adjutant-
General delivering these),--were now glanced over. And so, by five
o'clock in the summer morning, by six in the winter, one sees, in
the gross, what one's day's-work is to be; the miscellaneous STONES
of it are now mostly here, only mortar and walling of them to be
thought of. General-Adjutant and his affairs are first settled:
on each thing a word or two, which the General-Adjutant (always a
highly confidential Officer, a Hacke, a Winterfeld, or the like)
pointedly takes down.
"General-Adjutant gone, the King, in sky-blue casaquin [often in
very faded condition] steps into his writing-room; walks about,
reading his Letters more completely; drinking, first, several
glasses of water; then coffee, perhaps three cups with or without
milk [likes coffee, and very strong]. After coffee he takes his
flute; steps about practising, fantasying: he has been heard to
say, speaking of music and its effects on the soul, That during
this fantasying he would get to considering all manner of things,
with no thought of what he was playing; and that sometimes even the
luckiest ideas about business-matters have occurred to him while
dandling with the flute. Sauntering so, he is gradually
breakfasting withal: will eat, intermittently, small chocolate
cakes; and after his coffee, cherries, figs, grapes, fruits in
their season [very fond of fruit, and has elaborate hot-houses].
So passes the early morning.
"Between nine and ten, most of one's plan-work being got through,
the questions of the day are settled, or laid hold of for settling.
Between nine and ten, King takes to reading the 'Excerpts'
(I suppose, of the more intricate or lengthier things) of
Yesterday, which his three Cabinet Raths [Clerk Eichel and the
other Two] have prepared for him. King summons these Three, one
after the other, according to their Department; hands them the
Letters just read, the Excerpts now decided on, and signifies, in a
minimum of words, what the answers are to be,--Clerk, always in
full dress, listening with both his ears, and pencil in hand.
May have, of Answers, CABINET-ORDERS so called, perhaps a dozen, to
be ready with before evening. ["In a certain Copy or Final-Register
Book [Herr Preuss's Windfall, of which INFRA] entitled
KABINETSORDENKOPIALBUCH, of One of the three Clerks, years
1746-1752, there are, on the average, ten CABINET-ORDERS daily,
Sundays included" (Preuss, i. 352 n.).]
"Eichel and Company dismissed, King flings off his casaquin, takes
his regimental coat; has his hair touched off with pomade, with
powder; and is buttoned and ready in about five minutes;--ready for
Parade, which is at the stroke of eleven, instead of later, as it
used to be in Papa's time. If eleven is not yet come, he will get
on horseback; go sweeping about, oftenest with errands still, at
all events in the free solitude of air, till Parade-time do come.
The Parole [Sentry's-WORD of the Day] he has already given his
Adjutant-General. Parole, which only the Adjutant and Commandant
had known till now, is formally given out; and the troops go
through their exercises, manoeuvres, under a strictness of
criticism which never abates." "Parade he by no chance ever
misses," says our Demon friend.
"At the stroke of twelve," continues Preuss, "dinner is served.
Dinner threefold; that is, a second table and a third. Only two
courses, dishes only eight, even at the King's Table, (eight also
at the Marshal's or second Table); guests from seven to ten.
Dinner plentiful and savory (for the King had his favorites among
edibles), by no means caring to be splendid,--yearly expense of
threefold Dinner (done accurately by contract) was 1,800 pounds."
Linsenbarth we saw at the Third Table, and how he fared.
"The dinner-service was of beautiful porcelain; not silver, still
less gold, except on the grandest occasions. Every guest eats at
discretion,--of course!--and drinks at discretion, Moselle or
Pontac [kind of claret]; Champagne and Hungary are handed round on
the King's signal. King himself drinks Bergerac, or other clarets,
with water. Dinner lasts till two;--if the conversation be
seductive, it has been known to stretch to four. The King's great
passion is for talk of the right kind; he himself talks a great
deal, tippling wine-and-water to the end, and keeps on a level with
the rising tide.
"With a bow from Majesty, dinner ends; guests gently, with a little
saunter of talk to some of them, all vanish; and the King is in his
own Apartment again. Generally flute-playing for about half an
hour; till Eichel and the others come with their day's work:
tray-loads of Cabinet-Orders, I can fancy; which are to be
'executed,' that is, to be glanced through, and signed.
Signature for most part is all; but there are Marginalia and
Postscripts, too, in great number, often of a spicy biting
character; which, in our time, are in request among the curious."
Herr Preuss, who has right to speak, declares that the spice of
mockery has been exaggerated; and that serious sense is always the
aim both of Document and of Signer. Preuss had a windfall;
12,000 of these Pieces, or more, in a lump, in the way of gift;
which fell on him like manna,--and led, it is said, to those
Friedrich studies, extensive faithful quarryings in that vast
wilderness of sliding shingle and chaotic boulders.
"Coffee follows this despatch of Eichel and Consorts; the day now
one's own." Scandalous rumors, prose and verse, connect themselves
with this particular epoch of the day; which appear to be wholly
LIES. Of which presently. "In this after-dinner period fall the
literary labors," says Preuss:--a facile pen, this King's; only two
hours of an afternoon allowed it, instead of all day and the top of
the morning. "About six, or earlier even, came the Reader [La
Mettrie or another], came artists, came learned talk. At seven is
Concert, which lasts for an hour; half-past eight is Supper."
[Preuss, i. 344-347 (and, with intermittencies, pp. 356, 361, 363
&c. to 376), abridged.]
Demon Newswriter says, of the Concert: "It is mostly of wind-
instruments," King himself often taking part with his flute;
"performers the best in Europe. He has three"--what shall we call
them? of male gender,--"a counter-alt, and Mamsell Astrua, an
Italian; they are unique voices. He cannot bear mediocrity. It is
but seldom he has any singing here. To be admitted, needs the most
intimate favor; now and then some young Lord, of distinction, if he
meet with such." Concert, very well;--but let us now, suppressing
any little abhorrences, hear him on another subject:--
"Dinner lasts one hour [says our Demon, no better informed]:
upon which the King returns to his Apartment with bows. It pretty
often happens that he takes with him one of his young fellows.
These are all handsome, like a picture (FAITS A PEINDRE), and of
the beautifulest face,"--adds he, still worse informed;
poisonous malice mixing itself, this time, with the human darkness,
and reducing it to diabolic. This Demon's Paper abounds with
similar allusions; as do the more desperate sort of Voltaire
utterances,--VIE PRIVEE treating it as known fact; Letters to Denis
in occasional paroxysms, as rumor of detestable nature, probably
true of one who is so detestable, at least so formidable, to a
guilty sinner his Guest. Others, not to be called diabolical, as
Herr Dr. Busching, for example, speak of it as a thing credible;
as good as known to the well-informed. And, beyond the least
question, there did a thrice-abominable rumor of that kind run,
whispering audibly, over all the world; and gain belief from those
who had appetite. A most melancholy business. Solacing to human
envy;--explaining also, to the dark human intellect, why this King
had commonly no Women at his Court. A most melancholy portion of my
raw-material, this; concerning which, since one must speak of it,
here is what little I have to say:--
1. That proof of the NEGATIVE, in this or in any such case, is by
the nature of it impossible. That it is indisputable Friedrich did
not now live with his Wife, nor seem to concern himself with the
empire of women at all; having, except now and then his Sisters and
some Foreign Princess on short visit, no women in his Court;
and though a great judge of Female merits, graces and
accomplishments, seems to worship women in that remote way alone,
and not in any nearer. Which occasioned great astonishment in a
world used so much to the contrary. And gave rise to many
conjectures among the idle of mankind, "What, on Earth, or under
Earth, can be the meaning of it?"--and among others, to the above
scandalous rumor, as some solacement to human malice and
impertinent curiosity.
2. That an opposite rumor--which would indeed have been pretty
fatal to this one, but perhaps still more disgraceful in the eyes
of a Demon Newswriter--was equally current; and was much elaborated
by the curious impertinent. Till Nicolai got hold of it, in Herr
Dr. Zimmermann's responsible hands; and conclusively knocked it on
the head. [See Zimmermann's Fragmente, and
Nicolai patiently pounding it to powder (whoever is curious on this
disgusting subject).]
3". That, for me, proof in the affirmative, or probable
indication that way, has not anywhere turned up. Nowhere for me, in
these extensive minings and siftings. Not the least of probable
indication; but contrariwise, here and there, rather definite
indications pointing directly the opposite way. [For example
("CORRESPONDENCE WITH FREDERSDORF"), OEuvres,
xxvii. iii. 145.] Friedrich, in his own utterances and occasional
rhymes, is abundantly cynical; now and then rises to a kind of epic
cynicism, on this very matter. But at no time can the painful
critic call it cynicism as of OTHER than an observer; always a kind
of vinegar cleanness in it, EXCEPT in theory. Cynicism of an
impartial observer in a dirty element; observer epically sensible
(when provoked to it) of the brutal contemptibilities which lie in
Human Life, alongside of its big struttings and pretensions.
In Friedrich's utterances there is that kind of cynicism
undeniable;--and yet he had a modesty almost female in regard to
his own person; "no servant having ever seen him in an exposed
state." [Preuss, i. 376.] Which had considerably strengthened rumor
No. 2. O ye poor impious Long-eared,--Long-eared I will call you,
instead of Two-horned and with only One hoof cloven! Among the
tragical platitudes of Human Nature, nothing so fills a considering
brother mortal with sorrow and despair, as this innate tendency of
the common crowd in regard to its Great Men, whensoever, or almost
whensoever, the Heavens do, at long intervals, vouchsafe us, as
their all-including blessing, anything of such! Practical
"BLASPHEMY," is it not, if you reflect? Strangely possible that
sin, even now. And ought to be religiously abhorred by every soul
that has the least piety or nobleness. Act not the mutinous flunky,
my friend; though there be great wages going in that line.
4. That in these circumstances, and taking into view the
otherwise known qualities of this high Fellow-Creature, the present
Editor does not, for his own share, value the rumor at a pin's fee.
And leaves it, and recommends his readers to leave it, hanging by
its own head, in the sad subterranean regions,--till (probably not
for a long while yet) it drop to a far Deeper and dolefuler Region,
out of our way altogether.
"Lamentable, yes," comments Diogenes; "and especially so, that the
idle public has a hankering for such things! But are there no
obscene details at all, then? grumbles the disappointed idle public
to itself, something of reproach in its tone. A public idle-minded;
much depraved in every way. Thus, too, you will observe of dogs:
two dogs, at meeting, run, first of all, to the shameful parts of
the constitution; institute a strict examination, more or less
satisfactory, in that department. That once settled, their interest
in ulterior matters seems pretty much to die away, and they are
ready to part again, as from a problem done."--Enough, oh, enough!
Practically we are getting no good of our Demon;--and will dismiss
him, after a taste or two more.
This Demon Newswriter has, evidently, never been to Potsdam;
which he figures as the abode of horrid cruelty, a kind of Tartarus
on Earth;--where there is a dreadful scarcity of women, for one
item; lamentable to one's moral feelings. Scarcity nothing like so
great, even among the soldier-classes, as the Demon Newswriter
imagines to himself; nor productive of the results lamented.
Prussian soldiers are not encouraged to marry, if it will hurt the
service; nor do their wives march with the Regiment except in such
proportions as there may be sewing, washing and the like women's
work fairly wanted in their respective Companies: the Potsdam First
Battalion, I understand, is hardly permitted to marry at all.
And in regard to lamentable results, that of "LIEBSTEN-SCHEINE,
Sweetheart-TICKETS,"--or actual military legalizing of Temporary
Marriages, with regular privileges attached, and fixed rules to be
observed,--might perhaps be the notablest point, and the SEMI-
lamentablest, to a man or demon in the habit of lamenting.
[Preuss, i. 426.] For the rest, a considerably dreadful place this
Potsdam, to the flaccid, esurient and disorderly of mankind;--"and
strict as Fate [Demon correct for once] in inexorably punishing
military sins.
"This King," he says, "has a great deal of ESPRIT; much less of
real, knowledge (CONNAISSANCES) than is pretended. He excels only
in the military part; really excellent there. Has a facile
expeditious pen and head; understands what you say to him, at the
first word. Not taking nor wishing advice; never suffering replies
or remonstrances, not even from his Mother. Pretty well acquainted
with Works of ESPRIT, whether in Prose or in Verse: burning [very
hot indeed] to distinguish himself by performance of that kind;
but unable to reach the Beautiful, unless held up by somebody
(ETAYE). It is said that, in a splenetic moment, his Skeleton of an
Apollo [SQUELETTE D'APOLLON, M. de Voltaire, who is lean
exceedingly] exclaimed once, some time ago, 'When is it, then, that
he will have done sending me his dirty linen to wash?'
"The King is of a sharp mocking tongue withal; pricking into
whoever displeases him; often careless of policy in that.
Understands nothing of Finance, or still less of Trade;
always looking direct towards more money, which he loves much;
incapable of sowing [as some of US do!] for a distant harvest.
Treats, almost all the world as slaves. All his subjects are held
in hard shackles. Rigorous for the least shortcoming, where his
interest is hurt:--never pardons any fault which tends to
inexactitude in the Military Service. Spandau very full,"--though I
did not myself count. "Keeps in his pay nobody but those useful to
him, and capable of doing employments well [TRUE, ALWAYS]; and the
instant he has no more need of them, dismissing them with nothing
[FALSE, GENERALLY]. The Subsidies imposed on his subjects are
heavy; in constant proportion to their Feudal Properties, and their
Leases of Domains (CONTRATS ET BAUX); and, what is dreadful, are
exacted with the same rigor if your Property gets into debt,"--no
remission by the iron grip of this King in the name of the State!
Sell, if you can find a Purchaser; or get confiscated altogether;
that is your only remedy. Surely a tyrant of a King.
"People who get nearest him will tell you that his Politeness is
not natural, but a remnant of old habit, when he had need of
everybody, against the persecutions of his Father. He respects his
Mother; the only Female for whom he has a sort of attention.
He esteems his Wife, and cannot endure her; has been married
nineteen years, and has not yet addressed one word to her [how
true!]. It was but a few days ago she handed him a Letter,
petitioning some things of which she had the most pressing want.
He took the Letter, with that smiling, polite and gracious air
which he assumes at pleasure; and without breaking the seal, tore
the Letter up before her face, made her a profound bow, and turned
his back on her." Was there ever such a Pluto varnished into
Literary Rose-pink? Very proper Majesty for the Tartarus that
here is.
... "The Queen-Mother," continues our Small Devil, "is a good fat
woman, who lives and moves in her own way (RONDEMENT). She has
l6,000 pounds a year for keeping up her House. It is said she
hoards. Four days in the week she has Apartment [Royal Soiree];
to which you cannot go without express invitation. There is supper-
table of twenty-four covers; only eight dishes, served in a shabby
manner (INDECEMMENT) by six little scoundrels of Pages. Men and
women of the Country [shivering Natives, cheering their dull abode]
go and eat there. Steward Royal sends the invitations. At eleven,
everybody has withdrawn. Other days, this Queen eats by herself.
Stewardess Royal and three Maids of Honor have their separate
table; two dishes the whole. She is shabbily lodged [in my
opinion], when at the Palace. Her Monbijou, which is close to
Berlin [now well within it], would be pretty enough, for a
private person.
"The Queen Regnant is the best woman in the world. All the year
[NOT QUITE] she dines alone. Has Apartment on Thursdays;
everybody gone at nine o'clock. Her morsels are cut for her, her
steps are counted, and her words are dictated; she is miserable,
and does what she can to hide it"--according to our Small Devil.
"She has scarcely the necessaries of life allowed her,"--spends
regularly two-thirds of her income in charitable objects;
translates French-Calvinist Devotional Works, for benefit of the
German mind; and complains to no Small Devil, of never so
sympathizing nature. "At Court she is lodged on the second floor
[scandalous]. Schonhausen her Country House, with the exception of
the Garden which is pretty enough,--our Shopkeepers of the Rue St.
Honore would sniff at such a lodging.
"Princess Amelia is rather amiable [thank you for nothing, Small
Devil]; often out of temper because--this is so shocking a place
for Ladies, especially for maiden Ladies. Lives with her Mother;
special income very small;--Coadjutress of Quedlinburg; will be
actual Abbess" in a year or two. [11th April, 1756: Preuss, xxvii.
p. xxxiv (of PREFACE).]
"Eldest Prince, Heir-Apparent,"--do not speak of him, Small Devil,
for you are misinformed in every feature and particular:--enough,
"he is fac-simile of his Brother. He has only 18,000 pounds a year,
for self, Wife, Household and Children [two, both Boys];--and is
said [falsely] to hoard, and to follow Trade, extensive Trade with
his Brother's Woods.
"Prince Henri, who is just going to be married,"--thank you, Demon,
for reminding us of that. Bride is Wilhelmina, Princess of Hessen-
Cassel. Marriage, 25th June, 1752;--did not prove, in the end, very
happy. A small contemporary event; which would concern Voltaire and
others that concern us. Three months ago, April 14th, 1752, the
Berlin Powder-Magazine flew aloft with horrible crash; [In
Helden-Geschichte (iii. 531) the details.]--and would
be audible to Voltaire, in this his Second Act. Events, audible or
not, never cease.
"Prince Henri," in Demon's opinion, "is the amiablest of the House.
He is polite, generous, and loves good company. Has 12,000 pounds a
year left him by Papa." Not enough, as it proved. "If, on this
Marriage, his Brother, who detests him [witness Reinsberg and other
evidences, now and onward], gives him nothing, he won't be well
off. They are furnishing a House for him, where he will lodge after
wedding. Is reported to be--POTZDAMISTE [says the scandalous Small
Devil, whom we are weary of contradicting],--Potsdamite, in certain
respects. Poor Princess, what a destiny for you!
"Prince Ferdinand, little scraping of a creature (PETIT CHAFOUIN),
crapulous to excess, niggardly in the extreme, whom everybody
avoids,"--much more whose Portrait, by a Magic-lantern of this
kind: which let us hastily shut, and fling into the cellar!--
"Little Ferdinand, besides his 15,000 pounds a year, Papa's
bequest, gets considerable sums given him. Has lodging in the
King's House; goes shifting and visiting about, wherever he can
live gratis; and strives all he can to amass money. Has to be in
boots and uniform every three days. Three months of the year
practically with his regiment: but the shifts he has for avoiding
expense are astonishing." ...
What an illuminative "Idea" are the Walpole-Selwyn Circles picking
up for their money!--
Chapter XI.
THIRD ACT AND CATASTROPHE OF THE VOLTAIRE VISIT.
Meantime there has a fine Controversy risen, of mathematical,
philosophical and at length of very miscellaneous nature,
concerning that Konig-Maupertuis dissentience on the LAW OF THRIFT.
Wonderful Controversy, much occupying the so-called Philosophic or
Scientific world; especially the idler population that inhabit
there. Upon this item of the Infinitely Little,--which has in our
time sunk into Nothing-at-all, and but for Voltaire, and the
accident of his living near it, would be forgotten altogether,--we
must not enter into details; but a few words to render Voltaire's
share in it intelligible will be, in the highest degree, necessary.
Here, in brief form, rough and ready, are the successive stages of
the Business; the origin and first stage of which have been known
to us for some time past:--
"SEPTEMBER, 1750, Konig, his well-meant visit to Berlin proving so
futile, had left Maupertuis in the humor we saw;--pirouetting round
his Apartment, in tempests of rage at such contradiction of sinners
on his sublime Law of Thrift; and fulminating permission to Konig:
'No time to read your Paper of Contradictions; publish it in
Leipzig, in Jericho; anywhere in the Earth, in Heaven, in the Other
Place, where you have the opportunity!' Konig, returning on these
terms, had nothing for it but to publish his Paper; and did publish
it, in the Leipzig Acta Eruditorum for March,
1751. There it stands, legible to this day: and if any of the human
species should again think of reading it, I believe it will be
found a reasonable, solid and decisive Paper; of steadfast, openly
articulate, by no means insolent, tone; considerably modifying
Maupertuis's Law of Thrift, or Minimum of Action;--fatal to the
claim of its being a 'Sublime Discovery,' or indeed, so far as
TRUE, any discovery at all. [In Acta Eruditorum (Lipsiae, 1751): "De universali Principio
AEquilibrii et Motus." By no means uncivil to
Maupertuis; though obliged to controvert him. For example:
"Quoe itaque de Minima Actionis in modificationibus modum obtinente
in genere proferuntur vehementer laudo;" "continent nempe facundum
longeque pulcherrimum Dynamices sublimioris principium, cujus vim
in difficillimis quoestionibus soepe expertus fui." ]
By way of finis to the Paper, there is given, what proves extremely
important to us, an Excerpt from an old LETTER OF LEIBNITZ'S; which
perhaps it will be better to present here IN CORPORE, as so much
turned on it afterwards. Konig thus winds up:--
"I add only a word, in finishing; and that is, that it appears
Mr. Leibnitz had a theory of Action, perhaps much more extensive
than one would suspect at present. There is a Letter written by him
to Mr. Hermann [an ancient mathematical sage at Basel], where he
uses these expressions: 'Action, is not what you think;
the consideration of Time enters into it; Action is as the product
of the mass by the space and the velocity, or as the time by the
VIS VIVA. I have remarked that in the modifications of motion, the
action becomes usually a maximum or a minimum:--and from this there
might several propositions of great consequence be deduced.
It might serve to determine the curves described by bodies under
attraction to one or more centres. I had meant to treat of these
things in the Second Part of my DYNAMIQUE; which I suppressed, the
reception of the First, by prejudice in many quarters, having
disgusted me.'" [MAUPERTUISIANA, No. ii. 22 (from Acta
Eruditorum, ubi supra). In MAUPERTUISIANA, No. iv.
166, is the whole Letter, "Hanover, 16th October, 1707;" no ADDRESS
left, judged to be to Hermann. MAUPERTUISIANA (Hamburg, 1753) is a
mere Bookseller's or even Bookbinder's Farrago, with printed TITLE-
PAGE and LIST, of the chief Pamphlets which had appeared on this
Business (sixteen by count, various type, all 8vo size, in my
copy). Of which only No. ii. (Konig's APPEL AU PUBLIC) and No. iv.
(2d edition of said APPEL, with APPENDIX OF CORRESPONDENCE) are
illuminative to read.] Your Minimum of Action, it would appear,
then, is in some cases a Maximum; nothing can be said but that, in
every case it is EITHER a Maximum or Minimum. What a stroke for our
LAW OF THRIFT, the "at last conclusive Proof" of an Intelligent
Creator, as the Perpetual President had fancied it! "So-ho, what is
this! My Discovery an Error? And Leibnitz discovered it, so far
as true?"--
"May 28th-8th OCTOBER, 1751. Maupertuis, compressing himself what
he can, writes to Konig: 'Very good, Monsieur. But please inform me
where is that Letter of Leibnitz's; I have never seen or heard of
it before,--and I want to make use of it myself.' To which Konig
answers: 'Henzi gave it me, in Copy [unfortunate Conspirator Henzi,
who lost his head three years ago, by sentence of the Oligarch
Government at Berne]: [Government by "The Two Hundred;" of Select-
Vestry nature, very stiff, arbitrary and become rife in abuses;
against whom had risen angry mutterings more than once, and in 1749
a Select Plot (not select ENOUGH, for they discovered it in time).
Poor Ex-Captain Henzi, "Clerk *of the Salt-Office," most frugal,
studious and quiet of men; a very miracle, It would appear, of
genius, solid learning, philosophy and piety,--not the chief or
first of the conspirators, but by far the most distinguished,--was
laid hold of, July 2d, 1749, and beheaded, with another of them, a
day or two after. Much bewailed in a private way, even by the
better kinds of people. (Copious account of him in
Adelung, vii. 86-91.)]--he, poor fellow, had no end of
Papers and Excerpts; had, as we know, above a hundred volumes of
the latter kind; this, and some other Letters of Leibnitz's, among
them,--I send you the whole Letter, copied faithfully from his
Copy.' ["The Hague, 26th June," in Maupertuisiana, No. iv. 130.] To that effect, still in perfect good-humor,
was Konig's reply to his Maupertuis.
"'Hm, Copy? By Henzi?' grumbles Maupertuis to himself:--'Search in
Berne, then; it must be there, if anywhere!' To Konig Maupertuis
answers nothing: but sulkily resolves on having Search made;--and,
to give solemnity to the matter, requests his Excellency Marquis de
Paulmy, the French Ambassador at Berne, to ask the Government
there,--Government having seized all Henzi's Papers, on beheading
him. Excellency Paulmy does, accordingly, make inquiry in the
highest quarter; some inquiries up and down. Not the least account
of this, or of any Leibnitz Letter, to be had from among Henzi's
Papers,--the 'hundred volumes,' seemingly, exist no longer;--
Original of this Leibnitz Piece is nowhere. For eight months the
highest Authorities have been looking about (with one knows not
what vivacity or skill in searching), and have found nothing
whatever." Stage second of the Business finishes in this manner.
How lucky for the Perpetual President, had he stopped here!
To Konig and the common contradiction of sinners he could have
opposed, as it was apparently his purpose to do, an Olympian
silence, "Pshaw!" Whereby the small matter, interesting to few,
would have dropped gently into dubiety, into oblivion, and been got
well rid of. But this of the great Leibnitz, touching on one's LAW
OF THRIFT; and not only "discovering" it, half a century
beforehand, but discovering that it was not true: to Leibnitz one
must speak;--and the abstruse question is, What is one to say?
"Find me the original; let us be certain, first:" that you can say;
that is one dear point; and pretty much the only one. The rest, at
this time, as I conjecture, may have been not a little abstruse to
the Perpetual President!
And now, had the Perpetual President but stopped here, there might
still have rested a saving shadow of suspicion on Konig's Excerpt,
That it was not exact, that it might be wrong in some vital point:
--"You never showed me the Original, Monsieur!" Unluckily, the
Perpetual President did not stop. One cannot well fancy him
believing, now or ever, that Konig had forged the Excerpt.
Most likely he had the fatal persuasion that these were Leibnitz's
words; and the question, What was to be said or done, if the
Original SHOULD turn up? might justly be alarming to a Son of the
Pure Sciences. But at this point a new door of escape disclosed
itself: "Where is the Original, I say!"--and he rushed, full speed,
into that; galloping triumphantly, feeling all safe.
"OCTOBER 7th (1751), Maupertuis summons his Academy: 'Messieurs,
permit me to submit a case perhaps requiring your attention. One of
our number dissents from your President's Discovery of the Law of
Thrift; which surely he is free to do: but furthermore he gives an
Excerpt purporting to be from Leibnitz; whereby it would appear
that your President's Discovery, sanctioned in your Acts as new, is
not new, but Leibnitz's (so far as it is good for anything),--
possibly stolen, therefore; and, at any rate, fifty-four years old.
In self-defence, I have demanded to see the Original of said
Excerpt; and the Honorable Member in question does not produce it.
What say you?' 'Shame to him!' say they all [there seem to be but
few Scientific Members, and most of them, it is insinuated, have
Pensions from the King through their Perpetual President];--and
determine to make a Star-chamber matter of it!
"Accordingly, next day, OCTOBER 8th) Secretary Formey writes
officially to Konig, 'Produce that Letter within one month,'--and
has got his Majesty to order, That our Prussian Minister at the
Hague shall take charge of delivering such message, and shall mark
on what day. Thing serious, you see!--Prussian Minister at the
Hague delivers, and dockets accordingly. To Konig's astonishment;
who is in a scene of deep trouble at this time; Royal Highness the
Stadtholder suddenly dead, or dying: 'died October 22d; leaving a
very young Heir, and a very sorrowful Widow and Country.' Much to
think of, that lies apart from the Maupertuis matter! Which latter,
however, is so very serious too, his Prussian Majesty's Minister at
Berne is now charged to make new perquisition for the Leibnitz
Original there: In short, within one month that Document is
peremptorily wanted at Berlin."
High proceedings these;--and calculated to have one result, if no
other. Namely, that, at this point, as readers can fancy, the idler
Public, seeing a street-quarrel in progress, began to take interest
in the Question of MINIMUM; and quasi-scientific gentlemen to
gather round, and express, with cheery capable look, their
opinions,--still legible in the vanished JUGEMENS LIBRES (of
Hamburg), GAZETTE DE SAVANS (Leipzig), and other poor Shadows of
JOURNALS, if you daringly evoke them from the other side of Styx.
Which, the whole matter being now so indisputably extinct, shadowy,
Stygian, we will not here be guilty of doing; but hasten to the
catastrophes, that have still a memorability.
"Konig, having in fact nothing more to say about the Leibnitz
Excerpt, was in no breathless haste to obey his summons; he sat
almost two months before answering anything. Did then write
however, in a friendly strain to Maupertuis (December 10th, 1751).
[ Maupertuisiana, No. iv. 132.] Almost on
which same day, as it chanced, the ACADEMIE, after two months'
dignified waiting, had in brief terms repeated its order on Konig.
[December 11th, 1751 (Ib. 137). To which Konig makes no special
answer (having as good as answered the day before);--but does
silently send off to Switzerland to make inquiries; and does write
once or twice more, when there is occasion for explaining;--always
in a clear, sonorous, manfully firm and respectful tone: 'That he
himself had, or has, no kind of reason to doubt the authenticity of
the Leibnitz Letter; that to himself (and, so far as he can judge,
to Maupertuis) the question of its authenticity is without special
interest;--he, Konig, having thrown it in as a mere marginal
illustration, which decides nothing, either for or against the Law
of Thrift. That he has, in obedience to the Academy, caused search
to be made in Switzerland, especially at Basel, where he judged the
chance might lie; but that of this particular Letter nothing has
come to light; that he has two other Leibnitz Letters, of
indifferent tenor, in the late Henzi's hand, if these will serve in
aught, [ Maupertuisiana, No. iv. 155; and ib.
172-192, the two Letters themselves.]--but what farther can he do?'
In short, Konig speaks always in a clear business-like manful tone;
the one person that makes a really respectful and respectable
figure in this Controversy of the Infinitely Little. A man whom,
viewed from this quiet distance, it seems almost inconceivably
absurd to have suspected of forging for so small an object. Oh, my
President, that DIRA REGNANDI CUPIDO!--
"Question is, however, What the Academy will do? One Member, 'the
best Geometer among them' [whose name is not given, but which the
Berlin Academy should write in big letters across this sad Page of
their Annals, by way of erasure to the same], dissented from the
high line of procedure; asserting Konig's innocence in this matter;
nay, hinting agreement with Konig's opinion. But was met by such a
storm, that he withdrew from the deliberations; which henceforth
went their own bad course, unanimous though slow. And so the matter
pendulates all through Winter, 1751-52, and was much the theme of
idle men."
Voltaire heard of it vaguely all along; but not with distinctness
till the end of July following. As Spring advanced, Maupertuis had
fallen ill of lungs,--threatened with spitting of blood ("owing to
excess of brandy," hints the malicious Voltaire, "which is
fashionable at St. Malo," birthplace of Maupertuis),--and could not
farther direct the Academy in this affair. The Academy needs no
direction farther. Here, very soon, for a sick President's
consolation, is what the Academy decides on, by way
of catastrophe:--
THURSDAY EVENING, 13th APRIL, 1752, The Academy met; Curator
Monsieur de Keith, presiding; about a score of acting Members
present. To whom Curator de Keith, as the first thing, reads a
magnanimous brief Letter from our Perpetual President: "That, for
two reasons, he cannot attend on this important occasion:
First, because he is too ill, which would itself be conclusive;
but secondly, and A FORTIORI, because he is in some sense a party
to the cause, and ought not if he could." Whereupon, Secretary
Formey having done his Documentary flourishings, Curator Euler--
(great in Algebra, apparently not very great in common sense and
the rules of good temper)--reads considerable "Report;" [Is No. 1
of Maupertuisiana. ] reciting, not in a
dishonest, but in a dim wearisome way, the various steps of the
Affair, as readers already know them; and concludes with this
extraordinary practical result: "Things being so (LES CHOSES ETANT
TELLES): the Fragment being of itself suspect [what could Leibnitz
know of Maxima and Minima? They were not developed till one Euler
did it, quite in late years!], [