Joseph II. and His Court Part 148

'Malheureux, laisse en paix ton cheval vicillissant De peur quo tout a coup essoufle, sans haleine, Il ne laisse en tombant, son maitre sur l'arbne.' [Footnote: Frederick's own words.]

"Why did I undertake this war? Why had I not discretion enough to remain at home, and secure the happiness of my own people?"

The king sighed, and his head sank upon his breast. He sat thus for some time in deep discouragement; but presently he repeated to himself:

"Why did I undertake this war--why?" echoed he aloud. "For the honor and safety of Germany. How sorely soever war may press upon my age and infirmities, it is my duty to check the ambition of a house whose greed has no bounds, save those which are made for it by the resistance of another power as resolute as itself. I am, therefore, the champion of German liberties, and cannot, must not sheathe my sword. But this inactivity is demoralizing my army, and it must come to an end. We must retreat or advance--then let us advance!"

Here the king rang his bell. A valet entered, whom he ordered to go at once to the generals and staff-officers and bid them a.s.semble at headquarters in fifteen minutes from that time.

"Gentlemen," said the king, "we cross the Elbe to-morrow."

At these words every countenance there grew bright, and every voice was raised in one long shout:

"Long live the king! Long live Frederick the Great!"

The king tried his best to look unmoved.

"Peace! peace! you silly, old fellows," said he. "What do you suppose the boys will do out there, if you raise such a clamor indoors? Do you approve of the move? Speak, General Keller."

"Sire, while out on a reconnaissance yesterday, I discovered a crossing where we may go safely over, without danger from the enemy's bullets."

"Good. Are you all of one mind?"

A long shout was the answer, and when it had subsided, the king smiled grimly and nodded his head.

"We are all of one mind, then. To-morrow we engage the enemy. And now to horse! We must reconnoitre the position which General Keller has chosen, and part of our troops must cross to-night."

CHAPTER Cx.x.xI,

"THE DARKEST HOUR IS BEFORE DAY."

A few moments later the officers were mounted, and the king's horse stood before his door. Frederick, coming forward, with something of his youthful elasticity, tried to raise himself in the saddle; but he stopped, and with an expression of great suffering withdrew his foot from the stirrup.

The old hero had forgotten that the gout was holding him prisoner. His face flushed with disappointment, as he called his lackeys to his help.

But once in the saddle, the king struck his spurs with such violence into his horse's flanks, that the animal leaped into the air, and bounded off in a swift gallop.

Whether Frederick had intended to prove to his officers that he was as bold a horseman as ever, or whether be had yielded to a momentary impulse of anger, he suffered keenly for his bravado; for at every bound of the horse, his agony increased. Finally he could endure no more. He came to a complete stand, and requested his suite to slacken their pace.

They rode on in perfect silence, the officers casting stolen glances at the king, whose lips quivered, while his face grew every moment paler with suppressed anguish. But he bore it all without a sigh, until they had reached the point for which they started. Having accurately surveyed it, Frederick turned his horse's head, and rode back to his quarters.

This time he had not only to be lifted from his horse, but to be carried to his room. Once there, he signed to his attendants to leave him. He felt the imperious necessity of being alone with his afflicted mind and body. He leaned his head back, and murmured

"Malheureux, laisse en paux ton cheval vieillissant!"

Then, closing his eyes, he quoted the sacred Scriptures for the first time in his life without irreverent intention.

"The spirit is willing," sighed the wretched unbeliever, "but the flesh is weak."

He remained pondering over those truthful words for several moments; then casting his eyes over the various objects that lay upon his table, they lit upon the little leather-covered box, which contained his flute.

For some time past his perplexities had been so great that he had held no intercourse with this object of his life-long affection; but now he felt as if its tones would be consolatory. And with trembling, eager hands he unfastened the case, and raised the instrument to his lips. But alas! the flute, like its adorer, was superannuated. Wearily came its feeble notes upon the air, each one hoa.r.s.e as the wind whistling through a ruined abbey. [Footnote: It was during the war of the Bavarian Succession that Frederick found himself compelled to give up the flute.

His embouchure had been destroyed by the loss of his front teeth, and his hands trembled so that he could scarcely hold the instrument.]

Frederick had played but a few bars of his adagio when his hands fell slowly, and the flute rolled upon the table. He contemplated it for awhile, then his eyes filled with tears, which fell rapidly down his cheeks. A mournful smile flickered over his countenance.

"Well," said he, in a low voice, "I suppose there is nothing disgraceful in the tears of an old man over the last, faithful friend of his youth."

With these words he replaced the flute in the case, and locked it, murmuring:

"Farewell, forever, my life-long solace!"

Just then, a thousand voices shouted:

"Long live the king! Long live old Fritz!"

"They are rejoicing over the approaching battle," thought Frederick.

"But their hopes, like mine, are destined to be crushed. Instead of crossing the Elbe, we must retire to Silesia. Old age has vanquished me--and from such a defeat no man can ever rally.

"Well, well! We must take the world as it comes, and if I can neither light nor play on the flute, I can still talk and write. My eulogy on Voltaire is not yet completed--I must finish it to-day, that it may be read before the Academy at Berlin, on the anniversary of his death."

[Footnote: Voltaire died in May, 1779 and Frederick, while in camp in Bohemia, wrote a poem on his death.]

Selecting from among his papers the ma.n.u.script he wanted, Frederick took up his pen and began to write.

Gradually the songs and shouts of the soldiers ceased, and the king was consoling himself for the loss of music by flinging himself into the arms of poetry, when a knock was heard at his door, and his valet announced the secretary of Count Gallitzin.

Frederick's heart throbbed with joy, and his great eagle eyes were so strangely lit up, that the valet could not imagine what had caused such an illumination of his royal master's features.

"Thugut," cried the king; "is Thugut here again? Admit him immediately."

By the time that Baron Thugut had appeared at the door, Frederick had so forced down his joy, that he received the envoy of the empress-queen with creditable indifference.

"Well, baron," said he, with a careless nod, "you come again. When the foul fiend comes for the third time, he must either bag a man's soul, or give it up forever."

"I feel flattered, sire, by the comparison your majesty makes of me to so great and powerful a potentate," replied the baron, laughing.

"You believe in the devil, then, although you deny the Lord."

"Certainly, sire, for I have never yet seen a trace of the one, and the other I meet everywhere."

"For an amba.s.sador of Maria Theresa, your opinions are tolerably heterodox," said Frederick. "But tell me what brings you hither? You must not expect me to continue our interrupted negotiations. If the empress-queen sends you to claim ever so small a portion of Bavaria, I tell you, beforehand, that it is useless to say a word. Austria must renounce her pretensions or continue the war."

"Sire, I come with new propositions. Here are my credentials, if your majesty is at leisure to examine them, and here is a letter from the hand of my revered sovereign."

"And what is that?" asked Frederick, pointing to a roll of papers, tied up with twine.

"Those are my doc.u.ments, together with the papers relating to the past negotiations."

"I think that I have already refused to go over these negotiations,"