ther can only
snort indignantly futile. A case growing nearly desperate. Desperate,
yes, on all hands: unless one had the "high mast" above alluded to, with
two pulleys and ropes; and could see a certain Pair of Scoundrels mount
rapidly thither, what hope is there for anybody? A violent crisis does
not last, however; that is one certainty in it. Either these agonistic
human beings, young and old, will all die, all go to Bedlam, with their
intolerable woes; or else something of explosive nature will take place
among them. The maddest boil, unless it kill you with its torments, does
at length burst, and become an abscess.
Of course Captain Dickens, the instant Hotham was gone, hastened privily
to see the Crown-Prince; saw Katte and him "at the Gate of the Potsdam
Palace at midnight," [Wilhelmina; Ranke, i. 301.] or in some other less
romantic way;--read him the Windsor Paper of "INSTRUCTIONS" known to us;
and preached from that text. No definite countenance from England, the
reverse rather, your Highness sees;--how can there be? Give it up, your
Highness; at least delay it!--Crown-Prince does not give it up a whit;
whether he delays it, we shall see.
A busy week for the Crown-Prince and Katte, this of the Hotham
Catastrophe; who have many consultations, the Journey to Anspach being
on Saturday next! Crown-Prince has given him in keeping a writing-case
with private letters; 1,000 ducats of money, money raised by loan, by
picking jewels off some miniatures of honor, and the like sore methods.
Katte has his very coat, a gray top-coat or travelling roquelaure, in
keeping;--and their schemes are many. Off we must and will be, by some
opportunity. Could not Katte get a "Recruiting Furlough," leave to go
into the REICH on that score; and join one there? Lieutenant Keith is at
Wesel; ready, always ready. Into France, into Holland, England? If the
English would not,--there is war to be in Italy, say all the Newspapers:
why not a campaign as Volunteers in Italy, till we saw how matters went?
Anything and all things are preferable to ignominy like this. No dog
could, endure it!
Chapter V. -- JOURNEY TO THE REICH.
On Saturday the 15th July, 1730, early in the morning as his wont was,
Friedrich Wilhelm, with a small train of official military persons,
rolled off from Potsdam, towards Leipzig, on that same journey of
his, towards Anspach and the Reich. To Anspach, to see our poor young
daughter, lately married there; ther
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