and Julich, then in some other quarter of the
Universe, which is a wide Entity and a long-lived! Courage, your
Majesty!
So stand matters as Friedrich Wilhelm journeys towards Mannheim: human
politeness will have to cloak well, and keep well down, a good many
prickly points in the visit ahead. Alas, poor Friedrich Wilhelm has got
other matter to think of, by the time we arrive in Mannheim.
CATASTROPHE ON JOURNEY HOMEWARDS.
The Royal Party, quitting Ludwigsburg,--on Thursday, 3d August, 1730,
some hours after dinner, as I calculate it,--had but a rather short
journey before them: journey to a place called Sinzheim, some fifty or
sixty miles; a long way short of Heidelberg; the King's purpose being
to lodge in that dilapidated silent Town of Sinzheim, and leave both
Heidelberg and Mannheim, with their civic noises, for the next
day's work. Sinzheim, such was the program, as the Prince and others
understood it; but by some accident, or on better calculation, it was
otherwise decided in the royal mind: not at Sinzheim, intricate decayed
old Town, shall we lodge to-night, but five or six miles short of it, in
the naturally silent Village of Steinfurth, where good clean empty Barns
are to be found. Which latter is a favorite method of his Majesty, fond
always of free air and the absence of fuss. Shake-downs, a temporary
cooking apparatus, plenty of tobacco, and a tub to wash in: this is
what man requires, and this without difficulty can be got. His Majesty's
tastes are simple; simple, and yet good and human. Here is a small Royal
Order, which I read once, and ever since remember,--though the reference
is now blown away, and lost in those unindexed Sibylline Farragos, the
terror of human nature;--let us copy it from memory, till some deliverer
arise with finger on page. [Probably in Rodenbeck's _Beitrage,_--but
long sad searching there, and elsewhere, proves unavailing at present.
Historical Farragos without INDEX; a hundred, or several hundred, blind
sacks of Historical clippings, generally authentic too if useless, and
not the least scrap of LABEL on them:--are not these a handy article!]
"At Magdeburg, on this Review-Journey, have dinner for me, under a
certain Tree you know of, outside the ramparts." Dinner of one
sound portion solid, one ditto liquid, of the due quality; readied
honestly,--and to be eaten under a shady Tree; on the Review-ground
itself, with the summer sky over one's head. Could Jupiter Tonans,
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