gusted with the slavish Forty and
their methods of Election (of which by and by); and little thinking of
M. le Brigadier and the dangers of war.--Prince de Conti praised the
Brigadier's defence: but very soon, alas,--

DEGGENDORF, 27th MAY. "Prince de Conti, at Deggendorf [other or north
bank of the Donau, Head-quarters of Conti, which was thought to be well
secured by batteries and defences on the steep heights to landward], was
himself suddenly attacked, the tenth day hence, 'May 27th, at daybreak,'
in a still more furious manner; and was tumbled out of Deggendorf amid
whirlwinds of fire, in very flamy condition indeed. The Austrians,
playing on us from the uplands with their heavy artillery, made a breach
in our outmost battery: 'Not tenable!' exclaimed the Captain there:
'This way, my men!'--and withdrew, like a shot, he and party; sliding
down the steep face of the mountain [feet foremost, I hope], home to
Deggendorf in this peculiar manner; leaving the AUSTRIANS to manage his
guns. Our two lower batteries, ruled by this upper one, had now to be
abandoned; and Conti ran, Bridge of the Town-ditch breaking under
him; baggages, even to his own portmanteaus, all lost; and had a
neck-and-neck race of it in getting to his Donau-Bridge, and across to
the safe side. With loss of everything, we say,--personal baggage all
included; which latter item, Prince Karl politely returned him next
day." [Espagnac, p. 188.]

Broglio, with Prince Karl in his bowels going at such a rate, may judge
now whether it was wise to lie in that loose posture, scattered over two
thousand square miles, and snort on his judicious Seckendorf's advices
and urgencies as he did! Readers anticipate the issue; and shall not
be wearied farther with detail. There are, as we said, Three Austrian
Armies pressing on this luckless Bavaria and its French Protectors:
Khevenhuller, from Salzburg and the southern quarter, pushing in his
Dauns; Lobkowitz, hanging over us from the Ober-Pfalz (Naab-River
Country) on the north; and Prince Karl, on one or sometimes on both
sides of the Donau, pricking sharply into the rear of us; saying, by
bayonets, burnt bridges, bomb-shells, "Off; swift; it will be better for
you!" And Broglio has lost head, a mere whirlwind of flaming gases;
and your ablest Comte de Saxe in such position, what can he do? Broglio
writes to Versailles, That there will be no continuing in Bavaria; that
he recommends an order to march homewards;--much