ed by the death of the
Margravino of Baireuth, who had explicitly willed her part to her
brother Frederick. [Footnote: When the court fled, after the battle of
Kunendorf, to Magdeburg, they took the golden service which the king
inherited from his mother with them; that portion given to Frederick by
the margravino was left in Berlin, and the next year, 1760, was seized
by the Russians and carried to Petersburg--"Geschichte Berlins," vol.
v., p. 2.]

The queen and the princesses were to appear in all the splendor of their
jewels, and by their costly and exquisite toilets impose upon these
proud and haughty officers, whom fate had sent as prisoners of war to
Berlin, and who would not fail to inform their respective governments of
all they saw in the capital.

This fete was a demonstration made by the king to his over-confident
enemies. He would prove to them that if he wished for peace it was not
because the gold failed to carry on the war, but because he wished
to give rest and the opportunity to recover to Europe, groaning and
bleeding from a thousand wounds. Besides this, the king wished to show
his subjects, by the celebration of his brother's birthday, how highly
he honored the prince--how gladly he embraced the opportunity to
distinguish the young general who, during the whole war, had not lost a
single battle; but, by his bold and masterly movements, had come to the
king's help in the most difficult and dangerous moments.

This celebration should be a refutation of the rumors spread abroad by
the king's enemies, that Frederick regarded the success and military
talent of his brother with jealous envy.

There were, therefore, many reasons why Pollnitz should make this a
luxurious and dazzling feast; he knew also that Prince Henry would
receive a detailed account of the celebration from his adjutant, Count
Kalkreuth, who had lingered some months in Berlin because of his wounds,
was now fully restored, and would leave Berlin the morning after the
ball to return to the army.

And now the important hour had arrived. Pollnitz wandered through the
saloons with the searching glance of a warrior on the field of battle;
he pronounced that all was good.

The saloons were dazzling with light; pomp and splendor reigned
throughout, and on entering the supper-room you were almost blinded
by the array of gold and silver adorning the costly buffet, on whose
glittering surface the lights were a thousand times reflected.

Sud