Pictures of German Life in the XVIIIth and XIXth Centuries, Vol. II.

by Gustav Freytag

CHAPTER VII.

AWAY FROM THE GARRISON.

(1700.)

A shot from the alarm-gun! Timidly does the citizen examine the dark corners of his house to discover whether any strange man be hid there. The peasant in the field stops his horses to consider whether he would wish to meet with any fugitive, and earn capture-money, or whether he should save some desperate man, in spite of the severe punishment with which every one was threatened who enabled a deserter to escape. Probably he will let the fugitive run away, though in his power, for in his secret soul he has a fellow feeling for him, nay, even admires his daring.

There is scarcely any sphere of earthly interest which stamps so sharply the peculiarities of the culture of the time, as the army and the method of carrying on war. In every century the army corresponds exactly with the constitution and character of the state. The Franconian landwehr of Charles the Great, who advanced on foot from their Maifeld to Saxony, the army of the noble cuirassiers who rode under the Emperor Barbarossa into the plains of Lombardy, the Swiss and Landsknechte of the time of the Reformation, and the mercenary armies of the Thirty Years' War, were all highly characteristic of the culture of their time; they sprang from the social condition of the people, and changed with it. Thus did the oldest infantry of the proprietors take root in the old provincial constitution, the mounted chivalry in the old feudalism, the troops of Landsknechte in the rise of civic power, and the companies of roving mercenaries in the increase of royal territorial dominion; these were succeeded in despotic states, in the eighteenth century, by the standing army with uniform and pay.

But none of the older forms of military service were entirely displaced by those of later times, at least some reminiscences of them are everywhere kept. The ancient landfolge (attendants on military expeditions) of the free landowner had ceased since the greater portion of the powerful peasantry had sunk into bondsmen, and the strong landwehr had become a general levy, of little warlike capacity; but they had not been entirely set aside, for still in the eighteenth century all freeholders were bound at the sound of the alarum to hasten together, and to furnish baggage, horses, and men to work at the fortifications. In the same way the knights of the Hohenstaufen were dispersed by the army of free peasants and citizens, at Sempach, Grunson, Murten, and the lowlands of Ditmarsch, but the furnishing of cavalry horses remained as a burden upon the properties of the nobility; it was after the end of the sixteenth century—in Prussia, first under Frederic William I.—that it was changed into a low money-tax, and this tax was the only impost on the feudal property of nobles.[^[1]] The roving Landsknecht also, who provided his own equipments and changed his banner every summer, was turned into a mounted mercenary with an unsettled term of service; but in the new time the customs of free enlistment, earnest money, and entering into foreign service, were still maintained, although these customs of the Landsknecht time were in strange and irreconcilable contrast to the fearful severity with which the new rule of a despotic state grasped the whole life of the recruit.

The defects of the standing army in the eighteenth century have been often criticised, and every one knows something of the rigorous discipline in the companies with which the Dessauer stormed the defences of Turin, and Frederic II. maintained possession of Silesia. But another part of the old military constitution is not equally known, and has been entirely lost sight of even by military writers. It shall therefore be introduced here.

The regiments which the sovereigns of the eighteenth century led to battle, or leased to foreign potentates, were not the only armed organisation of Germany. Besides the paid army there was in most of the states a militia force, certainly very deficient in constitution, but by no means insignificant or uninfluential. At no time had the old idea, that every one was bound to defend his own country, vanished from the German life. The right of the rulers to employ their subjects in the defence of their homes, was, according to the notions of the olden time, entirely distinct from their other right of keeping soldiers. They could not command their subjects to render military service for their political struggles, nor for wars beyond the frontiers. Service in war was a free work, for that, they were obliged to invite volunteers, that is to say, to enlist, as they were unable to avail themselves of their vassals. One of the greatest changes in the history of the German nation was owing to the conviction being gradually impressed upon the people, by the despotic governments in the former century, that they were bound to furnish their rulers with at least a portion of their soldiers. And it is not less instructive to find, that in our century, after the old system was destroyed, the general idea of defensive duty was imbibed by the people. It is worth while to investigate the way in which this happened.

Already, towards the end of the sixteenth century, when the Landsknechte had become too costly and demoralised, people began to think of forming a militia of the men capable of bearing arms in the cities and open country, which were to be employed for its protection within its frontiers. After 1613, this militia was organised in Electoral Saxony and the neighbouring countries, and soon after in the other circles of the Empire, and companies established, which were sometimes assembled and exercised in military drill. Their collective number was fixed and distributed among the districts, the communities appointed and armed the men, and if they were in service they received pay from the ruler.

The Thirty Years' War was for the most part carried on by enlisted soldiers, yet in case of need the militia were here and there turned into regulars; either whole regiments were appointed for field service, or the gaps in the enlisted troops were filled up by serviceable men. But on the whole the loose organisation of this militia did not answer. After the peace it was still less possible in the depopulated state of the country, to form from it a new military constitution. For the citizen and peasant, as taxpayers, as well as for the cultivation of the now waste ground, were indispensable. The old imperfect constitution of this civic army was, therefore, maintained. The only difference made in the militia at this period was that the men were chosen by the officers of the Sovereign and that the term of service was limited for the young men; the community fell into the back-ground, and the Sovereign became more powerful. In this manner were the militia brought together in companies and regiments, according to their circles, and exercised once or twice a year. Before the war the districts had provided them with weapons and equipments; now this also was done by the Sovereign; but in the cities the officers were appointed by the citizens; only the commanding officer was selected by the General The men were usually chosen by lot, and it is an interesting circumstance that, as early as 1711, the inscription on the Saxon ticket was "For Fatherland." But the military education was imperfect, exemptions were frequent, and the mode of filling up the vacancies inadequate.

And yet this militia more than once did good service; for instance, in Prussia. The armed country people, as they were called in the description of the battle of Fehrbelliner, were not a mere crowd that had flocked together, but the old organised country militia; they took an essential share in the first glorious deed of arms, in which the Brandenburgers beat a superior enemy by their own unaided efforts. In 1704, these militia were still much esteemed in Prussia, and those who were enrolled in it were exempt from all other military service.[^[2]] It is true this was cancelled by Frederic William I., but in the Seven Years' War again established, and this militia did then good service against Sweden and Russia. In the Empire, also, and in Saxony, they were maintained, though weak, unwarlike and despised, till an altered state of civilisation made a new organisation of the national militia possible. Even now is this new constitution not fully completed.

Entirely distinct from these militia were the soldiery, which the Sovereign maintained himself, and paid out of his revenue. It might be only a body of guards, for the protection and adornment of his court, or it might be many companies whom he levied in order to secure his own state, and by gaining influence and power among his equals, to obtain money. It was his own private affair, and if he did not overburden his people by it, no objection could be made. Those who served him also, did it of their own free will; they might engage themselves to other Sovereigns at home or abroad, who were obliged to keep the agreements they made with them. If the country were in danger from external enemies, the states granted the Sovereign money or a special contribution for these soldiers, for it was well known that they had more military capacity than the militia. Thus it was in Prussia under the great Elector, and so it remained in the greater part of Germany till late in the eighteenth century.

But this private army which the Sovereign had levied for himself had also acquired a new constitution.

Till the end of the Thirty Years' War the enlistment, in most of the German armies, had taken place according to Landsknecht custom, at the risk of the Colonels. The Colonel concluded a contract with the Prince; he filled and sold the captains' commissions; the Prince paid the Colonel the money contributed by the district. Thus the regiments were essentially dependent on the Colonel, and this was a power which might be used against the Prince. The discipline was loose; the officers' places occupied by creatures of the Colonel, and at his death the regiment was dissolved. The rogueries of Colonels and leaders of companies, which were already complained of in 1600 by the military writers, had attained a certain virtuosoship in their development. Seldom were all the men whose names stood on the rolls, really under the banner. The officers drew the pay for numbers who were not there, who were called "Passevolants," or "Blinde," and they appointed their grooms and sutlers, from the baggage-waggons, to be non-commissioned officers. In the Imperial army, also, complaints were endless of the most reckless selfishness from the highest to the lowest. In the midst of peace the officers plundered the hereditary States in which they were quartered; they fished and hunted in the environs, and claimed a portion of the city tolls; they caused beasts to be killed and sold; and set up wine and beer taverns. In like manner as the officers robbed, the soldiers stole. This continued still in 1677; and this plague of the country threatened to become lasting. The enlisting of recruits was still little organised in this early period; and the rogueries, which could not fail to accompany it, were at least unsanctioned by the highest authorities.

In Brandenburg the great Elector, immediately after his entrance on the government, reformed the connection between the regiments and the Sovereign; the enlistment was from thenceforth in his own name; he appointed the Colonel and the officers, who could no longer buy their commissions. Then first did the paid troops become a standing army, clothed, armed, and equipped alike, with better discipline, obedient instruments in the hands of the princes. This was the greatest advance in the military system since the invention of fire-arms; and Prussia owes to the early and energetic introduction of this new system its military preponderance in Germany. The commissariat, also, was reorganised; the men received, at least in war, their daily food in rations, and the provisions were supplied from great magazines. Through the efforts of Montecuculi, and later of Prince Eugene, Austria also, shortly before 1700, acquired a better disciplined standing army.

The whole complement of these troops could, up to 1700, be procured almost exclusively by free enlisting; for long after the great war the people continued in a state of restlessness, and had imbibed an adventurous spirit, to which military work was very enticing. This altered gradually. During the war-like period of Louis XIV., and from the increase of the French army, the German princes were compelled to a greater increase of their paid armies, and the loss of men occasioned by the incessant war had carried off many of the useless and bold rabble that collected round the banners. Even before the great war of succession the deficiency of men began to be felt; voluntary enlistment could nowhere any longer be obtained; complaints of the deeds of violence of the recruiting officers became at last troublesome. The military ruler, at last, began to scrutinize the men who seized under him, and sometimes had them exercised in companies. To use the militia for his warlike expeditions was impossible; they were too little trained, and, what was more important, they consisted more especially of respectable residents, whose labour and taxes could not be dispensed with by the State, as the nobility, and, in Catholic countries, the ecclesiastics, contributed nothing to his income. Besides this, it was an unheard-of thing for the people to be compelled by force into military service. However much he might feel himself the master, this was an innovation too much against the general feeling; the people bore their taxes and burdens expressly that he might carry on war for them. The peasant rendered service and soccage to his landlord, because in the olden time the latter had gone into the field for him. He then rendered taxes and service to the Sovereign because he had gone with his paid soldiers into the field for him, when his landlord was no longer willing to bear the burden; but now the peasant was to render the same service to landlord and Prince, and besides this to march himself to battle. This appeared impracticable; but again the pressure of bitter necessity was felt, and help must be found. Only the most indigent were to be taken—vagrants and idlers; but all whose labour was useful to the State, all who raised themselves in any sort out of the mass, were not to be disturbed.

Cautiously and slowly began the enlistment of the people for the military service of their Prince before 1700. It was proclaimed for the first time, but without success, that the country must supply recruits. The innovation was first attempted, it appears, by the Brandenburger in 1693: the provinces were to enlist and present the number of men wanting, yet not villeins; and the leaders of companies were to pay two thalers earnest money to each man. Soon they went further; and first, in 1704, called upon particular classes of tax-payers, and then in 1705 upon the community, to supply the necessary men. The recruits were to serve from two to three years, and those that willingly enlisted for six years and more were preferred. Exactly the same arrangement was made in Saxony in 1702 by King Augustus. There the communities had to provide for the Sovereign, as well as for the militia, an appointed number of young sound men, and to decide what individuals could be dispensed with. The enlistment-place was the Town-hall; the high-constables of the circles had the inspection. The man was delivered over without regimentals,—four thalers ready money were given,—the time of service two years,—and if the officer refused his discharge after two years, he who had served his time had the power to go away. Thus, timidly, did they begin to bring forward a new claim; and, in spite of all this caution, the opposition of the people was so violent and bitter that the new regulation was given up, and they returned again to enlistment. In 1708 forcible recruiting was abolished, "because it was too great an exaction." The iron will of Frederic William I. accustomed his people gradually to submit to this compulsion. After 1720 registers were made of children subject to military service, and in 1733 the "canton"[^[3]] system was introduced. The land was divided among the regiments; the citizens and peasants were, with many exceptions, declared subject to military service. Every year were the deficiencies in the regiments filled up through levies, in which, it must be remarked by the way, the greatest despotism on the part of the captains remained unpunished.

In Saxony they first succeeded, towards the end of the century, in carrying on the conscription together with the enlisting. In other parts, especially in small territories, that prospered less.

Thus the military system of Germany presents to our view this remarkable phenomenon, that at the same time in which increased intellectual development produced in the middle classes greater pretensions, together with higher culture and morals, the despotism of the rulers gradually effected another great political advance in the life of the people—the beginning of our common feeling of the duty of self-defence. And it is equally remarkable that this innovation did not begin in the form of a great and wise measure, but in conjunction with circumstances which would appear to be more especially adverse to it. The greatest severity and unscrupulousness of a despotic state showed itself precisely in that by which it prepared, though it did not carry out, the greatest step in political progress.

Too brutal and unscrupulous was the conduct of the officers who had to raise the levies, and too violent was the opposition and aversion of the people. The young men left the country in masses; no threatening of the gallows, of cutting off ears, or of confiscation of their property, could stop the fugitives. More than once the fanatical soldier-zealot Frederic William I. of Prussia was counteracted by the necessity of sparing his kingdom, which threatened to be depopulated. Never could more than half the number required be filled up by this conscription; the other half of the deficiency had to be raised by enlistment.

The enlisting, also, in the first half of the eighteenth century, was rougher work than it had been. The Sovereigns themselves were more dangerous recruiting officers than the captains of the old Landsknechte. And although the evils of this system were notorious, no one knew how to remedy it. The rulers, it is true, were not so much disquieted by the immorality attending it, as they were by the insecurity, costliness, and unceasing disputes which it involved, as well as by the reclamations of foreign governments. The recruiting officers were themselves often bad and untrustworthy men, whose proceedings and disbursements could with difficulty be controlled. Not a few lived for years a life of dissipation, with their accomplices, in foreign countries at the cost of their monarchs; charged exorbitant bounties, only succeeded in ensnaring a few, and could scarcely get these into the country. It soon followed that not half of those so enlisted ever became available to the army; for the greater part were the worst rabble, into whom military qualities could not always be flogged, whose diseased bodies and vicious habits filled the hospitals and prisons, and who ran away on the first opportunity.

The enlisting in the interior was carried on with every kind of violence; the officers and recruiting sergeants seized and carried off only sons who ought to have been exempt; students from the Universities, and whole colonies of villeins whom they settled on their own properties. Whoever wished to be exempt, was obliged to bribe, and was not even then safe. The officers were so protected in their violent extortions, that they openly despised all legal restraints. If there happened to be a great deficiency of men in time of war, all regard for law ceased. Then a formal, razzia was arranged, the city gates were beset by guards, and every one who went in or out subjected to a fearful examination, and whoever was tall and strong was seized; houses were broken into, and recruits were sought for from cellar to garret, even in families that ought to have been exempt. In the Seven Years' War, the Prussians even endeavoured to catch the scholars of the upper forms of the public schools in Silesia, for military service. In many families still lives the remembrance of the terror and danger occasioned to the grandfathers by the recruiting system. It was then a great misfortune for the sons of the clergy or officials to grow tall, and the usual warning of anxious parents was, "Do not grow, or you will be caught by the recruiting officer."

Almost worse were the illegalities practised by the recruiting sergeants seeking for recruits in foreign countries. The recruit was bound by the reception of the money; and the well-known manœuvre was to make simple lads drunk in jovial society, to press the money on them when intoxicated, take them into strict custody, and when, on becoming sober, they resisted, keep them by chains and every means of compulsion. Under escort and threatenings, the prisoners were dragged under the banners, and compelled to take the oath by barbarous punishments. Every other means of seduction was used besides drinking; gambling, prostitutes, lying, and every kind of deceit. Individuals considered desirable subjects were for days watched by spies. It was required of recruiting sergeants, who were paid for this purpose, to be especially expert in the art of outwitting. Advancement and presents of money depended on their knowing how to catch many men. Frequently they avoided, even where enlisting offices were allowed, showing themselves in uniform, and tried to seize their victims in every kind of disguise. Horrible were the basenesses practised in this man-hunting, and connived at by the governments. It was, in fact, slave-hunting; for the enlisted soldier could only perform his service in the great machine of the army, when he closed with all the hopes and wishes of his former life. It is a melancholy task to represent to oneself the feelings which worked in these victims; destroyed hopes, faintheartedness under violence, and heart-rending grief over a ruined life. It was not always the worst men who were hunted to death by running the gauntlet for repeated desertions, or flogged on account of insolent disobedience, till they lay senseless on the ground. Whoever could overcome his own inward struggle and accustom himself to the rough style of his new life, became a complete soldier, that is, a man who performed his service punctually, showed a firm spirit in attack, honoured or hated as enjoined, and perhaps felt some attachment to his flag; and probably much greater to the friend which made him for a time forget his situation—brandy.

Enlistment in foreign countries could only take place with the consent of the Government of the country. Urgently did warlike princes seek for permission from their neighbours for an enlistment office. The Emperor, indeed, had the best of it, for each of his regiments had, according to custom, a fixed recruiting district throughout Germany. The others, especially Prussia, had to provide a favourable district for it. The larger Imperial cities were frequently courteous enough to grant permission to the more powerful Sovereigns; consequently, they were not always able to protect the sons of their own noble families. The frontiers of France, Holland, and Switzerland, were favourable districts for catching recruits; for there were always deserters to be found in the territory which was surrounded by foreign domains, especially when a foreign fortress, with burdensome garrison service, lay in the neighbourhood. Anspach, Baireuth, Dessau, and Brunswick, were always a good market for the Prussians.

The recruiting officers of the different governments were not in equal repute. The Austrians had the best character; they were considered in the soldier world, coarse, but harmless; only took those that willingly yielded themselves, and kept to the agreement strictly. They had not much to offer, only three kreuzer and two pounds of bread daily; but they never were deficient in recruits. The Prussian recruiting officers, on the contrary, it must be owned, were in the worst repute; they lived in the highest style, were very insolent and unscrupulous, and fool-hardy devils. In order to catch a fine lad, they contrived the most audacious tricks, and exposed themselves to the greatest dangers: one knows that they were sometimes soundly beaten, when they found themselves in a minority, that they were imprisoned by foreign Governments, and more than one of them stabbed; but all this did not frighten them. This evil report lasted till Frederic William II. made his new rules of enlistment.

One of the best recruiting places in the empire was Frankfort-à-M., with its great fair; Prussians, Austrians, and Danes, still, at the end of the century, dwelt together there; the Danes had hung out their flag at the "Fir-tree;" the Austrians had, from olden times, stopped phlegmatically at the inn "The Red Ox;" but the restless Prussian recruiting officers were always changing; they were at this time the most distinguished and most splendid. A kind of diplomatic intercourse was maintained between the different parties; they were, it is true, jealous of one another, and endeavoured mutually to intercept each other's news; but they continued to visit and took wine and tobacco together as comrades. But Frankfort had already, after the seventeenth century, become the centre of a special branch of the business for entrapping men for the Imperial army. The recruiting officers sought not only new men, but also for deserters; and the bad discipline and want of military pride of the small southern German countries, as well as the facility of desertion, made it alluring to every good-for-nothing fellow to obtain new earnest money. In the recruiting rooms, therefore, of the Prussians and those of the "Red Ox," there hung a great variety of wardrobes from the different territories of the empire, which the deserters had left behind. Besides the wish to gain more bounty, there was yet another reason which led even the better sort of soldiers to desert—the wish to marry. No government approved of their soldiers burdening themselves with wives when in garrison, but, reckless as the military rulers were, they had no power in this respect. For there was no better means of keeping hold of a recruit than by marriage. If permission was refused, it was certain in garrisons near the frontier, that the soldier would fly with his maiden to the nearest inn where there was a foreign recruiting officer; and it was equally certain that he would there be married on the spot; for at every such recruiting place, there was a clergyman at hand for these cases.

The result of this was, that by far the greater number of soldiers were married, especially in the small States, where they could easily reach the frontier. Thus the Saxon army of about 30,000 men, reckoned in 1790, 20,000 soldiers' children; in the regiment of Thadden at Halle, almost half the soldiers were provided with wives. The soldiers' wives and children no longer went into the field, as in the old Landsknecht time, under the sergeants, but they were a heavy burden on the garrison towns. The women, supported themselves with difficulty by washing and other work; the children roamed about wildly without instruction. The city schools were almost everywhere closed to them; they were despised by the citizens like gipsies. Even in wealthy Lower Saxony at the beginning of the French revolution, there was no school for soldiers' boys except at Annaberg; this undoubtedly was well regulated, but did not suffice. For the girls there were none; there were neither preachers nor schools with the regiments. Only in Prussia was the education of the children and the training of the grown-up men—through preachers, schools, and orphan houses—seriously attended to.

When a man received earnest-money from a recruiting officer, his whole life was decided. He was separated from the society of the citizens by a chasm which the most persevering could seldom pass. Under the hard pressure of service, under rough officers and among still rougher comrades, ran the course of his life; the first years in ceaseless drilling, the following ones with occasional relaxation which allowed him to seek for some small service in the neighbourhood, as day-labourer, or some little handicraft. If he was considered secure, he would have leave for months, whether he wished it or not; then the captain kept his pay, and he had meanwhile to provide for himself. The citizens regarded him with distrust and aversion; the honesty and morals of the soldiers were in such bad repute, that civilians avoided all contact with them, if a soldier entered an inn, the citizen and artisan immediately left it, and the landlord considered it a misfortune to have visits from soldiers. Thus he was in his hours of recreation confined to intercourse with comrades and profligate women. Severe was the usage that he met with from his officers; he was cuffed and kicked, punished with flogging for the slightest cause, or placed on the sharp pointed wooden horse or donkey, which stood in the open place near the guard-house; for greater misdemeanors he was confined in chains, put on wooden palings, or if the crime was great, he had to run the gauntlet of rods cut by the Provost, till he died.

If in Prussia the predilection of the King for uniforms, and under Frederic the Great the glory of the army reconciled the Brandenburg conscript to the King's coat, this was far less the case in the rest of Germany. To the citizen and peasant's son in Prussia who had to serve, it was a misfortune, but in the rest of Germany a disgrace. Various were the attempts made to evade it by mutilation, but the chopping off a finger did not exempt, and was besides as severely punished as desertion. In 1790, a rich peasant lad in Lower Saxony, who by the hatred of the bailiff had been forced into service, was ashamed to enter his native village in uniform. Whenever he obtained leave, he stopped outside the village and had his peasant's dress brought to him, and a maid carried the uniform through the village in a covered basket.

Desertions, therefore, did not cease; they were the common evil of all armies, and were not to be prevented by running the gauntlet the first and second time, nor even the third with shot. In the garrisons the roll-call, which was incessant, and quiet espionnage of individuals, were insufficient means. But when the cannon gave the signal that a man had escaped, the alarm was given to the surrounding villages, mounted foresters and troopers trotted along all the roads, detachments of foot and horse scoured the country as far as the frontiers, and information was given to the villages. Whoever brought in a deserter received in Prussia ten thalers, but whoever did not stop him, had to pay double that sum as a punishment. Every soldier who went along the high road, was obliged to have a pass; in Prussia, by the orders of Frederic William I., every subject, whether high or low, was bound to detain every soldier he met on the road to inquire after his papers. It was a terrible thing, for a little artisan lad to be brought to a standstill in a lonely street by a desperate six-foot grenadier, with musket and sword, who could not be passed. Still worse was it when whole troops prepared for flight, like those twenty Russians of the Dessauer regiment at Halle, who, in 1734, obtained leave to attend the Greek service at Brandenburg, where the King kept a patriarch for his numerous Russian Grenadiers. But the twenty were determined to make a pilgrimage back to the golden cross of the holy Moscow; they passed with great staves through the Saxon villages, and were with difficulty caught by the Prussian Hussars, brought back by Dresden to their garrison, and there mildly treated. But yet more grievous was it to the King, that even among his own Potsdamers a conspiracy broke out, when his tall Servian Grenadiers had sworn to burn the town, and to desert with arms in their hands. There were people of importance at the bottom of it; the executions, cutting off of noses, and other modes of punishment, occasioned the King a loss of 30,000 thalers. In the field, also, a system of tactical regulations were necessary to restrain desertion; every night march, every camp on the outskirts of a wood, produced losses; the troops, both on the road and in camp, had to be surrounded by strong patrols of Hussars and pickets; in every secret expedition it was necessary to isolate the army by means of troops of light cavalry, in order that deserters might not carry news to the enemy. This order was still given to the Generals by Frederic II. In spite of all, however, in every campaign, after each lost battle, and even after those which were won, the number of deserters was fearfully great. After unfortunate campaigns, great armies were in danger of entire dissolution. Many who ran away from one army, went in speculation to another, like the mercenaries in the Thirty Years' War; indeed this changing and deserting had rough jovial attraction for adventurers. An imprisoned deserter was, in the opinion of multitudes, anything but an evil-doer,—we have many popular songs which express the full sympathy of the village singer for the unfortunate, but the happy deserter passed even for a hero, and in some popular tales, the valiant fellow who has been compelled to help the fictitious King out of danger, and at last marries the Princess, is a runaway soldier.

This royal soldiery was considered, in accordance with the ideas of that period, even after the popular arming of the militia, as the private possession of the Prince. The German Sovereigns, after the Thirty Years' War, had, as once did the Italian condottieri, trafficked with their military force; they had leased it to foreign powers, in order to make money and increase their influence. Sometimes the smallest territorial princes furnished in this way many regiments for the service of the Emperor, of the Dutch, and of the King of France. After the troops became more numerous, and were for the most part supplied from the children of the soil, this abuse of the Prince's power began gradually to strike the people with surprise. But it was not until after the wars of Frederic II. had inspired the people with patriotic warmth, that such appropriation became a subject of lively discussion. And when, after 1777, Brunswick, Anspach, Waldeck, Zerbst, and more than all Hesse-Cassel and Hanau, let out to England a number of regiments for service against the Americans, the indignation of the people was loudly expressed. Still it was only a lyrical complaint, but it sounded from the Rhine to the Vistula; the remembrance of it still lives; still does this misdeed hang like a curse upon one of the ruling families who then, to the most criminal extent, bartered away the lives of their subjects.

Among the German states Prussia was the one in which the tyranny of this military system was most severe, but at the same time it was in some respects developed with a rigid grandeur and originality which made the Prussian army for half a century the first military power in the world, and a model after which all the other armies of Europe were formed.

Any one who had entered Prussia shortly before 1740, when under the government of Frederic William I., would have been struck the very first hour by its peculiar characteristics. At field-labour, and in the streets of the cities, he would continually have seen slender men of warlike aspect, with a striking red necktie. They were "canton" men, who already as children had been entered on the register of soldiers, and sworn under a banner, and could be called upon if their King needed them. Each regiment had 500 to 800 of these reserves; one may therefore assume, that by these, an army of 64,000 men, could, in three months, be increased about 30,000, for everything was ready in the regimental rooms, both clothing and weapons. Anyone too, who first saw a regiment of Prussian infantry, would be still more astonished. The soldiers were of a height such as had never been seen in the world,—they appeared of a foreign race. When the regiment stood four ranks deep in line—the position in three ranks was just then introduced—the smallest men of the first rank were only a few inches under six foot, the fourth almost equally high, and the middle ones little less. One may assume that were the whole army placed in four ranks, the heads would make four straight lines; the weapons also were somewhat longer than elsewhere. Not less striking was the neat appearance of the men, they stood there like gentlemen, with good clean linen, their heads nicely powdered, and a cue, all in blue coats, with gaiters of unbleached linen up to their bright breeches; the regiments were distinguished by the colour of their waistcoats, facings, and lace. If a regiment wore beards, as for example the old Dessauers at Halle, the beard was nicely greased. Each man received yearly, before the review, a new uniform, even to the shirt and stockings, and in the field also he had two dresses. The officers looked still grander, with embroidered waistcoats, and scarfs round the waist, on the sword the "field badge;" all was gold and silver, and round the neck the gilded gorget, in the middle of which was to be seen on a white ground, the Prussian eagle. The captain and lieutenant bore in their hands the partisan, which had already been a little diminished, and was called spontoon; the subordinate officers still carried the short pike. It was considered smart for the dress to fit tight and close, and in the same style the motions of the soldiers were precise and angular, the deportment stiff and erect, their heads high. Still more remarkable were their movements; for they were the first soldiers that marched with equal step, the whole line raising and setting down their feet like one man. This innovation had been introduced by Dessau; the pace was slow and dignified, and even under the worst fire was little hastened: that majestic equal step, in the hottest moment at Mollwitz, carried confusion among the Austrians. The music also struck them with terror. The great brass drums of the Prussians (they have now, alas, come down to the insignificant size of a bandbox), raised a tremendous din. When in Berlin, at the parade of the Guards, some twenty drums were beaten, it made the windows shake. And among the hautboys there was a trumpet, equally a novel invention. The introduction of this instrument, created everywhere in Germany astonishment and disapprobation, for the trumpeters and kettle drummers of the holy Roman Empire formed a guild, which was protected by Imperial privileges, and would not tolerate a military trumpeter not belonging to it. But the King cared little for this. When the soldiers exercised, loaded, and fired, it was with a precision similar to witchcraft;[^[4]] for after 1740, when Dessau introduced the iron ramrod, the Prussian shot four or five times in a minute,—afterwards he learnt to do it quicker; in 1773, five or six times; in 1781, six or seven times. The fire of the whole front of the battalion was a flash and a crack. When the salvos of the troops, exercising early in the morning under the windows of the King's castle, roared, the noise was so great that all the little Princes and Princesses were obliged to rise.

But anyone who would have wished to form a right estimate of the soldiery should have gone to Potsdam. It had been a poor place, situated betwixt the Havel and a swamp; the King had made it into an architectural camp; no civilian could carry a sword there, not even the minister of state. There, round the King's castle, in small brick houses, which were built partly in the Dutch style, were stationed the King's giants,—the world-renowned Grenadier regiment. There were three battalions of 800 men, besides 600 to 800 reserves. Whoever among the Grenadiers was burdened with a wife, had a house to himself; of the other Colossuses, as many as four lodged with one landlord, who had to wait upon and provide food for them, for which he only received some stacks of wood. The men of this regiment never had leave, could carry on no public work, and drink no brandy; most of them lived like students at the high school, they occupied themselves with books, drawing and music, or worked in their houses.[^[5]] They received extra pay, the tallest from ten to twenty thalers a month: all these fine men wore high plated grenadier caps, which made them about four hand breadths taller; the fifers of the regiment were Moors. Whoever belonged to the Colonel's own company of the regiment had his picture taken and hung up in the corridor of the castle of Potsdam. Many distinguished persons travelled to Potsdam to see these sons of Anak at parade or exercising. But it was remarked that such giants were scarcely useful for real war, and that it had never occurred to any one in the world to seek for extraordinary height as advantageous to soldiers; this wonder was reserved for Prussia. But anyone who staid in the country did well not to express this too openly. For the Grenadiers were a passion of the King, which in his latter years amounted almost to madness, and for which he forgot his family, justice, honour, conscience, and what had stood highest with him all his life, the advantage of his State. They were his dear blue children; he was perfectly acquainted with each individual; took a lively interest in their personal concerns, and tolerated long speeches and dry answers from them. It was difficult for a civilian to obtain justice against these favourites, and they were with good reason feared by the people. Wherever in any part of Europe a tall man was to be found, the King traced him out, and secured him either by bounty or force for his guard. There was the giant Müller, who had shown himself in Paris and London for money—two groschen a person—he was the fourth or fifth in the line; still taller was Jonas, a smith's journeyman from Norway; then the Prussian Hohmann, whose head King Augustus of Poland,—though a man of fine stature—could not reach with his outstretched hand; finally later there was James Kirckland, an Irishman, whom the Prussian Ambassador Von Borke had carried off by force from England, and on account of whom diplomatic intercourse was nearly broken off; he had cost the King about nine thousand thalers.

They were collected together from every vocation of life, adventurers of the worst kind, students, Roman Catholic priests, monks, and even some noblemen stood in rank and file. The Crown Prince Frederic, in his letters to his confidential friends, spoke often with aversion and scorn of this passion of the King, but he had inherited it to a certain extent, and the Prussian army have not yet ceased to take pride in it. It extended to other princes also, especially to such as were attached to the Hohenzollerns, the Dessauers, and Brunswickers. In 1806, Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick, who was mortally wounded at Auerstadt, carried on a systematic dealing in men for his regiment at Halberstadt; in his own company the first rank were six foot, and the smallest man was five foot nine; all the companies were taller than the first regiment of guards is now. But in other armies also there was somewhat of this predilection. At the end of the last century, an able Saxon officer lamented that the first and tallest regiment in the Saxon army could not measure with the smallest of the Prussians.[^[6]]

Not less remarkable was the relation in which King Frederic William stood to his officers. He heartily feared and hated the wily sagacity of the diplomats and higher officials, but he readily confided his secret thoughts to the simple, sturdy, straightforward character of his officers, which was sometimes a mask. It was a favourite fancy to consider himself as their comrade. Many were the hours in which he treated as his equals many who wore the sash. He used to greet with a kiss all the superior officers down to the major, if he had not seen them for a long time. Once he affronted the Major Von Jürgass by using the opprobrious word by which officers then denoted a studious man; the drunken man replied, "That was the speech of a cowardly rascal," and then got up and left the party. The King declared that he could not allow that to pass, and was ready to take his revenge for the insult with sword or pistol. When those present protested against this, the King asked angrily how otherwise he could obtain satisfaction for his injured honour? They contrived a means of doing it by lieutenant-Colonel Von Einsiedel taking the King's place in the battalion, and fighting the duel in his stead. The duel took place, Einsiedel was wounded in the arm; for this the King filled his knapsack full of thalers, and commanded him to carry the heavy burden home. The King could not forget that as Crown Prince he had never risen in the service beyond a Colonel, and that a Field-Marshal was higher than himself. He therefore lamented in the "Tabak's Collegium,"[^[7]] that he had not been able to remain with King William of England: "He would certainly have made a great man of me, he could even have made me Statholder of Holland." And when it was maintained in reply that he himself was a greater King, he answered: "You speak according to your judgment; he would have taught me how to command the armies of all Europe. Do you know of anything greater?" So much did this strange Prince feel the not having become Field-Marshal. When he sat dying in his wooden chair, had cast behind him all earthly cares, and was observing with curiosity the process of dying in himself, he desired the funeral horse to be fetched from the stable, and in accordance with the old custom of sending it as a legacy from the Colonel to the General in command, he ordered the horse to be taken on his behalf to Leopold Von Dessau, and the grooms to be flogged because they had not put the right housings on him.[^[8]] Such was the Prince whose example was followed by the whole nobility of his country and in his army. Already under the great Elector had a sovereign contempt for all education displayed itself but too frequently in the army; already had such a repugnance to all learning been instilled into the early deceased Electoral Prince Karl Emil, by the officers around him, that he maintained that he who studied and learnt Latin was a coward. In the "Tabak's Collegium" of King Frederic William, still worse expressions were at first applied to this class of men. With the King himself there was undoubtedly an alteration in the last years of his life, but this tone of indifference to all knowledge which did not bear upon their own profession, remained with most of the Prussian officers till this century, in spite of all the endeavours of Frederic the Great. In 1790 the people still used the term, a Frederic William's officer, for a tall thin man, in a short blue coat, with a long sword and a tight cravat, who was spruce and earnest in all his actions as in service and had learnt little. About the same time Lafontaine, chaplain to the regiment Von Thadden, at Halle, complained of the little education of the officers. Once after giving them an historical lecture, a valiant captain took him on one side and said, "You tell us things that have happened thousands of years ago, God knows where; will you not tell us one thing more? How do you know this?" And when the chaplain gave him an explanation, the officer answered, "Curious! I thought it had always been as it is now in Prussia." The same captain could not read writing hand, but was a brave, trustworthy man.[^[9]]

But King Frederic William I. did not wish that his officers should remain quite uninformed. He caused the sons of poor noblemen to be educated at his cost, in the great cadet institution at Berlin, and practised in the service under the care of able officers; the most intelligent he employed as pages, and in small services as guards in the castle. As a rule, in Prussia, no poor nobleman had to provide for the advancement of his son; the King did it for him. The nobility, it was said, were the nursery for the spontoon. As soon as the boy was fourteen years old he wore the same coat of blue cloth as the King and his Princes; for as yet there were no epaulets or distinctions in the embroidery,—only the regiments were denoted by marks of distinction. Every Prince of the Prussian family had to serve and become an officer, like the son of the poorest nobleman. It was remarked by contemporaries that in the battle of Mollwitz ten princes of the King of Prussia's family were in the army. It had not previously been the custom anywhere, or at any time, that the King should consider himself as an officer, and the officer as on an equality with the princes.

By this comrade-training, the officers were placed in a position such as they had never had in any nation. It is true that all the faults of a privileged order were strikingly perceptible in them. Besides their coarseness, love of drinking and gluttony, the rage for duelling, the old passion of the German army, was not eradicated, although the same Hohenzollern, who had himself wished to fight with his Major, was inexorable in punishing with death every officer who killed another in a duel. But if such a "brave fellow" saved himself by flight, the King rejoiced if other governments promoted him. The duel was not then carried on in Prussia according to the usages of the Thirty Years' War: there were more seconds, and the number of passages was fixed; they fought on horseback with pistols and on foot with a sword. Before the combat the opponents shook hands—nay, they embraced each other, and exchanged forgiveness in case of death; if they were pious they went beforehand to confession and the Lord's Supper; no blow could be given till the opponent was in a position to use his sword; in case he fell to the ground or was disarmed, generosity was a duty; if anyone wished for a fatal result, he spread out his mantle, or, if like the officers after 1710 he wore none, he traced with his sword on the ground a square grave. After the reconciliation followed a banquet. Frequent and unpunished was the presumption of the officers toward the civilian officials, and brutal violence against the weak. Even the sensitiveness of officers for their honour, which then developed itself in the Prussian army, had no high moral authority; it was a very imperfect substitute for manly virtue, for it pardoned great vices and privileged meannesses. But it was an important step in advance for thousands of wild disorderly men.

Through it, was first brought forth in the Prussian army a devotion on the part of the nobles, perhaps too exclusive, to the idea of a State. It was first in the army of the Hohenzollerns that the idea penetrated into the minds of both officers and soldiers, that a man owed his life to his father-land. In no part of Germany have brave soldiers been wanting to die for their banner; but the merit of the Hohenzollerns, the rough, reckless leaders of a wild army, was, that while they themselves lived, worked and did good and evil for their State, with unbounded devotion, they also knew how to give to their army, besides respect for their flag, a patriotic feeling of duty. From the school of Frederic William I. sprang forth the army with which Frederic II. won his battles, which made the Prussian State of the last century the most terrible power in Europe, and by its blood and its victories excited in the whole nation the enthusiastic feeling that within the German frontiers was a fatherland, of which every individual might be proud, and to struggle and to die for which would bring the highest honour and the highest fame to every child of the country.

And this advance in German civilisation was contributed to, not only by the favoured men who, with gorgets and sashes, sat as comrades with the Colonel Frederic William on the stools of his "collegium," but also by the much tormented soldiers, who were constrained by blows to discharge their guns for their Sovereign's State.

But before speaking of the advantages of the government of a great King, we will give a narrative, by a Prussian recruit and deserter, of the sufferings occasioned by the old military system, in which the life of an insignificant individual is delineated.

The narrator is the Swiss Ulrich Bräcker, the man of Toggenburg, whose autobiography has been often printed,[^[10]] and it is one of the most instructive accounts that we possess of the life of the people. The biography contains, in the first part, an abundance of characteristic and pleasing features; the description of a poor family in a remote valley; the bitter struggle with poverty; the doings of the herdsmen; the first love of the young man; the cunning with which he was kidnapped by the Prussian recruiting officer; and his compulsory military service up to the battle of Lowositz; his flight home, and subsequent weary struggle for existence; the description of his household; and, finally, the resignation of a sensitive, enthusiastic nature which, partly by its own fault, was disturbed in the firm tenor of its own life, by a dreamy tendency and passionate ebullitions. The poor man of Toggenburg displays, throughout his detailed statement, a poetical and touching child-like spirit, a passionate desire to read, reflect, and form himself—in short, a sensitive organisation which was ruled by humours and phantasies.

Ulrich Bräcker was at his home in Toggenburg, with his father, occupied in felling wood, when an acquaintance of the family, a wandering miller, approached the workers, and advised the honest, simple Bräcker to go from the valley to the city, in order to make his fortune there. Amid the blessings of parents and sisters, the honest youth wanders with the friend of the family to Schaffhausen; there he was taken to an inn, where he made acquaintance with a foreign officer. When his companion accidentally absented himself for a short time, he agreed to remain with the officer as servant. The family friend returns, and is highly irate, not that Ulrich had entered into service, but that he had done this without his interposition; and had thus diminished his commission fee. It turned out afterwards that he himself had carried off the son of his countryman, in order to sell him, and that he had intended to ask twenty Friedrichsdor for him. Ulrich, dressed in a new livery, lived for a time very jovially as servant of his dissipated master—the Italian Markoni—without concerning himself particularly about the secret transactions of the latter. He felt comfortable in his new position, and wrote a succession of cheerful letters to his parents and his love. At last his master made use of a lie to send him further into the country, and finally to Berlin; he there discovered, with horror, that his beautiful livery and his jovial life had been nothing but a deceit practised on him. His master was a recruiting officer, and he himself a recruit. From this point he shall relate his own fate:—

"It was on the 8th of April that we entered Berlin, and I in vain inquired for my master, who, as I afterwards learnt, had arrived eight days before us. When Labrot brought me into the Krausenstrasse in Friedrichstadt, showed me to a lodging, and then left me, saying shortly: 'There, messieur! stay till you get further orders!' Hang it! thought I, what is all this? It is certainly not even an inn. As I thus wondered, a soldier came. Christian Zittermann, and took me with him to his room, where there were already two sons of Mars. Now there was much wondering and inquiring, who I was? why I had come? and the like. I could not well understand their language. I replied shortly: 'I come from Switzerland, and am lacquey to his Excellency Herr Lieutenant Markoni; the sergeants have shown me here; but I should like to know whether my master is arrived at Berlin, and where he lives.' Here the fellows began to laugh, whereupon I could have cried, and none of them would hear of such an Excellency. Meanwhile they brought me a very stiff mess of pease porridge. I eat of it with little appetite.

"We had hardly finished, when an old thin fellow entered the room, who I now saw must be more than a common soldier. He was a sergeant. He carried a soldier's uniform on his arm, which he spread upon the table, laid beside it a six groschen piece, and said: 'That is for you, my son! I will bring you directly some ammunition bread.' 'What? for me?' answered I, 'from whom? what for?' 'Why your uniform and pay, lad! what's the use of asking questions? You are a recruit.' 'How? what? a recruit?' answered I; 'God forbid! I have never thought of such a thing. No, never in my life. I am Markoni's servant. That was what I agreed for and nothing else. No man can tell me otherwise.' 'But I tell you, fellow, that you are a soldier, I can answer for that. There is no help for it.' I: 'Ah, if my master Markoni were but here!' He: 'You will not soon get a sight of him. Would you not rather be a servant to our King, than to his lieutenant?' Therewith he went away. 'For God's sake, Herr Zittermann,' I continued, 'what does this mean?' 'Nothing, sir,' answered he, 'but that you, like I, and the other gentlemen there, are soldiers, and consequently all brothers, and that no opposition will avail, except to take you to the guard-house, where you will have bread and water, have your hands bound, and be flogged till your ribs crack, and you are satisfied.' I: 'By my troth that would be shameful, wicked!' He: 'Believe me upon my word it will be so, and nothing else.' I: 'Then I will complain to the King.' Here they all laughed loud. He: 'You will never see him.' I: 'To whom else can I complain?' He: 'To our Major, if you choose. But that will be all in vain.' I: 'I will try, however, whether it will avail!' The lads laughed again." (The Major kicked him out with blows.)

"In the afternoon the sergeant brought me my ammunition bread, together with my musket and side-arms and so forth, and asked whether I now thought better of it? 'Why not?' answered Zittermann for me; 'he is the best lad in the world.' Then they led me into the uniform room, and fitted on me a pair of pantaloons, shoes and boots, gave me a hat, necktie, stockings, and so forth. Then I had to go with some twenty other recruits to Colonel Latorf. They took us into a room as large as a church, brought in some tattered flags, and commanded each of us to take hold of a corner. An Adjutant, or whoever he was, read us a whole heap of the articles of war, and repeated some words which most of them murmured after him; but I did not open my mouth, but thought of what pleased me, I believe it was of Aennchen; he then waved the banner over our heads and dismissed us. Hereupon I went to a cook-shop and got something to eat, together with a mug of beer. For this I had to pay two groschen. Now I had only four out of the six remaining to me; with these I had to provide for myself for four days, and they would scarcely last two. Upon this calculation I began to make great lamentations to my comrades. One of them, called Eran, said to me with a smile, 'You will soon learn. Now it does not signify to you; for have you not something to sell? For example your whole servant's livery; thus you are at present doubly armed; all that will turn into silver. And as to your ménage, only observe what others do. Three, four or five, club together to buy corn, peas, and potatoes, and the like, and cook for themselves. In the morning they have a half-penny worth of bad brandy and a piece of ammunition bread; in the middle of the day they get a half-penny worth of soup, and take a piece of ammunition bread; in the evening they have two penny worth of small beer, and again the bread.' 'But that, by Jove, is a cursed life,' I answered; he said, 'Yes! thus one gets on, and not otherwise. A soldier must learn this; for many other things are necessary: pipeclay, powder, blacking, oil, emery, and soap, and a hundred other things.' I: 'And that is all to be paid for out of six groschen?' He: 'Yes! and still more; as for example, the pay for washing, for cleaning the weapons and so forth, if you cannot do those things yourself.' Thereupon we went to our quarters, and I got on as well as I could.

"During the first week I still had a holiday; I went about the town to all the places of drill, and saw how the officers inspected and flogged the soldiers, so that beforehand for very fear, great drops of sweat broke out on my brow. I therefore begged of Zittermann to show me at home how to handle my weapons. 'You will learn that by-and-by,' said he, 'but if you are dexterous you will get on like lightning.' Meanwhile he was so good as really to show me everything, how to keep my weapon clean, how to squeeze myself into my uniform, and to dress my hair in a soldierly style, and so forth. After Eran's counsel, I sold my boots, and bought with the money a wooden chest to hold my linen. In quarters I practised myself in exercising, read the Halle hymn-book or prayed. Then I walked by the Spree and saw there hundreds of soldiers employed in lading and unlading merchants' wares; the timber yard also was full of soldiers at work. Another time I went to the barracks and so forth; I found everywhere the like, a hundred sorts of business carried on, from works of art to the distaff. If I came to the guard-house, I there found those who played, drank, and jested; others who quietly smoked their pipes and conversed, some few who read an edifying book and explained it to the others. In the cook-shops and breweries, things went on after the same fashion. In Berlin we had among the military—as I think indeed is the case in all great cities—people from all the four quarters of the world, of all nations and religions, of all characters and of every profession by which men can earn their bread.

"The second week I had to attend every day on the parade-ground, where I unexpectedly found three of my country-people. Shärer, Bachmann, and Gästli, who were all in the same regiment with me—Itzenplitz—both were in the company called Lüderitz. At first I had to learn to march under a crabbed corporal, with a crooked nose, by name Mengke; this fellow I hated like death; when he hit me on the feet the blood went to my head. Under his hands I should have learnt nothing all my days. This was observed by Hevel, who manœuvred with his people on the same ground, so he exchanged me for another, and took me into his platoon. This was a heartfelt pleasure to me. Now I learned in an hour more than in ten days with the other.

"Shärer was as poor as I; but he got an augmentation of two groschen and a double portion of bread, for the Major thought a good bit more of him than of me. Meanwhile we loved each other as brothers; as long as one had anything the other would share it with him. Bachmann, on the contrary, who also lodged with us, was a niggardly fellow, and did not agree with us; nevertheless the hours always appeared as long as day when we could not be together. As soon as our drills were over, we flew together to Schottmann's cellar, drank our mug of Ruppin or Kotbuss beer, smoked a pipe, and trilled a Swiss song. The Brandenburgers and Pomeranians always listened to us with pleasure. Some gentlemen even sent for us express to a cook-shop, to sing the ranz-des-vackes. The musicians' pay principally consisted in nasty soup, but in such a situation one must be content with still less.

"We often related to one another our manner of life at home; how well off we were and how free; and what a cursed life we led here, and the like. Then we made plans for our escape. Sometimes we entertained hopes that we might succeed; at other times we saw before us insurmountable difficulties, and we were principally deterred by thinking of the consequences of an unsuccessful attempt. We heard every week fearful stories of deserters brought back, who, even when they had been so cunning as to disguise themselves in the dresses of sailors and other artisans, or even as women, and had concealed themselves in tuns and casks, and the like, had yet been caught. Then we had to look on while they ran the gauntlet eight times through two hundred men, till they sank down breathless—and then again the following day; their clothes were torn off from their hacked backs, and the punishment was repeated till the coagulated blood hung over their trousers. Then Shärer and I looked at each other trembling and deadly pale, and whispered to one another, 'Cursed barbarians!' What took place also on the drill-ground gave occasion for similar observations. There was no end of the curses and scourgings by barbarous Junkers, and again the lamentations of those who had been flogged. We ourselves were always the first on the ground, and played our part vigorously; but it did not the less give us pain to see others so unmercifully treated for every little trifle, and ourselves so ill-used year after year; to stand also for five whole hours laced up in our uniforms as if screwed to the spot, marching to and fro as straight as poles, and to perform uninterrupted manual exercise with lightning rapidity; and this all at the command of officers who stood before us with furious countenances and raised sticks, every moment threatening to beat us about the head as if we were cabbages. Under such treatment, a fellow with the strongest nerves must become paralysed, and the most patient, raving. And when we returned, wearied to death, to our quarters, we had to go headlong to our washing, to rub out every spot; for with the exception of the blue coat, our whole uniform was white. Weapons, cartouche-boxes, belt, every button on the uniform, all must be cleaned as bright as a mirror. If there was anything in the least wrong in any of these articles, or if a hair was not right on our heads when we appeared on parade, we were greeted with a heavy shower of blows. It is true that our officers had received the strictest orders to examine us from head to foot; but the devil a bit did we recruits know about it, and we thought it was the custom of war.

"At last came the great epoch, when it was said 'Allons, to the field!' Now came the route—tears flowed in abundance from citizens, soldiers' wives, and the like. Even the soldiers themselves, namely, those of the country who had wives and children to leave behind, were quite cast down, full of sorrow, and grief: the strangers, on the contrary, secretly shouted for joy, and exclaimed, 'At last, God be praised; our release will come!' Every one was loaded like mules, first buckled round with his sword belt; then with the cartouche-box over his shoulder, with a long five-inch strap; over the other shoulder the knapsack, with linen, &c.; also the haversack, filled with bread and other forage. Besides this, every one must carry a portion of field utensils, a flask, kettle, a hatchet, or such like, all fastened by a thong; and then a flint, or something of that sort: thus had we five straps upon the breast, one across the other, so that in the beginning each one thought that he would be suffocated with such a burden. Then there was the tight-fitting uniform, and such dog-day heat, that I many times thought that I was going upon red hot coals; and if I opened the breast of my coat to get a little air, steam came out as from a boiling kettle. Often I had not a dry thread on my body, and almost fainted from thirst.

"Thus we marched the first day, the 22nd of August, out of the Köpeniker gate, and marched for four hours to the little town of Köpenik, where from thirty to fifty of us were quartered on the citizens, who were obliged to feed us for one groschen. Potz plunder! how things did go on here! Ha! how we did eat! But only think how many great hungry fellows we were! We were all calling out, 'Here, Canaille, fetch us what you have in your most secret corner.' At night the rooms were filled with straw; there we lay all in rows against the walls. Truly a curious household! In every house there was an officer, to keep good discipline, but they were often the worst.

"'Hitherto has the Lord helped!' These words were the first text of our Chaplain at Pirna. Oh, yes, thought I, that He has, and will, I truly hope, help me further to my Fatherland. For what are your wars to me?

"Meanwhile every morning we received orders to load quickly; this gave rise among the old soldiers to the following talk: 'What shall we have to-day? to-day certainly something is afoot!' Then we young ones perspired at all pores if we marched by a bush or a wood, and had to be on the alert. Then every one silently pricked up his ears, expecting each moment a fiery hail and his death; and when we came again into the open, looked right and left, how he could most conveniently escape; for we had always the cuirassiers, dragoons, and other soldiers of the enemy on both sides.

"At last on the 22nd September, the alarm was sounded, and we received orders to break up. In a moment all were in motion; in a few minutes a camp a mile in length—like the largest city—was broken up, and Allons, march! Now we proceeded into the valley, made a bridge at Pirna, and formed above the town, in front of the Saxon camp, in a line, as if for running the gauntlet; of which the end reached the Pirna gate, and through which the whole Saxon army in fours passed having first laid down their arms; and one may imagine what mocking, taunting words they must have heard during the whole long passage. Some went sorrowfully with bent heads; others defiant and reckless; and others again with a smile, for which the Prussian mocking-birds would gladly have paid them off. I know not, neither do many thousand others, what were the circumstances which occasioned the surrender of this great army. On the same day we marched a good bit further, and pitched our camp near Lilienstein.

"We were often attacked by the Imperial Pandours, or a hail of shot came upon us from the carabineers from behind the bushes, so that many were killed on the spot and still more wounded. But when our artillery directed a few guns towards the copse, the enemy fled head foremost. These miserable trifles did not frighten me much. I should have become soon accustomed to them, and I often thought, when the thing takes place, it is not so bad after all.

"Early on the morning of the 1st of October we had to fall into rank and march through a narrow valley towards the great valley. We could not see far for the thick fog. But when we had reached the plain and joined the great army, we advanced in three divisions, and perceived in the distance, through the fog as through a veil, the enemy's troops on the plain over against the Bohemian city of Lowositz. It was Imperial cavalry, for we never got sight of the infantry, as it had intrenched itself near the said city. About 6 o'clock the thunder of the artillery both from our front line and also from the Imperial batteries was so great that the balls whizzed through our regiment, which was in the centre. Hitherto I had always hoped to escape before a battle, but now I saw no means of doing so either before or behind me, neither to the right nor to the left. Meanwhile we continued to advance. Then all my courage oozed away; I could have crept into the bowels of the earth, and one could see the same terror and deadly pallor on all faces, even those who had hitherto affected so much valour. The empty brandy flasks (such as every soldier has) flew among the balls through the air; most drank up their little provision to the last drop, for they said, 'To-day we want courage, to-morrow we may need no drams!' Now we advanced quite under the guns, where we changed places with the first division. Potz Himmel! how the iron fragments whizzed about our heads,—falling now before and now behind us into the earth, so that stones and sods flew into the air,—and some into the middle of us, so that some of our people were picked off from the ranks as if they had been blades of straw. Straight before us we saw nothing but the enemy's cavalry, which made movements in all directions; now extended themselves lengthways, now as a half moon, then drew together again in triangles and squares. Now our cavalry advanced, we made an opening and let them through to gallop on the enemy. There was a hailstorm of missiles rattling, and sabres glittering as they cut them down; but it lasted only a quarter of an hour; our cavalry were beaten by the Austrians and pursued almost under our guns. What a spectacle it was to see: horses with their riders hanging to the stirrup, others with their entrails trailing on the ground. Meanwhile we continued to stand under the enemy's fire till towards 11 o'clock, without our left wing closing with the skirmishers, although the fire was very hot on the right. Many thought we were to storm the Imperial intrenchments. I was no longer in such terror as at the beginning, although the gunners of the culverins were carried off close on both sides of me, and the field of battle was already covered with dead and wounded. About 12 o'clock orders came for our regiment, together with two others (I believe Bevern and Kalkstein), to march back. Now we thought we were going to the camp, and that all danger was over. We hastened therefore with cheerful steps up the steep vineyard, filled our hats with beautiful red grapes, eat them with heartfelt pleasure, and neither I nor any near me expected anything disagreeable, although from the heights we saw our brothers beneath, still under fire and smoke, and heard a fearful thundering noise; we could not tell which side was victorious. Meanwhile our leaders took us still higher up the hill, on the summit of which was a narrow pass betwixt rocks, which led down to the other side. As soon, however, as our advanced-guard had reached this spot, there was a terrible storm of musketry; and now we first discovered what was in the wind. Some thousand Imperial Pandours were marching up the other side of the hill in order to take our army in rear; this had been betrayed to our leaders, and we were to anticipate them; only five minutes later and they would have won the heights, and we should probably have been worsted. There was indescribable bloodshed before we could drive the Pandours from that thicket. Our advanced troops suffered severely, but those behind pushed forward headlong till the heights were gained.

"Then we had to stumble over heaps of dead and wounded, and the Pandours went pell-mell down the vineyard, leaping over a wall one after another into the plain. Our native Prussians and Brandenburgers attacked the Pandours like furies. I myself was almost stupefied with haste and heat, and felt neither fear nor horror. I discharged almost all my cartridges as fast as I could, till my musket was nearly red-hot, and I was obliged to carry it by the strap; meanwhile I do not believe that I hit a living soul, it all went in the air. The Pandours posted themselves again on the plain by the water before the city of Lowositz, and blazed away valiantly up into the vineyard, so that many in front of and near me bit the ground. Prussians and Pandours lay everywhere intermingled, and if one of these last still stirred, he was knocked on the head with the butt end of the gun, or run through the body with the bayonet. And now the combat was renewed in the plain. But who can describe how it went on amidst the smoke and fog from Lowositz, where it rattled and thundered as if heaven and earth would be rent in twain, and where all the senses were stunned by the ceaseless rumbling of many hundred drums, the shrill and heart-stirring tones of all kinds of martial music, the commands of so many officers, the bellowing of their adjutants, and the death yells and howling imprecations of so many thousands of miserable, maimed, dying victims of this day. At this time it might be about three o'clock, Lowositz being on fire; many hundred Pandours, on whom our advanced troops again broke like wild lions, sprang into the water, and the town was then attacked. At this time I was certainly not in the van, but in the vineyard above, in the rear rank, of whom many, as I have said, more nimble than myself, leaped down from one wall over another, in order to hasten to the help of their brother soldiers. As I was thus standing on a little elevation, and looking down upon the plain as into a dark storm of thunder and hail, this moment appeared to me to be the time—or rather my good angel warned me—to save myself by flight. I looked therefore all round me. Before me all was fire and mist; behind me there were still many of our troops hastening after the enemy, and to the right two great armies in full order of battle. But at last I saw that to the left there were vineyards, bushes, and copseland, only here and there a few men Prussians, Pandours, and Hussars, and of these more dead and wounded than living. There, there, on that side, thought I; otherwise it would be purely impossible.

"I glided, therefore, at first with slow step, a little to the left, through the vines. Some Prussians hastened past me. 'Come, come, brother!' said they; 'victoria!' I replied not a word, but feigned to be wounded, and went on slowly, but truly with fear and trembling. As soon as I had got so far, that no one could see me, I mended my pace, looked right and left like a hunter, viewed again from a distance—and for the last time in my life—the murderous death struggle; rushed at full speed past a thicket full of dead Hussars, Pandours, and horses; ran breathlessly along the course of the river, and found myself in a valley. On the other side some Imperial soldiers came towards me, who had equally stolen away from the battle, and when they saw me thus making off levelled their guns at me for the third time, notwithstanding I had reversed my arms, and given them with my hat the usual sign. They did not fire; so I came to the resolution to run towards them. If I had taken another course they would, as I afterwards learnt, have certainly fired. When I came up to them, I gave myself up as a deserter, and they took my weapon away from me, with the promise that they would afterwards restore it. But he who had taken upon himself to promise it, stole away and took the gun with him. So let it be! They then took me to the nearest village, Scheniseck (it might be a good hour from Lowositz); here there was a ferry over the water, but only one boat for the passage. And there was a piteous shrieking and wailing from men, women, and children; each wished to go first over the water, for fear of the Prussians; for all thought they were close at hand. I also was not one of the last to jump in with a troop of women. If the ferryman had not cast out some we should have been drowned. On the other side of the stream stood a Pandour guard. My companions led me up to them, and these red-moustachioed fellows received me in the most polite way; gave me, though neither of us understood a word the other said, tobacco and brandy, and a safe conduct, I believe, to Leutmeritz, where I passed the night among genuine Bohemians, and truly did not know whether I could safely lay my head to rest; but fortunately my head was in such confusion from the tumult of the day, that this important point signified very little to me. The following day (Oct. 2) I went with a detachment to the Imperial camp at Buda. Here I met two hundred other Prussian deserters, each of whom had, so to speak, taken his own way and his own time.

"We had permission to see everything in the camp. Officers and soldiers stood in crowds around us to whom we were expected to tell more than we ourselves knew. Some, however, knew how to brag, and flatter their present hosts, concocting a hundred lies derogatory to the Prussians. There were also among the Imperialists many arrant braggadocios, and the smallest dwarf boasted of having, in his own flight, killed, in their flight, I know not how many long-legged Brandenburgers. After that they took us to fifty prisoners of the Prussian cavalry, a pitiable sight! Scarcely one who was not wounded; some cut about the face, others on the neck, others over the ears, shoulders, or legs, &c. There was amongst all a groaning and moaning. How fortunate did these poor fellows esteem us who had escaped a similar fate, and how thankful were we to God! We passed the night in the camp, and each received a ducat for the expenses of his journey. They sent us then with a cavalry escort—there were two hundred of us—to a Bohemian village, from whence, after a short sleep, we went, the following day, to Prague. There we divided ourselves, and obtained passports for six, ten, or even as many as twelve, who were going the same way. We were a wonderful medley of Swiss, Suabians, Saxons, Bavarians, Tyrolese, Italians, French, Poles, and Turks. Six of us got one passport for Ratisbon."

Here we end with Ulrich Bräcker. He arrived happily at home, but no one recognised the moustachioed soldier in his uniform. His sister concealed herself; his love had been faithless and married another; only the mother's heart discovered her son in that wild-looking figure. But his later life in the lonely valley was ruined by the adventures he had passed through. A strange, uneasy element now pervaded his character—irritable restlessness, covetousness, and a distaste to labour.

But Frederic II. wrote, after the battle of Lowositz, to Schwerin: "Never have any troops done such wonders of valour since I have had the honour of commanding them."

He whose narrative we have had was one of them.