HERR VON SCHLIEFFEN AND HIS MONKEYS.
I have never elsewhere seen oaks thrust forth their gnarled branches so proudly and vigorously in the air, nor slender shining beech-trees form such majestic arcades overhead, as those in the little wood belonging to the Schlieffen estate of Windhausen, about three miles to the east of Cassel. One is struck with astonishment and admiration on beholding these gigantic works of fertile Nature, with their sturdy trunks, often twenty or thirty feet in girth, and their magnificent foliage, beneath the shade of which the pathway winds through ferns and flowers, among cool grottoes, arbours, hermitages, and monuments of various kinds.
In the midst of this little wood, and on the bank of a tiny lake, stands a moderate-sized mansion, which has been deserted since the death of him who erected it, and the front of which faces the rising sun. Behind are the farm buildings, hemmed in on all sides by luxuriant foliage. So secluded is the spot that a traveller might pass almost close to the mansion without seeing it, while from afar the red-tile roofs are visible only from the high ground.
There lived here not more than thirty or forty years ago, in philosophical repose and contemplation, Lieutenant-General Martin Ernst von Schlieffen, formerly Hessian Minister of State, an honourable old gentleman, and a valiant German soldier, with correct ideas of honour and right; one of the pupils of the Seven Years’ War, a lover of art and science, himself blessed with a lively fancy, and, in addition, a philosopher and somewhat of a character. He was born in Pomerania in the year 1732. It was his lot to receive a defective education, and, when scarcely more than a mere boy, the rank of ensign in a Prussian regiment. A lingering illness, which prostrated him at the expiration of two or three years, caused the King probably to doubt the youth’s further fitness for service, and, instead of the extension of leave demanded, to send him his dismissal. On recovering his health the youth remained for some time without any occupation, till the outbreak of the Seven Years’ War encouraged him to offer his services once more to Frederick II. But the King would not have him, so he went, with recommendations from Prince Henry of Prussia and of Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick in his pocket, to Cassel, where the Landgrave made him a lieutenant in the Hessian contingent in the pay of England. In this position he so distinguished himself, first under the Duke of Cumberland, and then under the latter’s successor, Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick, that, within five years, he worked his way up to a colonelcy, and was summoned to Cassel as Adjutant-General and Chamberlain by the Landgrave. Court life, however, detained him captive for only a short time, and he returned to the victorious standard of his celebrated general, who met with so deplorable a death at Jena. Herr von Schlieffen had attracted the attention of his hereditary King, and Frederick the Great now made an attempt to gain once more to his service the man whom, but a few years previously, he had so ungraciously rebuffed. But the Landgrave created him a general, and Herr von Schlieffen continued in his service. By the advice of the Prince he refused, also, a tempting offer from the Emperor of Russia, and, in consideration of his so doing, the Landgrave settled upon him a life annuity of one thousand thalers. While Fortune thus lavished her gifts upon him, he devoted himself zealously to study, in order to make up for his neglected education. He learned Greek and Latin, of which he acquired such a knowledge as to be capable of reading the old classic authors in their original language. He accompanied the Landgrave on his travels to Paris and Berlin. He then proceeded, on business of his own, to Warsaw, and, on his return to Cassel, entered the ministry. He subsequently obtained the post of ambassador in London, where friends and former brothers-in-arms essentially advanced his efforts for the benefit of his sovereign. At length—for what is more fickle than the favour of the great—he incurred the displeasure of the Landgrave, and obeyed a summons to Prussia as general and governor of the fortress of Wesel. A year later, when the Belgian provinces had torn themselves from Austria, and created themselves into an independent State, a message was despatched from the deputies assembled in Brussels to Herr von Schlieffen, inviting him to assume the Stadtholdship. Consideration for Prussia, at that very time engaged in negotiations for a reconciliation with Austria, made him determine to refuse this honour. Hereupon the King, no longer Frederick II., sent for him to Berlin, and offered him the portfolio of Foreign Affairs. But Herr von Schlieffen found the Court in so unfavourable a situation, the influence of England so predominant, and Austria attached in so loose and ambiguous a manner to Prussia, that he refused to enter the ministry. Though he was greatly esteemed by the King, he was, after a short time, induced to send back his general’s staff to his majesty. The fact is that, when Austria and Prussia agreed to take up arms against the revolutionary party in France, Herr von Schlieffen endeavoured to convince the King of the danger and foolishness of such intervention. But his honest efforts were in vain; the campaign against the Republic was resolved on, and Herr von Schlieffen, who should have been one of the first to march out, was left behind. He pressed the King either to alter this arrangement or allow him to retire, because he saw in it an insulting slight. As neither the one course nor the other was taken he resigned his posts, and retired to his estates. The King, however, remained well disposed towards him, and, some years subsequently, Herr von Schlieffen, in order to refute calumnies and envious Court tittle-tattle, felt himself called on once more to place himself at the King’s disposal; as, however, it was not yet decided whether or no Prussia would take part in the projected campaign of 1794, the King, in a gracious letter of thanks, declined his offer. Out of a feeling of patriotism, he had not accepted an invitation he received in the year 1792 to join the French army as a general. At a subsequent period, when Napoleon’s star was in the ascendant, and the relations between France and Germany were becoming more threatening, Frederick William sought, it is true, to obtain once again the services of the holiday-keeping hero, but the latter, assigning his age as an excuse, repressed his desire of reappearing as an actor upon the stage of glory and of honour. Who knows how matters would have ended at Jena had all the other old generals of the Prussian army then followed his example?
His career had brought him into contact with many princes and great men, whose favour and friendship accompanied him into his seclusion. In addition to the estate of Windhausen, he possessed a larger one, Schlieffenberg, in Mecklenburg, but he preferred residing in Hesse, under the standard of which country he had served with honour for thirty-two years. Thenceforth, a robust, vigorous, and cheerful old man, he lived in the lonely forest-residence he had built, devoting himself to his studies, his friends, and his recollections.
When, after the Treaty of Tilsit, a decree of Napoleon, in 1807, created the Kingdom of Westphalia, the young King Jérôme Bonaparte offered the veteran, then seventy-five years old, a position equal to that he formerly held. But the splendour of the new Court did not tempt him, and he preferred continuing his anchorite’s life, to which he had become attached, in Windhausen. He could not, however, as a landed proprietor and former member of the Hessian Chambers, avoid obeying the command for him to take his place in the Westphalian Diet, summoned for occasional gay ceremonials and displays of magnificence, of little importance to the State and yielding no remuneration to its members. He was obliged, also, now and then to attend the Court. But he refused to appear in any other costume than his uniform as a Prussian general, and Jérôme, suppressing his dissatisfaction, allowed him to do so. After the return of the Elector, in the year 1813, Herr von Schlieffen speedily perceived that he was in great disgrace with that prince. Some one had secretly told the latter that, in the action with the Czarmitschen Cossacks, Schlieffen had assisted the usurper. In vain did the grey-haired general exert himself to confound this calumny. The Elector believed it, but perhaps only for the purpose of having an excuse for another act of injustice of which he was guilty. He ordered that the life annuity of one thousand thalers, granted to Schlieffen by the Landgrave Frederick, and expressly confirmed by the Elector himself on his accession to the throne, should no longer be paid. Moreover, Schlieffen was no more invited to Court.
Though the events of the last few years had greatly diminished his income, he would have got over the loss of the thousand thalers a year as easily as he consoled himself for that of Court favour. But the reckless injustice he perceived in such conduct grieved him profoundly and embittered the remainder of his days. He died, unmarried, at the age of ninety two, on the 15th September, 1825, and was buried in a small mausoleum which he had built long previously in the forest at Windhausen. The inscriptions, also, are from his pen. On a tablet of red sandstone let into the side looking towards the east are the following lines:—
The Sepulchre
Of the first Schlieffen,
Possessor of yonder secluded Pile,
In whose calm retreat, and in the woods surrounding it with shade,
From the irksome Life of the Court, and the Troubles of the Warrior in time
of Peace,
Escaping as frequently as possible,
He found, favoured by Fate,
And guided perhaps by his opinions,
More sweet than bitter Hours,
Thankful for the former, resigned to the latter,
Tranquil as to the Future.