"Upon which—upon which, in fact, the War had to end. Rainy weather came, deluges of rain; Burgoyne, with or without the sixteen battalions of Portuguese, kept the grip he had. Valencia d'Alcantara and its Magazine a settled business, roads round gone all to mire,—this Third Division, and with it the 42,000 in general, finding they had nothing to live upon, went their ways again." NOTE, The Burgoyne, who begins in this pretty way at Valencia d'Alcantara, is the same who ended so dismally at Saratoga, within twenty years:—perhaps, with other War-Offices, and training himself in something suitabler than Parliamentary Eloquence, he might have become a kind of General, and have ended far otherwise than there?—
"Such was the credit account on Carlos's side: By gratuitous assault on Portugal, which had done him no offence; result zero, and pay your expenses. On the English, or PER CONTRA side, again, there were these three items, two of them specifically on Carlos: FIRST, Martinique captured from the French this Spring (finished 4th February, 1762): [Gentleman's Magazine for 1762, p. 127.]—was to have been done in any case, Guadaloupe and it being both on Pitt's books for some time, and only Guadaloupe yet got. SECONDLY, King Carlos, for Family Compact and fruitless attempt at burglary on an unoffending neighbor, Debtor: 1. To Loss of the Havana (6th June-13th August, 1762), [Ib. pp. 408-459, &c.] which might easily have issued in loss of all his West Indies together, and total abolition of the Pope's meridian in that Western Hemisphere; and 2. To Loss of Manilla, with his Philippine Islands (23d September-6th October, 1762), [Gentleman's Magazine for 1762, xxxiii. 171-177.] which was abolition of it in the Eastern. After which, happily for Carlos, Peace came,—Peace, and no Pitt to be severe upon his Indies and him. Carlos's War of ten months had stood him uncommonly high."
All these things the English Public, considerably sullen about the Cabinet-Council event of October 3d, ascribed to the real owner of them. The Public said: "These are, all of them, Pitt's bolts, not yours,—launched, or lying ready for launching, from that Olympian battery which, in the East and in the West, had already smitten down all Lallys and Montcalms; and had force already massed there, rendering your Havanas and Manillas easy for you. For which, indeed, you do not seem to care much; rather seem to be embarrassed with them, in your eagerness for Peace and a lazy life!"—Manilla was a beautiful work; [A JOURNAL OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF HIS MAJESTY'S FORCES IN THE EXPEDITION TO MANILLA (London Gazette, April 19th, 1763; Gentleman's Magazine, xxxiii. 171 et seq.). Written by Colonel or Brigadier General Draper (suggester, contriver and performer of the Enterprise; an excellent Indian Officer, of great merit with his pen as well,—Bully JUNIUS'S Correspondent afterwards).] but the Manilla Ransom; a million sterling, half of it in bills,—which the Spaniards, on no pretext at all but the disagreeableness, refused to pay! Havana, though victorious, cost a good many men: was thought to be but badly managed. "What to do with it?" said Bute, at the Peace: "Give us Florida in lieu of it",—which proved of little benefit to Bute. Enough, enough of Bute and his performances.
Pitt being gone, Friedrich's English Subsidy lags: this time Friedrich concludes it is cut off;—silent on the subject; no words will express one's thoughts on it. Not till April 9th has poor Mitchell the sad errand of announcing formally That such are our pressures, Portuguese War and other, we cannot afford it farther. Answered by I know not what kind of glance from Friedrich; answered, I find, by words few or none from the forsaken King: "Good; that too was wanting," thought the proud soul: "Keep your coin, since you so need it; I have still copper, and my sword!" The alloy this Year became as 3 to 1:—what other remedy?
From the same cause, I doubt not, this Year, for the first time in human memory, came that complete abeyance of the Gift-moneys (DOUCEUR-GELDER), which are become a standing expectation, quasi-right, and necessary item of support to every Prussian Officer, from a Lieutenant upwards: not a word, in the least official, said of them this Year; still less a penny of them actually forthcoming to a wornout expectant Army. One of the greatest sins charged upon Friedrich by Prussian or Prussian-Military public opinion: not to be excused at all;—Prussian-Military and even Prussian-Civil opinion having a strange persuasion that this King has boundless supply of money, and only out of perversity refuses it for objects of moment. In the Army as elsewhere much has gone awry; [See Mollendorf's two or three LETTERS (Preuss, iv. 407-411).] many rivets loose after such a climbing of the Alps as there has been, through dense and rare.
It will surprise everybody that Friedrich, with his copper and other resources, actually raised his additional 60,000; and has for himself 70,000 to recover Schweidnitz, and bring Silesia to its old state; 40,000 for Prince Henri and Saxony, with a 10,000 of margin for Sweden and accidental sundries. This is strange, but it is true. [Stenzel, v. 297, 286; Tempelhof, vi. 2, 10, 63.] And has not been done without strivings and contrivings, hard requisitions on the places liable; and has involved not a little of severity and difficulty,—especially a great deal of haggling with the collecting parties, or at least with Prince Henri, who presides in Saxony, and is apt to complain and mourn over the undoable, rather than proceed to do it. The King's Correspondence with Henri, this Winter, is curious enough; like a Dialogue between Hope on its feet, and Despair taking to its bed. "You know there are Two Doctors in MOLIERE," says Friedrich to him once; "a Doctor TANT-MIEUX (So much the Better) and a Doctor TANT-PIS (So much the Worse): these two cannot be expected to agree!"—Instead of infinite arithmetical details, here is part of a Letter of Friedrich's to D'Argens; and a Passage, one of many, with Prince Henri;—which command a view into the interior that concerns us.
THE KING TO D'ARGENS (at Berlin).
"BRESLAU, 18th January, 1762.
... "You have lifted the political veil which covered horrors and perfidies meditated and ready to burst out [Bute's dismal procedures, I believe; who is ravenous for Peace, and would fain force Friedrich along with him on terms altogether disgraceful and inadmissible [See D'Argens's Letter (to which this is Answer), OEuvres de Frederic, xix. 281, 282.]: you judge correctly of the whole situation I am in, of the abysses which surround me; and, as I see by what you say, of the kind of hope that still remains to me. It will not be till the month of February [Turks, probably, and Tartar Khan; great things coming then!] that we can speak of that; and that is the term I contemplate for deciding whether I shall hold to CATO [Cato,—and the little Glass Tube I have!] or to CAESAR'S COMMENTARIES," and the best fight one can make.
"The School of patience I am at is hard, long-continued, cruel, nay barbarous. I have not been able to escape my lot: all that human foresight could suggest has been employed, and nothing has succeeded. If Fortune continues to pursue me, doubtless I shall sink; it is only she that can extricate me from the situation I am in. I escape out of it by looking at the Universe on the great scale, like an observer from some distant Planet; all then seems to me so infinitely small, and I could almost pity my enemies for giving themselves such trouble about so very little. What would become of us without philosophy, without this reasonable contempt of things frivolous, transient and fugitive, about which the greedy and ambitious make such a pother, fancying them to be solid! This is to become wise by stripes, you will tell me; well, if one do become wise, what matters it how?—I read a great deal; I devour my Books, and that brings me useful alleviation. But for my Books, I think hypochondria would have had me in bedlam before now. In fine, dear Marquis, we live in troublous times and in desperate situations:—I have all the properties of a Stage-Hero; always in danger, always on the point of perishing. One must hope the conclusion will come; and if the end of the piece be lucky, we will forget the rest. Patience then, MON CHER, till February 20th [By which time, what far other veritable star-of-day will have risen on me!]. ADIEU, MON CHER.—F." [OEuvres de Frederic, xix. 282, 283.]