Such was the King’s mood when his friend, the ambassador of England, laid before him with delight the contents of as considerate a despatch as was ever penned in Whitehall. Sympathy for Kolin, approval of the new plan of campaign, “entire reliance upon the King of Prussia’s great military abilities,” a cheerful review of the forces still at his disposal—all this might be expected from the ministers of George II. But what followed might well have heaped coals of fire upon Frederick’s head. His ally, little suspecting the overtures to the Pompadour, persisted in treating him as a man of honour.
“The hint his Prussian Majesty threw out to you, of an inclination to peace, is agreeable to the language that Prince has held from the very beginning of the present troubles in Germany.... The King will at all times be glad to contribute to a general pacification, whenever equitable conditions can be had for himself, the King of Prussia, and their allies ... the King being determined to take no steps in an affair of this consequence without his Prussian Majesty’s concurrence and approbation.”
Then follow solid offers of co-operation with ships and above all with gold, the latter “only meant as the convenient and proper contingent of England to her allies.”
Frederick, by Mitchell’s account, received the message
“with a flow of gratitude not to be described. After a short pause, he said, ‘I am deeply sensible of the King’s and your nation’s generosity, but I do not wish to be a burden to my allies; I would have you delay answering this letter till affairs are ended in Lusatia; if I succeed, I will then consult with you upon the different points suggested in the letter and give my opinion freely upon them. If I am beat, there will be no occasion to answer it at all; it will be out of your power to save me, and I would not willingly abuse the generosity of my allies by drawing them into unnecessary and expensive engagements that can answer no valuable purpose.’ I was pleased, but not surprised,” the report continues, “with the noble dignity of this answer, for I have seen the King of Prussia great in prosperity but greater still in adversity.”
There was, however, little of dignity or greatness in the King’s treatment of his unlucky brother and heir, whom he met on the road to Bautzen two days later. It was in the early hours of the morning, according to the narrative of an eye-witness, the son of one of the chief delinquents, that Augustus William saw the King and beside him Winterfeldt and Goltz, two of his own generals, for whom he had waited a full hour in vain. Each of the royal brothers rode at the head of his staff, and in Frederick’s train were Prince Henry and Ferdinand of Brunswick. At a distance of about three hundred paces the King stopped. Augustus William did the like, and he and his party doffed hats. The King’s party bowed to them, but Frederick turned his horse round, dismounted, and lay down upon the ground as though awaiting his vanguard. He made Winterfeldt and Goltz sit by him. All his officers dismounted, as did the Prince and his party. Soon Goltz crossed over to the Prince and said a few words to him, whereupon the Prince called his officers together and requested him to repeat the King’s message in their presence. This he did in the following words: