ONE:Under these circumstances, the young queen, urged by her council and by the English court, very reluctantly consented to propose terms of compromise to Frederick. Sir Thomas Robinson, subsequently Earl of Grantham, was sent from Vienna to Breslau to confer with the British minister there, Lord Hyndford, and with him to visit Frederick, at his camp at Strehlen, in the attempt to adjust the difficulties. The curious interview which ensued has been minutely described by Sir Thomas Robinson. It took place under the royal canvas tent of his Prussian majesty at 11 oclock A.M. of the 7th of August, 1741.It is said that one day, as Frederick was contemplating the royal burying-ground, not far from the spot which he had selected for his rural villa, he said to a companion by his side, in reference to his own burial, Oui, alors je serais sans souci. Yes, then I shall be free from care. From that remark the villa took its name. Frederick adopted it, and inscribed it in golden letters on the lintel. He appropriated to his private use three apartmentsan audience-room, a library, and a small alcove for a bedroom. In this alcove, scarcely larger than a closet, he slept, in soldier style, upon an iron bed, without curtains. An old slouched hat, softened by wear, served him for a night-cap. His library was a beautiful room, very richly furnished. There were377 terrible war-clouds still sweeping over various parts of Europe, but their lightning flashes and their thunder roar disturbed not the repose of Frederick in his elevated retreat.
THREE:
THREE:Write to me when you have nothing better to do. And dont forget a poor philosopher who, perhaps to expiate his incredulity, is doomed to find his purgatory in this world.The unsuccessfulest negotiation well imaginable by a public man. Strehlen, Monday, 7th August, 1741Frederick has vanished into the interior of his tent, and the two diplomatic gentlemen, the wind struck out of them in this manner, remain gazing at one another. Here, truly, is a young, royal gentleman that knows his own mind, while so many do not. Unspeakable imbroglio of negotiations, mostly insane, welters over all the earth; the Belleisles, the Aulic Councils, the British Georges, heaping coil upon coil; and here, notably in that now so extremely sordid murk of wiggeries, inane diplomacies, and solemn deliriums, dark now and obsolete to all creatures, steps forth one little human figure, with something of sanity in it, like a star, like a gleam of steel, sheering asunder your big balloons, and letting out their diplomatic hydrogen. Salutes with his hat, Gentlemen, gentlemen, it is of no use! and vanishes into the interior of his tent.
THREE:As the secretary, Podewils, had been taking notes, Lord Hyndford requested permission to look at them, that he might see that no mistake had been made. The king assented, and then Lord Hyndford bowed himself out. Thus ended the audience.