GOETHE'S CAMPAIGN IN FRANCE.

THE insignificance of action in the campaign of 1792, and the splen- dour of subsequent achievements under the Republic and the Empire, have rendered the Duke of Brunswick's invasion of France and his re- treat after the cannonade of Valmy less conspicuous than their real im- portance merits. Independently of the great skill and activity displayed by Dumourier, it was the turning-point of the French Revolution; the first occasion on which it encountered the combined Monarchs of Europe in arms, and impressed them with a true idea of its power. Till then, statesmen and generals, and even men of genius, considered that the new "citizens" of France must be "put down" by regular troops ; and the failure was attributed to treachery or corruption. "Do you understand," writes Gibbon from Lausanne to Lord Sheffield, "this most unexpected failure ? I will allow an ample share to the badness of the roads and the weather, to famine and disease, to the skill of Dumourier, a heaven- born general, and to the enthusiastic ardour of the new Romans ; but still there must be some secret and shameful cause at the bottom of this strange retreat." The only secret was the superiority of young and ar- dent spirit over effete formalism.

At the age of forty-three, after having been comfortably settled for years at the court of his patron the Duke of Weimar, Goethe joined the expedition which was to drive back the French shopkeepers into their towns by the sound of the drum, occupy Paris after a progress rather than a march, rescue Louis, put down the Revolution, and replace the old rhgime. At starting, Goethe entertained some of the hopes which the presumption of the Emigrants had infused into the mind of the King of Prussia, though occasionally dashed by doubts of the uncertain future. The perception of the philosopher and the poet, with the military criti- cisms of his companions, soon opened Goethe's eyes to the mistake of the expedition, and to the exaggerated representations of the French noblesse about the feelings of the French bourgeois and of Jacques-bonhornme. At the close of the resultless cannonade of Valmy, he was the first to prophesy the historical result of that day's failure and the triumph of the

French Revolution : perhaps he was the only mail in the army capable of perceiving the full consequences.

" Thus the day had passed away: the French stood immoveable, Kellermanu having taken also a more advantageous position. Our • people were withdrawn out of the fire, and it was exactly as if nothing had taken place. The greatest consternation was diffused among the army. That very morning they had thought of nothing short of spitting the whole of the French and devouring them; nay, I myself had been tempted to take part in this dangerous expedition from the un- bounded confidence I felt in such an army and in the Duke of Brunswick: but now every one went about alone; nobody looked at his neighbour; or if it did happen, it was to curse or to swear. Just as night was coming on, we had ac- cidentally formed ourselves into a circle, in the middle of which the usual fire even could not be kindled: most of them were silent, some spoke, and in fact the power of reflection and judgment was awanting to all. At last I was called upon to say what I thought of it; for I had been in the habit of enlivening and amus- ing the troop with short sayings. This time I said, 'From this place and from this day forth commences a new mixt in the world's history; and you can all say that you were present at its birth.'"

Upon the strategy and tactics of the campaign Goethe throws no par- ticular light. The delay in occupying the main passes of the Forest of Argonne, and thus allowing Dumourier to seize them and delay the march of the Allies, was an obvious fault ; perhaps the only fault of the campaign, judged by the old and cautious system of warfare. At the same time, had the more lively ideas of the Emigrants and the King of Prussia been adopted by the Duke of Brunswick, it would have been a riskful if not a rash attempt to march only 80,000 men upon Paris, leav- ing large divisions of French troops in the rear and on the Hanks, and meet- ing a levy en masse from the capital and its environs. The repulse at Valmy cost some thousand men ; but the army retired leisurely and in order, losing nothing except from sickness, brought on by bad diet and the rains. Had the Duke of Brunswick failed on the road to Paris, or before the capital, most probably destruction would have overwhelmed the Prussian army.

But though Goethe has added nothing to military knowledge, he gives a very good idea of a campaign as it appears to an individual of the great mass ; the digressions by which he varies his narrative' exhibiting the trains of thought excited by accidental circumstances and pursued with the zeal of a German philosopher, are curious as traits of autobiography, if they have no great interest. in themselves. The presumptuous confi- dence of the Emigrants in the outset, the foolish insolence with which they conducted themselves in Germany, more like masters than suppliants, their attention to their personal appearance during the retreat, (exhibit- ive, however, of care and patience,) and the forms of precedence they still adhered to when everything else was perishing, are painted with a cold truthfulness, neither satirical nor sentimental, but conveying an un- coloured idea of the reality. The scanty fare, the hardship arising from the weather and exposure to it, though very opposite to the sensual poet's conception of living, are borne patiently if not cheerfully, and present, by numerous sketches and anecdotes, a good picture of campaigning life as it appears when undergone for the first time. War upon a grand scale there was not; but it is probable that no persons save general officers and their staff ever have an opportunity of seeing or could comprehend a battle as a whole. To men confined to their ranks, or even like Goethe with the power of moving about, a battle seems isolated firing, and very inferior to the imagination of it, or even to its description, when the ends sought with the means of effecting them are distinctly brought before the mind and the movement of masses are narrated and the deeds of indivi- duals described. The psychological effects of danger are investigated by Goethe in a manner analogous to the opening of Faust; the devasta- tion and misery of war are described with the perception of a civilian ; though the hard necessity of getting shelter and something to eat, coupled with a native selfishness of character, induced Goethe to look with more toleration on military doings than he might have done had he been less interested in the case. The actual information in the book is not very great; but the work has much interest as an account by an eye-witness of a remarkable historical event, and a description of war by a more enlarged and penetrating mind than is often employed upon the subject. The possibility that similar scenes may yet occur again before Europe settles down into quiet, gives an additional interest to the volume.

Although there is no absolute novelty attached to the topic, the pic- ture of the Emigrants is one of the most remarkable things in the book. Prosperity prevented the exhibition from occurring before in that particu- lar form; the destruction of the old noblesse as a class renders it impos- sible that it can be repeated. Here is a singular mixture of adaptability, gallantry, folly, loyalty, and endurance, taken from different points of view—the commencement, the campaign, the retreat.

"I was unable to indulge long in this agreeable and fruitful train of thought; for close at hand, in Grevenmachern, a spechicle of most modern description awaited me. I found here the corps of Emigrants, consisting entirely of noble- men, mostly Knights of St. Louis. They had neither servants nor grooms but acted as their own servants, and groomed their own horses. Many a one grooms, seen leading the horses to drink, and holding them when they were shod. But the most singular contrast to this humble kind of occupation was presented by a crowd of vehicles and travelling carriages of all kinds collected on a meadow. They had arrived at the same time with their wives and sweethearts, children and relations, as if they wanted to make a display of the utter incongruity of their present condition.

"We had, however, to experience a still stranger reproach. On our return to our first quarters we found a distinguished Emigrant formerly known to us. He

was saluted kindly, i and did not despise our frugal meal: but some inward com- motion was visible n him; he had evidently something on his heart, of which he sought to rid himself by means of exclamations. When we, for old acquaintance- ship's sake, tried to inspire him with some confidence in us, he complained bitterly of the cruelty which the King of Prussia inflicted on the French Princes. Start- led, almost confounded by this, we demanded some further explanation. Then we learnt that the King had, on leaving Glorieux, in spite of the drenching rain, put on no greatcoat, had wrapped no cloak about him, and consequently the Royal Princes had also been obliged to deny themselves these weather-proof garments. Our Marquis, however, could not behold these illustrious persons lightly clad, wet through and through and dripping with rain, without the greatest distress: in- deed, if it would have served, he would have laid down his life to see them riding

in a dry carriage—they, upon whom rested the hopes and happiness of the whole country, who were accustomed to a quite different way of life. " We had indeed nothing to reply to this; for the reflection would have been no consolation to him, that war, as a foretaste of death, makes all men equal, abolishes all property, and threatens even the most exalted persons with pain and danger..

" Thus I found myself, after the lapse of four weeks, certainly many miles dis- tant from the theatre of our first misfortunes, but again in the same company, in the same crowd of Emigrants; who DOW, driven finally out of France, were stream- ing into Germany with ruined prospects and in utter despair.

" At dinner in the inn, having arrived rather late, I sat at the end of the long table: the host and hostess, who had already expressed to me, as a German, their aversion to the French, apologized for all the best places being already occupied by these unwelcome guests. It was observed, that in spite of their degradation, misery, and impending begginy, the same jealousy was still to be found amongst them about precedence and rank.

"On looking up the table, I perceived, quite at the top, just opposite to me, in the first place, a little old well-formed man, of quiet, almost insignificant deport- ment. He must have been of high rank, for two persons who sat near him were bestowing the greatest attention upon him, and picked out the choicest bits to put before him; and you might almost have said that they carried them to his mouth. I soon perceived that Ile was in his dotage, and, as a deplorable automaton, was dragging miserably about the world the shadow of his former substantial and honourable life, whilst his two devoted attendants were trying to recall a dream, as it were, of his former condition to him. "I surveyed the rest of them: the mournfullest destiny was legible on the brows of all. Soldiers, commissaries, adventurers, perhaps to be distinguished from each other: all were silent; for each had his own particular calamity to en- dure, and boundless misery stared them in the face.

"When the dinner was about half over, a young good-looking man came in, without anything distinguished in his appearance, or decoration of any kind, bearing unmistakeable marks of being a traveller on foot. Ile sat down in silence opposite to me, after civilly asking a cover from the landlord, and ate quietly and unostentatiously what was placed before him. After dinner, I went up to the landlord; who whispered into my ear, Your neighbour shall not be charged much in his bill.' I did not understand what he meant by this; but when the young man approached and demanded what he had to pay, the host replied, after looking hastily over the table, that the bill was a kopfstiick. The stranger seemed surprised, and said, that must surely be a mistake, for he bad not only bad a good dinner but also a pint of wine; that must amount to more. The landlord replied quite seriously, that he was in the habit of making out his own bills; and the guests paid down willingly what he demanded. The young man now paid it, and retired modestly and in astonishment. But the landlord imme-

diately solved the mystery to me. This is the first of these cursed people,' he exclaimed, 'who has eaten black bread; and he deserved something for that." [Goethe, on his entrance into France, was surprised at the goodness of the bread. A distaste to the black bread of Germany on the part of common people seemed to argue luxury, and to mark the national distinction.] The following extracts give an idea of the pleasures of campaigning in bad weather. It should, however, be borne in mind, that it was by accident that the sufferings of Goethe reached this point : as his patron the Duke of Weimar travelled with a kitchen-carriage, it was only when separated from the ducal commissariat in the confusion of the retreat that our poet had to fare as a soldier.

"Tents, carriages, and horses, then we had; but food for no living thing. With the rain falling, we were in want even of water; and some of the ponds were polluted by the bodies of dead horses which had fallen into them. All this together made the situation most frightful. I could not understand what he meant, when I saw my faithful pupil, servant, and companion, Paul Goze, very busily baling out the water collected on the leather covering of the travelling carriage: he confessed that it was intended for the chocolate, a supply of which he had luckily brought along with him. In fact, I have seen some persons scoop- ing out the water from the horses' footmarks to quench their burning thirst. Bread was bought from the old soldiers, who were accustomed to fasting, and had laid by some, in order to cheer themselves with brandy, if again to be had.

"Since the arrival of the equipage the quartets of the Duke of Weimar were much improved; for we had to acknowledge that the chamberlain and cook, and other household officials, had never been without provisions, and even during the greatest scarcity had always supplied us with some kind of warm food. Fortified by it, I went to ride about the country, in order to get some acquaintance with it; but without success: those flat hills possessed no striking characteristics, one object was undistinguishable from another. To ascertain, however, where- abouts I was, I searched for the long avenue of tall poplars which had struck as so much the day before; and not finding it, I thought I had wandered far out of my way; but on closer examination I found it had been cut down, carried away, and was, no doubt, already burnt. " The places within the cannon's range presented a horrible aspect. Men were lying unburied, and beasts writhing in pain, and unable to die. I saw one horse whose fore-feet had become entangled in its own entrails projecting from its body, and limping about in this shocking fashion.

"In riding home, I met Prince Lauis Ferdinand in the open field, sitting upon a wooden chair, which had been brought up from a village in the plain; at the same time some of his people were dragging along a kitchen cupboard, containing, they asserted, something that rattled in it, and they were in hopes of having captured a rich prize. They broke it open eagerly; but found only a thick cookery-book; and now, when the shattered cupboard was blazing in the fire, they read aloud the precious cookery receipts, which so excited their imagina- tions, that hunger and desire were again raised to the pitch of desperation."

A good map of the Forest of Argonne, and a plan of Mentz, at Which Biege Goethe assisted, illustrate the volume, and usefully explain the text.