LETTER LVIII.

Brunswick.

We have had some masquerade balls here of late.—The Court do not go in procession to these as at Cassel.—Those who chuse to attend, go separately when they find it convenient.

There is a gallery in the masquerade room for the reigning family, where they sometimes sit without masks, and amuse themselves by looking at the dancers. But in general they go masked, and mix in an easy and familiar manner with the company.

I am not surprised that the Germans, especially those of high rank, are fond of masquerades, being so much harassed with ceremony and form, and cramped by the distance which birth throws between people who may have a mutual regard for each other. I imagine they are glad to seize every opportunity of assuming the mask and domino, that they may taste the pleasures of familiar conversation and social mirth.—— In company with the D—— of H——, I once had the honour of dining at the house of a general officer. His sister did the honours of the table; and on the Duke’s expressing his surprise that he never had seen her at court, he was told she could not possibly appear there, because she was not noble. This lady, however, was visited at home by the Sovereign, and every family of distinction, all of whom regretted, that the established custom of their country deprived the court of a person whose character they valued so highly.

The General’s rank in the army was a sufficient passport for him, but was of no service to his sister; for this etiquette is observed very rigidly with respect to the natives of Germany, though it is greatly relaxed to strangers, particularly the English, who they imagine have less regard for birth and title than any other nation.

Public diversions of every kind are now over for some time, and the Court is at present very thin.—Duke Ferdinand resides in the country. The Hereditary Prince went a few days since to Halberstadt, where he will remain at least a month, to prepare the garrison, and his own regiment in particular, for the grand reviews which are soon to take place. Diligence in duty, and application to the disciplining of the forces, are indispensable in this service. Without these, not all the King’s partiality to this Prince, or his consanguinity, could secure to him his uncle’s favour for one day, personal talents and vigorous exertion being the sole means of acquiring and retaining the favour of this steady and discerning monarch.

The Hereditary Princess has left Brunswick, and is gone to Zell, and will remain during the absence of her husband with her sister the Queen of Denmark.

The young Prince, Leopold, has also left the Court. He goes directly to Vienna, and it is thought he intends to offer his services to the Emperor. If proper encouragement be given, he will go entirely into the Austrian service. In this case, he will probably, when a war happens, find himself in opposition to his two brothers; a circumstance not much regarded in Germany, where brothers go into different services, with as little hesitation as into different regiments with us.

The strictest friendship has always subsisted between this young man and his sister, who has been crying almost without intermission since he went away.

His mother bears this with more composure, yet her uneasiness is easily perceived. Independent of the absence of her son, she is distressed at the idea of his going into a service, where he may be obliged to act in opposition to her brother, for whom I find she has the greatest affection, as well as the highest admiration.

I was not surprised to hear her speak of him as the greatest man alive; but she extends her eulogium to the qualities of his heart, in which she is not joined by the opinion of all the world.—She, however, dwells particularly on this, calling him the worthiest of men, the firmest friend, and the kindest of brothers:—and as she founds her opinion on her own experience alone, she has the greatest reason to think as she does; for, by every account, the King has always behaved with high regard and undeviating tenderness to her.

The departure of Prince Leopold has revived this Princess’s affliction for the untimely fate of two of her sons. One died in the Russian camp at the end of the campaign of 1769, in which he had served with great distinction as a volunteer; the other was killed in a skirmish towards the end of the last war; having received a shot in his throat, he died of the wound fifteen days after, much regretted by the army, who had formed a high idea of the rising merit of this gallant youth.

He wrote a letter to his mother in the morning of the day on which he died. In this letter he regrets, that he should be stopped so soon in the course of honour, and laments that he had not been killed in some memorable action, which would have saved his name from oblivion, or in achieving something worthy of the martial spirit of his family. He expresses satisfaction, however, that his memory would at least be dear to some friends, and that he was certain of living in his mother’s affections while she should exist. He then declares his gratitude to her for all her care and tenderness, and concludes with these expressions, which I translate as near as I can remember—I wished the Dutchess to repeat them; but it was with difficulty, and eyes overflowing, that she pronounced them once:—“My eyes grow dim—I can see no longer—happy to have employed their last light in expressing my duty to my mother.”