general.' Two pears, after that long shaking of
the tree; both pears rotten, or indeed falling into Seckendorf, who is
a basket of such quality! 'Seckendorf, increased in this munificent
manner, can he still do nothing?' cry the French: 'the old traitor!'--'I
have no magazines,' said Seckendorf, 'nothing to live upon, to shoot
with; no money!' And it is a mutual crescendo between the 'perfidious
Seckendorf' and them; without work done. In the Nurnberg Country, some
Hussars of his picked up Lord Holderness, an English Ambassador making
for Venice by that bad route. 'Prisoner, are not you?' But they did not
use him ill; on consideration, the Heads of Imperial Departments gave
him a Pass, and he continued his Venetian Journey (result of it zero)
without farther molestation that I heard of. [Adelung, iv. 222.]

"These French-Seckendorf cunctations, recriminations and drenched-hen
procedures are an endless sorrow to poor Kaiser Karl; who at length
can stand it no longer; but resolves, since at least Bavaria, though
moneyless and in ruins, is his, he will in person go thither; confident
that there will be victual and equipment discoverable for self and Army
were he there. Remonstrances avail not: 'Ask me to die with honor, ask
me not to lie rotting here;' [Ib. iv. 241.]--and quits Frankfurt, and
the Reich's-Diet and its babble, 17th October, 1744 (small sorrow, were
it for the last time),--and enters his Munchen in the course of a week.
[17th October, 1744, leaves Frankfurt; arrives in Munchen 23d (Adelung,
iv. 241-244).] Munchen is transported with joy to see the Legitimate
Sovereign again; and blazes into illuminations,--forgetful who caused
its past wretchednesses, hoping only all wretchedness is now ended.
Let ruined huts, and Cham and the burnt Towns, rebuild themselves; the
wasted hedges make up their gaps again: here is the King come home!
Here, sure enough, is an unfortunate Kaiser of the Holy Romish Reich,
who can once more hope to pay his milk-scores, being a loved Kurfurst of
Bavaria at least. Very dear to the hearts of these poor people;--and
to their purses, interests and skins, has not he in another sense been
dear? What a price the ambitions and cracked phantasms of that weak
brain have cost the seemingly innocent population! Population harried,
hungered down, dragged off to perish in Italian Wars; a Country burnt,
tribulated, torn to ruin, under the harrow of Fate and ruffian Trenck
and Company. Britannic Geor