Island;"_ [Stille,
_Campaigns,_ p. 14.] where they make themselves so comfortable, says
Friedrich, there is no getting them roused to do anything for three days
to come. And yet the work is urgent, and plenty of it. "Iglau, first of
all," urges Friedrich, "where the Austrians, 10,000 or so, under Prince
Lobkowitz, have posted themselves [right flank of that long straggle of
Winter Cantonments, which goes leftwards to Budweis and farther], and
made Magazines: possession of Iglau is the foundation-stone of our
affairs. And if we would have Iglau WITH the Magazines and not without,
surely there is not a moment to be wasted!" In vain; the Saxon Bastard
Princes feel themselves very comfortable. It was Sunday the 11th of
February, when our junction with them was completed: and, instead of
next morning early, it is Wednesday afternoon before Prince Dietrich
of Anhalt-Dessau, with the Saxon and French party roused to join his
Prussians and him, can at last take the road for Iglau. Prince Dietrich
makes now the reverse of delay; marches all night, "bivouacs in woods
near Iglau," warming himself at stick-fires till the day break; takes
Iglau by merely marching into it and scattering 2,000 Pandours, so soon
as day has broken; but finds the Magazines not there. Lobkowitz carted
off what he could, then burnt "Seventeen Barns yesterday;" and is
himself off towards Budweis Head-quarters and the Bohemian bogs again.
This comes of lodging Saxon royal gentlemen too well.

THE SAXONS THINK IGLAU ENOUGH; THE FRENCH GO HOME.

Nay, Iglau taken, the affair grows worse than ever. Our Saxons now
declare that they understand their orders to be completed; that their
Court did not mean them to march farther, but only to hold by Iglau,
a solid footing in Moravia, which will suffice for the present. Fancy
Friedrich; fancy Valori, and the cracks he will have to fill! Friedrich,
in astonishment and indignation, sends a messenger to Dresden: "Would
the Polish Majesty BE 'King of Moravia,' then, or not be?" Remonstrances
at Budischau rise higher and higher; Valori, to prevent total explosion,
flies over once, in the dead of the night, to deal with Rutowsky and
Brothers. Rutowsky himself seems partly persuadable, though dreadfully
ill of rheumatism. They rouse Comte Maurice; and Valori, by this
Comte's caprices, is driven out of patience. "He talked with a flippant
sophistry, almost with an insolence" says Valori; "nay, at last, he made
me a gestu