A couple of years ago I bought a little notebook through the mail from Berlin. It has marbled covers, and inside, written in gothic longhand, is the story of the plot to kidnap Frederick, purportedly by the very man who foiled it, Mathias Kappel. The manuscript shows obvious signs of great age, and may very well be authentic, or else a near-contemporary copy. However, the story inside is certainly genuine enough. In his biography of Frederick the Great, Carlyle has given some snippets of Kappel's own account. Although his version is very much abridged and brutally translated, the resemblance is unmistakable.

As far as I know, the story has never been printed at full length in English. Since Editor Bill thinks it may interest you, here it is.

The History of Warkotsch's Treason

as told by Huntsman Mathias Kappel

I, Matthias2 Kappel, was born on January 15, 1726, in the Kingdom of Bohemia, on the estates of Baron Wracislaus of Mitrowitz. In 1755 I entered the service of the Baron von Warkotsch as a huntsman at Olmutz in Moravia, where he was serving at the time as a captain in the Regiment of the Marquis von Potta.

In 1756 I marched out of Olmutz with him, as the war with the King of Prussia had started But my old lord and I did not get any farther than Konigsgratz, since we received word that his only brother, who was a chamberlain of theKing of Prussia, had died at Karlsbad. As my lord had become the sole heir of his late brother's estates in Silesia, he was forced to quit the campaign and seek his dismissal from the Empress Maria Theresa. Therefore, he rode with me to Vienna and, after having obtained his discharge, we arrived at the aforementioned estate of Schonbrunn in Silesia on September 15, 1756.

As soon as the Baron became acquainted with the Prussian administration and found that it did not allow him to deal with his vassals as he had wanted to, he conceived an implacable hatred towards the King of Prussia. He said more than once, and with the bitterest expressions, that when the Austrians had conquered he would put the farmers in yokes, and was sure that he would then be a great lord in this country, and that he would make a new man out of me.

To this end, the Baron decided to seize the first opportunity to deliver the King of Prussia up to the Austrians. But the opportunity never presented itself until November 8, 1761, when the King, coming from Neustadt behind Neisze, arrived at Schonbrunn Castle towards evening and accepted quarters for the night, that from the Baron, with the intention of resuming his march at 4 o'clock luck the next morning. At 12 midnight the King requested to speak with the Baron, who repaired at once to the King's bedroom.

The King asked him, "Do you not have some person upon whom you can repose your trust?" The Baron answered, "Although I'm not sure for what purpose Your Majesty wants him, my huntsman is an honest fellow I'm sure, true to me in all respects."

The King told the Baron to call me, since he wanted to speak to me. My lord called me at once, that I should go up to the King in his room. When I entered the King's chamber I found him sitting fully dressed in an armchair next to the fire on the hearth.

The King asked me, "Are you the Baron's huntsman?"

I answered, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Could you show me the way from here to Strehlen even though it's so dark?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," I replied, "if you would only tell me which path to take, since there are two roads from here to Strehlen." "Across Riegersdorf, through the royal manor-farm of Melter, and Toppendorf." This was the footpath to Strehlen.

I was to be ready with a good riding-horse in front of the castle at 4 o'clock. I told my lord what the King wanted. To this end I needed a good mount, so I asked my lord for one. I was answered that I should take the very best.

At 4 o'clock I stood before the castle when the King came out punctually accompanied by the Baron. The King's horse, a small gray, was already there, as were the King's groom, his private chamberlain Leining, one of the King's adjutants, and two mounted Jagers who had lighted lanterns. The King ordered the Jagers to go ahead on foot, while he and the rest of us followed on foot. It was dark, and the entire army had been moving onto our estates during the night.

The King went on foot for a whole half a league, observing how the regiments had marched up, but without ever saying a word, until right at the end where the cannons were still being driven up in full movement. Here the King said, "Up, up, you lads! We have to march!"

A cannonier, who did not know it was the King, answered, "The devil can march, we're going into camp first." But the King did not reply. He proceeded a bit farther on foot, and then ordered the lanterns to be extinguished. He then mounted his horse, and told us to do the same. He then told me to ride no more than five paces ahead of him, so that he could see me (it was still very dark). Not far from the estate of Kascherei, where there was a water-mill, the King asked me if I had not missed the bridge that was built over the river hereabouts. He then ordered us to ride right down the middle without making a noise.

As the day began to dawn, we stood before Strehlen in Toppendorf. The King asked, "What place is that?" I answered that it was the estate of Toppendorf. He asked me further where the Kahlenberg lay. "It must be to the left of Strehlen, not far from the mountains. Bring me there."

When we came to the hill it was still not fully daylight, so we made a halt until the sun was up. The King then called his groom and told him to bring his telescope. After gazing about for a long time, the King said, "I don't see any Austrians." Thereupon he turned to me, "Do you know the road to Breslau?"

"There are two roads from Strehlen to Breslau," I answered, "One through Grossburg and one through Schweinbraten--the King should order which path he prefers."

"Not through Strehlen, but rather go back leaving Strehlen on the left side to where there is a fulling-mill to the right of Strehlen. There, there must be a bridge across the water. You must bring me there so that we can get over the river."

We rode straight across the field behind Strehlen towards the road, until we reached the path to Grossburg. There the King called his private chamberlain, and told him to give me some beer-money. I received four 8-groschen pieces and this speech: "Tell your lord that the King tenders his thanks for the fine lodgings, and assures him of the royal favour."

I rode back on my way. After riding for a league, I met the entire Prussian army in full march. As soon as they caught sight of me, I was suddenly surrounded by generals and officers, only two of whom I recognized--General Krusemark and General Treskow from Neisse. They immediately questioned me as to where I came from and where I was going. I answered, "I am the huntsman of Baron Warkotsch of Schonbrunn, and I rode out early this morning at 4 o'clock with the King, and have just left him behind Strehlen on the Breslau road."

General Krusemark replied, "The devil only knows where we'll have to go today." So then I continued on my way.

The next day my lord learned that the King had stopped at Strehlen and that his whole army had made camp on the nearby heights of Galgenberg. The Austrians stood behind the mountains between Munsterberg and the Cloister of Heinrichau. They had intended to take post at Strehlen, but the King had gotten there first.

The third day I rode to Strehlen with my lord to see how the Ring and his army had been posted. Strehlen was occupied by one regiment, and the King had occupied a little house in the suburbs on the side near the mountains, which was guarded by only 13 men of his Guards. There were no other soldiers in the suburb, because there were few houses there. For this reason there were also few officers quartered thereabouts.

The Baron now began to take action. Every second day I had to ride with him to the headquarters, and often the Baron had the honour of paying his respects to the King. After the King had been at Strehlen for eight days, I had to take a letter (which my lord had sealed without any address) to the Catholic clergyman at Siebenhufen, Curate Schmidt, to whom I delivered it personally.

The Curate brought the reply to this letter to my lord and he put it in his hands himself. Although I did not yet know what this anonymous correspondence was about, I was already suspicious about it, since I had to bring a letter to Schmidt every week. Finally I had to bring the letters to General Wallis myself between Munsterberg and the Cloister of Heinrichau, on the excuse that my lord wanted to buy some Hungarian wine from General Wallis. However, I never received a written reply from the latter, only the verbal message: "Everything will be provided." Schmidt had to bring all the written replies to my lord, and, if he was not at home, he would wait as long as it took him to return.

Finally, on the 28th of November I went to the headquarters at Strehlen with my lord. I waited until 12 o'clock at night while my lord visited several gentlemen of the army, the last of which was Privy-Councillor Eichel, whom he visited for two hours. I had to wait so long with the horses in front of Eichel's quarters that I could finally stand the cold no longer. Moreover, I was not allowed to make any noise, since the house stood very near to where the King was.

At last my lord came out and called to me to bring the horses. We rode away behind the King's quarters, across the bridge, past the fulling-mill, and then past a village where Zastrow's Dragoons were posted. My lord said to me, "Have you noticed how poorly the King of Prussia is protected in his royal quarters, with only about 13 men of his Guards? No Austrian general would stand as exposed as the King does. If the Austrians knew about this, they could come to snatch him away and capture him without any difficulties."

"Who's going to tell it to the Austrians?" I replied.

"Do you think, then, that the Austrians don't have any spies?" "Even if they do have spies, they won't get the Ring if God does not will it so."

"You mustn't be so simple as to think that God concerns himself about the King. Anyway, such matters are reserved for great lords to ponder on."

"But you shouldn't talk so loudly about it! Someone near us, like a patrol or sentry, might hear us, and then we'd be unlucky!"

"You should ride next to me, so that I won't have to talk so loud."

This I had to obey. My lord then continued, "I want to convince you. How many times have we ridden to the headquarters at night without ever seeing a patrol or sentry on the hills? It's very cold, and they are all in their quarters, without the slightest fear that the Austrians will come to attack them."

At 2 o'clock in the morning we arrived at Schonbrunn. My lord told me, "Go to sleep--you've had to freeze yourself enough already today." When I stepped into my room, my wife said to me, "Don't go to bed yet, you still have to give a letter from Curate Schmidt to the Baron. The Baron must have it today, no matter how late it is."

Once again it was a letter without any inscription that my wife gave me, as she said, "What could it mean that there's nothing written on the letter? Besides that, Schmidt was with the Baroness a whole half a day until late in the evening, so why couldn't he have given the letter to her? What's more, the Curate said to me that if you too came home late at night, I was to give the letter only to you, and you'd take care of it--a great deal depends on it."

I took the letter up to my lord in his bedroom, without knowing that the Baroness was still awake. I found her sitting with him, and I gave the letter to the Baron with some compliments from Schmidt. At this the Baroness became quite angry because Schmidt had been with her half the day and had not given her the letter. The Baron ordered her to go to her own bedroom and go to sleep--she had nothing to do with his correspondence. I was told to go to sleep, too.

Half an hour later, the Baron came to my door and called me to come out to him. In his hands he had a light and a letter, which he gave me with these directions: "You must get up early at 4 in the morning and take this letter to the usual place right away."

Immediately I asked, "Should I wait for an answer?" to which he replied, "It isn't necessary."

I then asked for permission to go to church on the way back from Schmidt's, since the Catholics were just then celebrating St. Andrew's Day. I was given permission. I waited two more hours until I thought my lord was asleep, and then I removed the envelope from the letter and read the following:

My dear General von Wallis!

This is to inform you that yesterday, being the 28th of November, I was at the headquarters of the wise Ring, and can give you accurate news thereof. The Ring has let most of the regiments march off to their winter quarters at Breslau imperceptably. The artillery and the war chest have also left already. For his own person, it is certain that the King will not follow until Wednesday the 30th. His carriage is standing ready at his door. The time is come--try your luck! You musn't let the bird fly away while he's still sitting in the cage.

You have nothing to risk, only leave Toppendorf to the right hand side, as there are some of Zastrow's Dragoons there. About half a league to the left there are a few advanced posts of Foot Jagers. You can break into the Ring's quarters through the garden at the back where there is a bridge across the river. The Ring has only 13 men of his guards with him, who are posted on the right-hand side as you enter the house.

Warkotsch.

When I had read the letter, an awful feeling of horror fell over me, and I felt oppressed to find myself in a situation where I could confide in no-one--not even my wife. Finally, through an inspiration which must have come from a higher Hand, I managed to bethink myself of a Protestant preacher in our village named Gerlach, whom I was not allowed to associate with because my lord was an inveterate enemy of his.

I begged a favour of this man; I wished to tell him of a secret matter which concerned the King of Prussia, and, if his sentiments agreed with mine, would he write out a copy of this letter? He was prepared to do this, but first I had to tell him what I intended to do with it. I told him the truth--that I would bring the Baron's letter to the King, and would have the copy sent to General Wallis. The Parson carried out my request, with many wishes that I would succeed fortunately with my plan.

I sent the copy to General Wallis by means of my apprentice-lad, after first having sealed it with the Baron's seal. I also told the lad that when he got home, if the Baron should ask him where he had been, not to tell him anything because I was supposed to have taken the letter myself. I did this to allay any suspicions on the part of the Baron.

Thus, I brought the original letter to my King at Strehlen at 8 o'clock in the morning of November 29th. When I arrived (I had borrowed a horse on the way in order to get there more quickly), I found the King's carriage standing in front of his door. I tied my horse to the carriage and went straight into the King's quarters. I wanted to go right into the room where the King was, but I was stopped by his bodyguard, who said, "It isn't so easy to walk right in on the King."

I said to the sentry, "I must speak to the King this instant. I have something very important to give him." I was answered, "The officer of the watch is in the next room. Report to him, and perhaps he will announce you to the King."

This fellow gave me the same answer: "I am indeed the officer of the watch, but I'm not here to announce people to the King--especially not raggedy-looking ones like you!" He told me to go directly across the street, where I would find General-Adjutant von Krusemark, and report to him.

I said, "I have an opened letter which the King must have at once. If you don't want to believe me, you can read it yourself and see how much depends on it."

I received the answer: "I am not allowed to read any letters intended for the King." I had to go to see General Krusemark, and the officer sent a soldier after me to see what I was up to.

The general let me appear before him immediately. I handed him the letter, and explained all the circumstances connected with it. While I was speaking, he dressed himself hastily. He advised me not to let myself be seen at the window, since I was very well known at Strehlen. Then he locked me in his room until he or someone else came back to fetch me.

After a quarter of an hour, an officer unlocked the room and told me to come with him right away to see the King. He had brought a blue roquelor and a feathered hat with him. I had to wrap the cloak around me and clap the hat on my head, leaving my own laced hat behind in the General's room. In this matter I was led around back through the garden to see the King.

Except for General von Krusemark, the King was alone. The King stepped close in front of me and asked, "Do you know what I have done to deserve this from your lord?" I answered, "All I know is that my lord has often mentioned to me that he was dissatisfied with the Prussian administration because it does not allow him to treat his vassals the way he wants to."

The King then asked me to tell him all the relevant facts I knew. I told him everything about how long the correspondence had been going on, and the events of last night. The King listened in silence until I had finished, and then asked me, "How long have you served the Baron?"

"Eight years," I said.

"You mustn't serve him any longer," said the King, "Where are you from?"

"From Bohemia."

"And whereabouts?"

"Mitrowitz, near Kollin, on the lands of Count von Wratislaus."

"I know the area," answered the Ring, and then he stepped up to me abruptly and asked, "So you are probably a Catholic?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," I replied. "And your lord is Lutheran?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Then the Ring said, "See, huntsman, there are both honest men and knaves in all religions. Your actions are not your own; rather, you are certainly the instrument sent to me by a higher Power, through no fault of yours. For your assistance I shall see that you are well raised up in the world."

I said, "I regret very much that my lord behaved so badly against his Ring."

The King ordered the General to have me taken away, and he then ordered me not to speak to anybody until I received permission to do otherwise. I received quarters, and my arrest as well, among the mounted Jager-Corps. The next day I was taken into Strehlen where I had an audience with the Ring, and immediately afterwards I was transported to Breslau by the Guards.

The Ring made arrangements to capture the Baron and Curate Schmidt at once because there was no time to lose. As I had arrived at the royal quarters at 5 o'clock in the morning (on November 24, 1761) the Baron and Schmidt had to be arrested by 12 noon, because I could not have remained away any longer before the Baron would begin to form suspicions that I had been captured on my way by Prussian troops, who my have discovered my purpose.

So His Majesty took the measure himself of sending out Captain von Rabenau of Zastrow's Dragoon Regiment with 100 men to capture the Baron and the aforementioned Curate Schmidt. The Captain was ordered to send his swiftest rider back to report that the arrest had been made as soon as he had the Baron in his hands. He was arrested at 12 o'clock while sitting at his table, but one hour later the Baron escaped through his cunning, which the Captain was forced to report to the King. In just the same manner, Curate Schmidt managed to get away.

None of this might have happened if my own suggestions had been followed. For, when during my first conversation with the King, I had heard him say that the Baron must be arrested, I was so bold as to request that I might be allowed to capture him myself. To this end he only had to give me six reliable men whose way of thinking agreed with mine, and I would be sure to bring back both the Baron and Curate Schmidt by 12 noon.

But I received the reply, "You should be happy that you're here with us. For you can be sure that if your expedition failed and you fell into the hands of the Austrians, they'd boil you in oil. Certainly we want to get the Baron and Schmidt, but it would be better if we kept you somewhere where you'll be safe."

And indeed I did remain under arrest until the end of the trial, which lasted for three months, and had to appear daily as a witness before the court-martial. During this time no one was allowed to know where I was, nor was I permitted to travel anywhere. Finally, the Baron's letter to General Wallis was laid before me again. I had to read it through, and then testify under oath that it was the same letter that I had brought to the Ring, and that I wished to say no more or no less about it. During this time a letter that the Baron had tried to send his wife in the mail was intercepted and brought into the trial, which read as follows:

My Child!

The damned scheme which I formed against my King has cast me into the deepest misfortune, and even if I climbed the highest mountain I would not be able to get over it. Live well. I am to be found on the outermost border of Turkey.

Warkotsch.

The letter was written in Warkotsch's own hand, which was proven by a comparison with the letter I had brought over. I took this occasion to say to Gerlach, a counsel of the exchequor who was defending the Baron, and had given me all sorts of trouble, that the Baron had admitted himself to be guilty. After three months the criminals were executed in effigy at the Salt Ring in Breslau, and I was sent to Berlin on March 15, 1762.

In regard to the arrest and escape of Baron Warkotsch, I later learned the following details from my wife who was an eyewitness of them, as she was not brought to the headquarters until November 30th. Captain von Rabenau of Zastrow's Dragoon Regiment, who had been assigned to carry out the arrest with 100 men, found the Baron at 12 o'clock noon on November 29, 1761, sitting at his table in Schonbrunn Castle wearing a dressing gown, and informed him that he was under arrest.

But the Baron got away in the following manner: he showed the Captain a royal order demanding that a large quantity of fourage, or its cash equivalent, should be delivered to the army; failure to comply would result in arrest. With this order the Baron sought to blind him and persuade the Captain to deal more indulgently with him. The Captain let himself be moved by the solicitations of the Baron, and the Baroness, too.

The Baron was permitted a little time to dress himself and order his carriage to be harnessed, and then come right back. The carriage was in fact driven up in front of the castle immediately, where the Captain could see it through the window. But in the meantime the Baron had let his best English horse be saddled, with the intention of riding him through the garden and down the valley. But as soon as he mounted, he became aware that the whole castle garden was full of dragoons. He dismounted and went back into the castle to the Captain, to whom he said quite boldly, "I see, Herr Captain, that you have had my entire castle surrounded. You need not worry about me escaping--I wouldn't risk losing all my lands and property. I know that your men don't have much money and that everything is overpriced in your camp, so may I be permitted to buy them something to eat and drink?"

Captain von Rabenau liked this idea, so he ordered the NCO who commanded the detachment guarding the entrance-way to the castle to call in all the posts to get some refreshments.

Accordingly, the whole commando trooped off to a nearby inn, which cleared the way for the Baron's flight. As soon as the posts had left, the Baron drank a toast of 'Bon Voyage' to the Captain, and then took some money right before his eyes, went to his bedroom, through the castle to the stables where a groom was holding his saddled horse, and then went out through the garden.

After about 15 minutes the Captain began to miss the Baron, and asked the Baroness, "Where is the Herr Baron?"

"He just went down to the stables," she answered. To this a servant added, "My lord got on a horse and rode away." The Captain raised the alarm, and the commando had to remount and chase after the Baron. But the Baron had too much of a head start, and he had ridden directly towards the mountains which were only half a league away.

Thus the Captain had to send another rider to the Ring to report that the Baron had gotten away. The King sent out another commando to arrest the Captain, and also to bring the Baroness along, although she knew nothing about the whole black affair. Nevertheless, she remained under arrest until the end of the trial, while Captain von Rabenau was taken to Brieg. I don't know whether he is still alive.

After the Baron had departed and the Baroness had been arrested, all the servants fled from Schonbrunn Castle for fear of the Baron. Only my wife remained behind with our two small children, and she locked herself in securely. At 12 o'clock at night on the 29th of November, 1761, the Baron came back with 300 Austrian hussars, to whom my wife had to reopen the castle.

As the Baron entered, he asked, "Where is my wife?"

"She was arrested after the Herr Baron escaped," answered my wife.

"Do you know where your husband is?"

"If the Herr Baron doesn't know, I don't either."

"God be with him! Do you have all the keys? Is all the money still in the castle?"

"Yes."

"Get me my fur coat and some clothes; I'll get the money myself." There was certainly enough of this in his writing cabinet--at least 30,000 Thalers, all in gold, as well as many jewels. The hussars were allowed to take some money, too. The Baron handed out several bagfuls and told them to divide it among themselves. The Baron also wanted to take away two caskets full of gold which stood in his bedroom. But since all the servants had run off, he could not get a wagon hitched up, and the Austrian officer did not want to stay any longer. He had to drag the Baron out of the castle by the arm, since they were not safe from the Prussians.

But before he left he ordered my wife, "When the servants return have the two caskets sent to the Cloister of Heinrichau at daybreak." But this did not happen; rather, my wife reported these events to General von Krusemark and asked him what she was to do.

When the Ring heard the news he had my wife and the money taken away on November 30th. As to the Baroness, when she had been found innocent, she asked for the return of her dowery, which amounted to the sum of 20,000 Guldens according to the marriage documents. These 20,000 Guldens were loaned at interest to Count Sandretzky zu Langenbiel(au). She could collect the interest at Breslau, but the Ring held on to the principal. Two years later, namely 1764, I heard that she had asked the Ring for permission to travel to Landekkerbad. This was allowed, but once she arrived, she slipped away secretly. She was born a Baroness of Hoffern, of the House of Dunkelspiel. I do not know what became of her afterwards.

A non-commissioned officer of Captain von Rabenau's commando was detached with 12 men to capture Curate Schmidt at Siebenhufen, but they did not find him at home. They asked his cook where he was, and she replied that he was a guest of the Lord of Nimptsch at Nimptsch. The NCO found him there eating at the table, and told him he was under arrest, at which Schmidt was very startled. But he was not as quick of wit as the Baron.

Finally, he asked the Lord of Nimptsch to lend him a horse, since he could not run along on foot with the dragoons. The lord had a horse saddled right away, and as Schmidt was being led away, he asked for permission to visit the privy before he left. The NCO did not want to allow this at first, even though Lord von Nimptsch assured him that Schmidt could not escape. Finally the unwitting Lord van Nimptsch formally pledged to be held answerable for Schmdit, so the NCO relented and allowed Schmidt to absent himself for a while. The latter really went to the privy, but finding a pole there, he clambered down and saved himself through flight.

The NCO became impatient when he did not see Schmdit reappear, and went over to the privy himself. Finding his prisoner gone, he grabbed the Lord of Nimptsch by the arm, set him on the horse that had been prepared for Schmdit, and took him away to Strehlen. Here he was held under heavy arrest until his innocence was established by my testimony that he neither knew nor had spoken to the Baron, much less maintained a correspondence with him. Thus, after incurring many personal expenses, he was freed at the end of the Warkotsch Trial.

Twice I had to ask the King to bring in Parson Gerlach, who had copied my letter, for his own safety. This man would have fallen into a dangerous situation if General Wallis had shown the letter brought to him to Baron Warkotsch, who was quite familiar with the Parson's handwriting. The King had him brought to Breslau, where he stayed with me until March, 1762, when I obtained my present job. I later heard that he was given a good parsonage in the neighbourhood of Brieg.

For my own part, I was sent to Berlin on March 13, 1762 (as I mentioned before) to receive the graciously conferred post of Chief Gamekeeper at Germendorf, near Oranienburg. However, I lacked the money to make this journey. The little that I had brought with me from Schonbrunn had been used up during my three-month stay at Strehlen and Breslau. I had received nothing more from the King than my huntsman's salary of eight Thalers a month. I confided my needs to the worthy General von Krusemark, who informed the King of them. The King thereupon wrote the following Cabinet Order, which I brought myself to Minister von Schlaberndorf:

My dear Minister of State!

I herewith order you to draw out a substantial douceur for Huntsman Kappel from the Warkotsch fortunes, so that he may perform his journey and establish himself in his new occupation.

I am your well-affectioned King, Breslau, March 14, 1762.

Frederick.

The minister handed me back the Cabinet Order and said, "You should ask the King to write down the exact sum, since I can be held responsible if I pay you too much or too little." I took this answer back to General Krusemark, who told me to depart at once, and he would look after eveything. He added, "I can't disturb the King again just now in the night, since he has a very bad case of the gout."

But before I left, this worthy General, who did not have much himself, sent me 100 Thalers of his own money. Without this, I would have had to beg my way to my new post.

After peace was declared in 1763, I wrote another request to the King, asking that the money I had left behind in Silesia should be repaid to me. The King thereupon issued the following Cabinet Order:

My dear Minister of State von Schlaberndorf!

Of the several memorials, you are to look over the attached one of Under-Forester Kappel, and help him obtain that which he demands from the confiscated estates and properties of Warkotsch without delay.

I am your well-affectioned King, Potsdam, May 16, 1763.

Frederick.

And indeed, this money was paid out to me, without any deductions, soon after. Also, when my house burned down nine years ago, the King was gracious enough to give me a gift of 3,900 Thalers to have it rebuilt. I am now living contentedly on a moderate income, and I thank God that he has delivered me from such great dangers.

On my recommendation the King gave Huntsman Bemelt (who brought the oft-mentioned letter to General Wallis instead of mine) a small forester's position at Bromberg in West Prussia.

Cermendorf, January 6th, 1791. Mathias Kappel.

Notes

Carlyle says the whole story was printed in the original German in Kuster's "Lebens-Rettungen," which I have not seen. If any reader has this book, I would appreciate it if he would tell me whether Kuster mentions his source.

Kappel spells his name two different ways, but seems to prefer only one "l."

Kappel is called a gentlemen's groom by Carlyle, but he always refers to himself as a "Jager." It must be remembered that one of the main functions of the German military Jagers was to act as couriers and, as will be seen, Kappel's main function at the Warkotsch household seems to have been as a messenger. Since he later entered the Prussian forestry service, he must have had some skill in woodcraft. But, in any case, he was not merely a valet. Thoughout these articles I have translated Jager, when used in a civilian sense, as huntsman; Jager, when used in a military sense, I have left unchanged; Heegemeister as gamekeeper; and Forster as forester.

Heinrich Gottlob von Warkotsch was then about 50 years old. By nature and habit he was imperious, irascible and hard. Above the necessity of controlling his temperament because of his great wealth, he was inclined to treat his vassals with arbitrary despotism. He thought fondly on the conditions in Austria that he had come to know during his long military service there, where he had been able to exercise almost unlimited power over his underlings, which agreed very well with his own tastes. In contrast to this, he felt with bitter anger the restrictions imposed by the Prussian state on his estates, for by an express order of Frederick the administration had severly limited the despotic power of the landed gentry over their vassals. This aroused and inflamed his dissatisfaction with the Prussian government, and filled him with hate against the King as the author of these restrictive measures--from Prof. Joseph Kutsen's "Bilder aus dem 7-Jahrigen Krieg."

"halbe Meile" which Carlyle says is about two miles. The German mile was much longer than the English, so I have rendered it as "league" throughout.

0f the road? The text is not very clear here.

About three shillings sterling, according to Carlyle.

At this time Frederick had made his headquarters in the little village of Woiselwitz very near Strehlen, where he lived in the neat, solid, one-storied house belonging to Building-Inspector Bruckkampf of Strehlen. This house (after being carefully preserved for many years, burned down on June 25, 1834) had a garden behind it, beyond which lay extensive fields. The King's bedroom was level with the ground, and its window faced southwards, where the little Ohlau River (about ten paces broad here) flowed past. Nearby, a bridge had been struck across the river. One sentry stood before the house, and two more in front of the King's room, while the remaining ten men of the 13 Guard-Grenadiers who formed the royal bodyguard were posted in a well-built bakehouse belonging to this house, which stood in the garden--from Kutzen.

A small body of resolute cavalry were to penetrate, in the night, into the suburbs of Strehlen ... to which they were immediately to set fire; and during the confusion that this must necesarily occasion, to endeavour to seize and carry off the King of Prussia--from the Annual Register, 1761.

The cloak or overcoat worn by the Prussian cavalry. In one of his novels, Sir Walter Scott mentions a type of cloak called a "Rokelay" which may be the closest equivalent in English.

The main square of the city. It was later called the Blucher-Platz. What the Poles or Russians now choose to call it, I neither know nor care.

Buchenholtz says there was a secret staircase hidden behind a panel in the Baron's bedroom, by which means he was able to run back and forth to the stables unperceived.

After a short arrest [Captain] von Rabenau was acquitted by a court martial, but given a stern reprimand. The King, however, was slow to forget his negligence on this occasion, and it was many years before the unfortunate captain could obtain a promotion to the rank of major--from Kutzen.

The Baroness probably joined her husband in Raab, Hungary, where he died in 1769 (from Carlyle.)

"Heimliches Gemach" in the original--a delicate euphemism, for which I think "privy" is an adequate translation. I find the story of this escape less than clear, but I am no expert on such matters before the advent of internal plumbing.

M. Lange's Note:

Substantial differences in this story are to be found in the version given by the historian Archenholtz, who says that Kappel was in on the conspiracy from the beginning. He states that Warkotsch read all his treasonous letters to him aloud, and asked his opinion, after which Kappel sealed the envelopes. Having gone to bed hungry and cold on the night of November 28th, Kappel was so incensed at not being able to get any sleep either that he took the letter to Gerlach, not from any motive of patriotism or religion, but purely out of spite to the Baron. Had it not been for the exhortations of the good Parson, Kappel would never have gone to the Prussian headquarters.

From the manner in which the character of Kappel has been played down, and the role of Gerlach played up, I strongly suspect that Archenholtz must have gotten the story from Gerlach himself, or one of his relatives. There seems to be an air of sour grapes here over Gerlach not receiving any money for his part in foiling the plot, particularly where it saps "he remained unrewarded, and died in poverty."

One circumstance tends to support the Archenholtz version. After Gerlach copied the letter, Rappel admits that he "sealed it with the Baron's seal." Now, how did he come by this article? Carlyle, Kugler and Kutzen all said that before Rappel left the castle that morning, he crept into another room and stole the seal. But in the manuscript before me, there is no mention of such a theft. Instead, is there not here the silent implication that Rappel always had the seal in his pocket, as Archenholtz saps? On the other hand, it may simply be an omission on the part of Kappel.

But the two versions are not irreconcilable. Personally, I do not think that Kappel was such an angel as he protrays himself to be, and he was probably not quite such a reprobate as Archenholtz has painted. In any case, I hope this article has given the readers a better understanding of what must be the most devious incident of the Seven Years War.

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