long since. Old Wartensleben writes to Friedrich Wilhelm; his
mournful Letter, and Friedrich Wilhelm's mournful but inexorable
answer, can be read in the Histories; but show only what we
already know.

Katte's Mother, Fieldmarshal Wartensleben's Daughter, died in
1706; leaving Katte only two years old. He is now twenty-six;
very young for such grave issues; and his fate is certainly very
hard. Poor young soul, he did not resist farther, or quarrel with
the inevitable and inexorable. He listened to Chaplain Muller of
the Gens-d'Armes; admitted profoundly, after his fashion, that the
great God was just, and the poor Katte sinful, foolish, only to be
saved by miracle of mercy; and piously prepared himself to die on
these terms. There are three Letters of his to his Grandfather,
which can still be read, one of them in Wilhelmina's Book,
[Wilhelmina, i. 302.] the sound of it like that of dirges borne on
the wind, Wilhelmina evidently pities Katte very tenderly; in her
heart she has a fine royal-maiden kind of feeling to the poor
youth. He did heartily repent and submit; left with Chaplain
Muller a Paper of pious considerations, admonishing the Prince to
submit. These are Katte's last employments in his prison at
Berlin, after sentence had gone forth.


KATTE'S END, 6th NOVEMBER, 1780.

On Sunday evening, 6th November, it is intimated to him,
unexpectedly at the moment, that he has to go to Custrin, and
there die;--carriage now waiting at the gate. Katte masters the
sudden flurry; signifies that all is ready, then; and so, under
charge of his old Major and two brother Officers, who, and
Chaplain Muller, are in the carriage with him, a troop of his own
old Cavalry Regiment escorting, he leaves Berlin (rather on sudden
summons); drives all night, towards Custrin and immediate death.
Words of sympathy were not wanting, to which Katte answered
cheerily; grim faces wore a cloud of sorrow for the poor youth
that night. Chaplain Muller's exhortations were fervent and
continual; and, from time to time, there were heard, hoarsely
melodious through the damp darkness and the noise of wheels,
snatches of "devotional singing," led by Muller.

It was in the gray of the winter morning, 6th November, 1730, that
Katte arrived in Custrin garrison. He took kind leave of Major and
men: Adieu, my brothers; good be with you evermore!--And, about
nine o'clock he is on the road towards the Rampart of the Castle,
where a scaffold stands. Katte wore, by order, a brown dress
exactly like the Prince's; the Prince is already brought down into
a lower room to see Katte as he passes (to "see Katte die," had
been the royal order; but they smuggled that into abeyance);
and Katte knows he shall see him. Faithful Muller was in the
death-car along with Katte: and he had adjoined to himself one
Besserer, the Chaplain of the Garrison, in this sad function,
since arriving. Here is a glimpse from Besserer, which we may take
as better than nothing:--

"His (Katte's) eyes were mostly directed to God; and we (Muller
and I), on our part, strove to hold his heart up heavenwards, by
presenting the examples of those who had died in the Lord,--as of
God's Son himself, and Stephen, and the Thief on the Cross,--till,
under such discoursing, we approached the Castle. Here, after long
wistful looking about, he did get sight of his beloved Jonathan,"
Royal Highness the Crown-Prince, "at a window in the Castle;
from whom he, with the politest and most tender expression, spoken
in French, took leave, with no little emotion of sorrow." [Letter
to Katte's Father (Extract, in Preuss, <italic> Friedrich mit
Freunden und Verwandten, <end italic> p. 7).]

President Munchow and the Commandant were with the Prince;
whose emotions one may fancy; but not describe. Seldom did any
Prince or man stand in such a predicament. Vain to say, and again
say: "In the name of God, I ask you, stop the execution till I
write to the King!" Impossible that; as easily stop the course of
the stars. And so here Katte comes; cheerful loyalty still beaming
on his face, death now nigh. "PARDONNEZ-MOI, MON CHER KATTE!"
cried Priedrich in a tone: Pardon me, dear Katte; oh, that this
should be what I have done for you!--"Death is sweet for a Prince
I love so well," said Katte, "LA MORT EST DOUCE POUR UN SI AIMABLE
PRINCE;" [Wilhelmina, i. 307; Preuss, i. 45.] and fared on,--round
some angle of the Fortress, it appears; not in sight of Friedrich;
who sank into a faint, and had seen his last glimpse of Katte in
this world.

The body lay all day upon the scaffold, by royal order; and was
buried at night obscurely in the common churchyard; friends, in
silence, took mark of the place against better times,--and Katte's
dust now lies elsewhere, among that of his own kindred.

"Never was such a transaction before or since, in Modern History,"
cries the angry reader: "cruel, like the grinding of human hearts
under millstones, like--" Or indeed like the doings of the gods,
which are cruel, though not that alone? This is what, after much
sorting and sifting, I could get to know about the definite facts
of it. Commentary, not likely to be very final at this epoch, the
reader himself shall supply at discretion.



END OF BOOK 7





End of Project Gutenberg's Etext History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 7

