Hannah Lightfoot there is, of course, a large amount of conflicting opinion, and it depends entirely on the truth of this wedding-day elopement, whether Charlotte was a wife at all, or a queen at all. If the carrying off had taken place before the wedding ceremony with the young quaker, Hannah Lightfoot would have been de jure and de facto queen of England. It would appear that George III. laid up for himself troubles of the deepest dye by this marriage—troubles affecting the happiness of his favourite daughter, and, probably, the leading cause of his own insanity. Into these, as of a distant date, we enter not here; but we may surmise that these circumstances, not less than the scandalous conduct of his brother, the duke of Cumberland, led him to pass the royal marriage act, forbidding the marriage of any member of the royal family with a subject, except with the express consent of the sovereign.
The earl of Harcourt was dispatched to Strelitz to demand the hand of the princess. He was followed by the duchesses of Hamilton and Ancaster, and lady Effingham, to attend upon her during her journey. Lord Harcourt was received, as may be supposed, with overwhelming courtesy at Strelitz, being always attended by a body-guard, as the representative of England, of which the princess was about to be queen. On the 8th of September Charlotte arrived at St. James's, and that afternoon the marriage took place, the ceremony being performed by the archbishop of Canterbury. The next day the royal couple held a crowded drawing-room and ball, in which the queen was reported to have conducted herself extremely well. On the 22nd the coronation took place with the greatest splendour; and it is noted, not only as a sign of the popularity of the sovereigns, but of the advancing wealth of the country, that the platform from St. Margaret's roundhouse to the abbey door, which at George II.'s coronation let for forty pounds, now let for two thousand four hundred pounds. There was one remarkable spectator of this scene, whose feelings must have been strange; the man—who, had his family ruled wisely, should have there been crowned himself—was Charles Stuart.
We must now step back a little to observe the war on the continent from the opening of the present campaign. Frederick of Prussia lay encamped during the winter in Silesia, surrounded by difficulties and enemies. His resources of both money and men appeared well nigh exhausted. The end of autumn, 1760, brought him the news of the death of George II., and, from what he could learn of the disposition of his successor and his chief advisers, it was certain that peace would be attempted by England. This depressing intelligence was confirmed in December by the English parliament indeed voting again his usual subsidy, but reluctantly, and he found it paid with still more reluctance and delay. "Whilst thus menaced with the total loss of the funds by which he carried on the war, he saw, as the spring approached, the Russians and Austrians advancing against him with more than double his own forces. He had not fifty thousand men, whilst Butterlin, the Russian general, commanded sixty thousand, and Laudohn, the Austrian, seventy thousand. Prince Henry was menaced in Saxony by marshal Daun, and another Russian army, in Pomerania, was marching to the siege of Colberg.
Under these circumstances, Frederick endeavoured to prevent the junction of the Russians under Butterlin and the Austrians under Laudohn. He boldly threw himself betwixt these two armies, and for a long time defeated their attempts at a junction. At length, on the 12th of August, his enemies accomplished their union near Striegau, in spite of him. There appeared now no other prospect but that they would completely surround him. But, with great address, Frederick threw himself into the fortified camp of Bunzelwitz, under the guns of Schweidnitz, where he had a strong garrison. This camp was defended by a chain of formidable works, four-and-twenty terrible batteries, with mines, deep ditches, and chevaux-de-frise. The allies attempted to blockade him there and starve him out; but he obtained corn from the depots in Schweidnitz, whilst the country round, being laid waste, the enemy themselves were assailed by famine. They were daily in expectation of abundance of provisions from Poland in five thousand wagons; but Frederick had dispatched a flying column, under general Platen, to intercept these, which he did effectually, besides destroying three of their largest magazines on the Polish frontiers. At this news the allies quitted their blockade of the Prussian king. Butterlin returned into Pomerania, and Laudohn to the neighbourhood of Freiburg. At the end of September Frederick quitted his strong camp, and marched towards Upper Silesia, but Laudohn instantly advanced into the vacated position. Instead of taking Laudohn in the rear, as he intended, Frederick now saw that general execute the boldest manœuvre of the whole war. In the night of the 1st of October, which was extremely dark, he led his troops silently against the walls of Schweidnitz. General Zastrow that night was giving a ball to his officers. The usual precautions were relaxed, and Laudohn, rushing into the covered way, killed the sentinels, scaled the outworks, waded the fosse, and mounted the city walls before the alarm was given. The garrison, four thousand strong, rushed to the defence, and fought bravely; but they were overpowered, and, before daybreak, the Austrians were in full possession of this the great fortress of Silesia, which it had cost the Prussians months of blockade and hard fighting to subdue.
This was a stunning blow to Frederick, but he affected to bear it philosophically, whilst the gallant Laudohn was rather censured than applauded by his own court for his exploit. He had undertaken the daring enterprise without consulting the empress or the Aulie council, and the absurd etiquette of Austria was highly offended by it. It required the better sense of the emperor to prevent a formal censure being passed on the hero.
The capture of Schweidnitz enabled the Austrians to winter, in Silesia, which they had never yet done during the war; and the Russians under Butterlin also found, to their great satisfaction, on arriving in Pomerania, that they could winter in Colberg. The Russian division under Romanzow had besieged Colberg both by land and sea, and, spite of the attempts of the Prussians under Platen and Knobloch, sent by Frederick to relieve it, it had been compelled to surrender. Under these discouraging circumstances Frederick took up his winter quarters at Breslau. His affairs never wore a darker aspect. He was out-generaled and more discomfited this campaign than by a great battle. His enemies
