I rejoiced when, beyond Lowositz(1) in Bohemia, I came upon the plains, and now hoped to find a considerable degree of prosperity and culture, since the soil all around seemed extraordinarily fertile.
But my expectation was sadly disappointed. The villages lay thin and were poor — even more so than in the mountains. They threshed in the manor-yards on many threshing-floors, and the peasant houses were empty and run down; the inhabitants moved about so oppressed, as if they still bore the hardest yoke of slavery.
It seems to me they have been little improved by Joseph’s benevolent intentions,(2) and it is most likely that here they are pressed by corvée labour(3) more heavily than anywhere else. Where slavery is systematic, the towns often form the appendage of the great and lesser nobility and share in the plunder. That seemed to be the case here.
All was in fear as the French approached;(4) only the peasants shouted with joy and said they would welcome them gladly and would then make their oppressors pay.
Whether the countryman was right in his view of the French is another question: but in his joy during the terrible crisis of the fatherland there lay a profound sense that deserved to be heeded, and which perhaps hastened peace more than the lost battles.
Our well-meaning friends here put us in fear, warning that robbers and murderers prowl about the neighbourhood. Our friends might well refrain from that; for we must go on.
In Leutmeritz(5) there are said to be over a hundred, and in Prague not many fewer.(6) The breaking up of military corps is always attended by such evils, as is commonly the case with our institutions.
I march forward boldly and put some trust in a good, heavy knotted cudgel,(7) with which I can strike smartly and even thrust a few inches into a man’s ribs.
Friend Schnorr(8) will do his part as well; and so it would take three well-armed, resolute fellows to attack us. We do not look as if we carry much with us, nor, indeed, as if we would give up the little we do carry so easily.