Equally peremptory and equally successful was Frederick’s verdict for his own claims in a dispute with the Bishop of Liège with regard to Herstal, a tiny barony lying on the Meuse to the westward of Aix-la-Chapelle. The inhabitants had resisted the officers of his father, who would gladly have sold Herstal to Liège, and the Bishop, who wished to buy but could not come to terms, had egged them on. Frederick, scorning the advice of his ministers, resolved to use his strength as a giant. From Wesel he sent the following ultimatum to the Bishop: “Cousin! Knowing all the attacks that you have made upon my unquestionable rights over my free barony of Herstal, and how the seditious men of Herstal have been supported for some years in their detestable disobedience to me, I have ordered my privy-councillor Rambonnet to visit you on my behalf, to demand from you in my name a sincere and categorical explanation within the space of two days, whether you wish to protect the mutineers of Herstal in their abominable disorder and disobedience. In case you refuse, or delay that just reply which I demand of right, you will render yourself solely responsible before all the world for the consequences which your refusal will inevitably bring after it. I am, etc.” “This is strong, this is lively,” cried the ambassadors at Berlin when they read it; “it is the language of Louis XIV.; it is a beginning which shows what we must expect some day from this prince.” Their prophecy was to be fulfilled sooner than they anticipated. In the meantime the new diplomacy won another triumph. The Bishop made no reply to the ultimatum and in a week’s time the Prussians, sowing apologies broadcast over Europe, seized his county of Hoorn. The apologies concluded with the assertion: “His Majesty will never put from him a just and reasonable arrangement with the said prince, as the sole end which his justice and moderation have in view in this affair, these two invariable principles being the pole-star of all his actions.” The “just and reasonable arrangement” proved to be the payment of two hundred thousand thalers to the King. Frederick could therefore congratulate himself that within five months of his accession he had taught both Prussia and Europe that he was stronger than his father. It was clear that he was resolved not to be hoodwinked by man or woman. He had rejected the advice of his cautious ministers with the pleasantry that when they spoke of war they resembled an Iroquois talking of astronomy. The event had gone far towards silencing the taunt of Europe that “the Prussians never shoot,” and towards establishing the truth of Frederick’s well-known simile, “The Emperor is an old phantom of an idol and has no longer any nerves.”