Proverbially fickle are the fortunes of war.  Joseph commenced the siege of Belgrade with high hopes.  He was ignominiously defeated, and his troops were driven, utterly routed, into Hungary, pursued by the Turks, who spread ruin and devastation widely around them.  Disaster followed disaster.  Disease entered the Austrian ranks, and the proud army melted away.  The emperor himself, with about forty thousand men, was nearly surrounded by the enemy.  He attempted a retreat by night.  A false alarm threw the troops into confusion and terror.  The soldiers, in their bewilderment fired upon each other, and an awful scene of tumult ensued.  The emperor, on horseback, endeavored to rally the fugitives, but he was swept away by the crowd, and in the midnight darkness was separated from his suite.  Four thousand men perished in this defeat, and much of the baggage and several guns were lost.  The emperor reproached his aides-de-camp with having deserted him.  One of them sarcastically replied,

“We used our utmost endeavors to keep up with your imperial majesty, but our horses were not so fleet as yours.”

Seventy thousand Austrians perished in this one campaign.  The next year, 1789, was, however, as prosperous as this had been adverse.  The Turks at Rimnik were routed with enormous slaughter, and their whole camp, with all its treasures, fell into the hands of the victors.  Belgrade was fiercely assailed and was soon compelled to capitulate.  But Joseph was now upon his dying bed.  The tidings of these successes revived him for a few hours, and leaving his sick chamber he was conveyed to the church of St. Stephen, where thanksgivings were offered to God.  A festival of three days in Vienna gave expression to the public rejoicing.

England was now alarmed in view of the rapid strides of Austria and Russia, and the cabinet of St. James formed a coalition with Holland and Prussia to assist the Turks.  France, now in the midst of her revolutionary struggle, could take no part in these foreign questions.  These successes were, however, but a momentary gleam of sunshine which penetrated the chamber of the dying monarch.  Griefs innumerable clustered around him.  The inhabitants of the Netherlands rose in successful rebellion and threw off the Austrian yoke.  Prussia was making immense preparations for the invasion of Austria.  The Hungarians were rising and demanding emancipation from the court of Vienna.  These calamities crushed the emperor.  He moaned, and wept and died.  In his last hours he found much solace in religious observances, devoutly receiving the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, and passing much of his time in prayer.  He died on the 20th of February, 1790, in the forty-ninth year of his age, and the tenth of his reign.