DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER.
The Castle at Reinsberg.--Slender Purses of Fritz and Wilhelmina.--
Liberality of Fritz.--The Ball at Monbijou.--Adventures of Fritz
and Wilhelmina.--Letters.--The Interview.--Anecdote of the King.--
Wilhelmina’s Account of her Brother.--Mental and Physical Maladies
of the King.--Frederick’s cruel Neglect of his Wife.--Daily Habits
of the young Prince.--The shameful Carousal.
About six miles from Ruppin there was the village of Reinsberg,
containing about one thousand inhabitants, clustered around an ancient
dilapidated castle. Frederick was with his regiment in Ruppin. The
Princess Royal, his wife, resided in Berlin. There was an ostensible
reason for this separation in the fact that there was no suitable
mansion for the royal couple at Ruppin. The castle, with its extensive
grounds, belonged to a French refugee. The king purchased it, and
assigned it to his son. As the whole estate was in a condition of
extreme dilapidation, Frederick immediately commenced improvements and
repairs. The building, the gardens, the forests, and the surrounding
lands rapidly assumed a new aspect, until Reinsberg became one of the
most attractive spots in Europe.
The situation of the castle was admirable. A beautiful sheet of water
bathed its walls on one side, while a dense forest of oaks and beeches
rose like an amphitheatre upon the other. The whole edifice assumed
the form of a square, with two towers connected by a double colonnade,
richly ornamented with vases and statuary. Over the majestic portal
was inscribed the motto, _Frederico, tranquillitatem colenti_.[23]
The interior of the palace, in the magnitude and arrangement of the
apartments, their decoration and furniture, was still more imposing
than the exterior. The grand saloon was a superb hall, the walls lined
with mirrors and costly marbles, and the ceiling painted by the most
accomplished artists of the day. The garden, with its avenues, and
bowers, and labyrinth of bloom, extended the whole length of the lake,
upon whose waters two beautiful barges floated, ever ready, under the
impulse of sails or oars, to convey parties on excursions of pleasure.
This immense building presented a front of nearly a thousand feet;
for, being in a quadrangular form, it fronted four ways. It was all
faced with hammered stone. In one of the towers this bachelor husband
constructed his library. It was a magnificent apartment, provided with
every convenience, and decorated with the most tasteful adornments
which the arts could furnish. Its windows commanded an enchanting
prospect of the lake, with its tufted islands and the densely wooded
heights beyond.
The apartments prepared for the Princess Royal were also very
magnificent. Her parlor was twenty feet high. It had six windows,
three opening in the main front toward the town, and the other three
opening toward the interior court. The spaces between the windows were
covered with immense mirrors, so arranged as to display the ceiling,
beautifully painted by one of the finest artists of the day. The artist
had spread his colors with such delicacy and skill, so exquisitely
blending light and shade, that the illusion was almost perfect. The
spectator felt that the real sky, with its fleecy clouds and infinite
depth of blue, overarched him.
Three years were occupied in enlarging and decorating this palace.
In the mean time the Princess Elizabeth resided in Berlin, or in a
small country house provided for her at Schönhausen. The Crown Prince
occasionally visited her, always treating her with the marked respect
due a lady occupying her high position.
The king was by no means pleased with the costly luxuries with which
his son was surrounding himself. But he had, in a very considerable
degree, lost his control over the Crown Prince. Frederick was now
twenty-one years of age. He had married the niece of the Emperor of
Germany. The emperor had probably once saved his life, and was disposed
particularly to befriend him, that he might secure his alliance when
he should become King of Prussia. Frederick was now the rising sun,
and his father the setting luminary. All the courts in Europe were
interested in winning the regards of the Crown Prince.
The king, as we have mentioned, allotted to his son a very moderate
income, barely enough for the necessary expenses of his establishment.
But the prince borrowed money in large sums from the Empress of
Germany, from Russia, from England. It was well known that, should his
life be preserved, he would soon have ample means to repay the loan.
Frederick William probably found it expedient to close his eyes against
these transactions. But he did not attempt to conceal the chagrin with
which he regarded the literary and voluptuous tastes of his son.
“When I am dead,” he said, petulantly, “you will see Berlin full of
madmen and freethinkers, and the sort of people who walk about the
streets.”
Wilhelmina’s purse was generally empty, and she was often in great want
of money. Her penurious father had married her below her rank that he
might escape settling upon her a dowry. Though her husband was heir to
the marquisate of Baireuth, his father was still living. That father
was a drunkard and a miser. It seems that the son received but little
more than his wages as colonel in the army. Wilhelmina records that one
day her brother Fritz came to her and said,
“Seckendorf” (the embassador of the emperor) “sometimes sends me money,
of which I have great need. I have already taken measures that he
should procure some for you. My _galleons_ arrived yesterday, and I
will divide their contents with you.”
He then gave her a thousand crowns. Wilhelmina manifested a little
natural reluctance in receiving the money. But he shrugged his
shoulders and said,
“Take them freely. The empress sends me as much money as I wish. I
assure you that by this means I get rid of the demon of poverty as soon
as I find him approaching me.”
“The empress, then,” added Wilhelmina, “is a better exorcist than other
priests.”
“Yes,” the Crown Prince replied; “and I promise you that she will drive
away your demon as well as mine.”
Poland, ever in turmoil, was at this time choosing a king. The emperor
advocated the claims of August of Saxony. France urged Stanislaus, a
Polish noble, whose daughter had married the French dauphin. War ensued
between France and Germany. Frederick William became the ally of the
emperor. An army of ten thousand men, admirably equipped and organized,
was upon the march for the Rhine, to act with the emperor against
France. The Crown Prince was very eager to join the expedition, and
obtained permission to do so.
On the evening of the 29th of June, 1734, there was a grand ball at
the little palace of Monbijou. At three o’clock in the morning the
Crown Prince changed his ball-dress for a military suit, and with his
staff set out at full speed for the seat of war. They traveled in
carriages, by post, night and day, hastening to take part in the siege
of Philipsburg. A little after midnight on the morning of the 2d of
July, they reached Hof, having traveled two hundred miles, and having
two hundred miles still farther to go. At Hof the prince was within
thirty-five miles of Baireuth, to which place Wilhelmina had some time
before returned. He was very anxious to see her. But his father had
strictly prohibited his going through Baireuth, under the assumption
that it would occasion loss of time. Frederick made arrangements with
Wilhelmina, who was in a very delicate state of health, to meet him at
Berneck, about twelve miles from Baireuth. But, unfortunately, one of
the carriages which conveyed the Crown Prince and his companions lost a
wheel, which detained them several hours. The commands of the king were
explicit that the Crown Prince should not be separated from the rest of
the company.
Thus Wilhelmina, upon reaching Berneck, according to appointment,
did not find her brother there, and could hear nothing from him. The
prince, upon his arrival at Hof, wrote as follows to his sister
“Hof, July 2, 1734, not long after 4 A.M.
“MY DEAR SISTER,--Here I am, within six leagues of a sister I
love, and I have to decide that it will be impossible to see
her after all. I have never so lamented the misfortune of not
depending on myself as at this moment. The king being very sour
sweet on my score, I dare not risk the least thing. A week from
next Monday, when he arrives himself, I should be queerly treated
in the camp if I were found to have disobeyed orders.
“The queen commands me to give you a thousand regards from her.
She appeared much affected at your illness. But I can not warrant
you how sincere it was, for she is totally changed, and I no
longer comprehend her. She has done me all the hurt with the king
she could. As to Sophie, she is no longer the same. She approves
all the king says or does, and is charmed with her big clown of a
bridegroom.
“The king is more difficult than ever. He is content with
nothing. He has no gratitude for whatever favors one can do him.
As to his health, it is one day better, another worse; but the
legs they are always swelled. Judge what my joy must be to get
out of that turpitude; for the king will only stay a fortnight at
most in camp.
“Adieu! my adorable sister. I am so tired I can not stir, having
left on Tuesday night, or rather Wednesday morning, at three
o’clock, from a ball at Monbijou, and arrived here this Friday
morning at four. I recommend myself to your gracious remembrance,
and am, for my own part, till death, dearest sister, your
FREDERICK.”
In the mean time, Wilhelmina, disappointed in not finding her brother,
wrote to him the following account of her adventures:
“I got to Berneck at ten. The heat was excessive. I found myself quite
worn out with the little journey I had taken. I alighted at the house
which had been got ready for my brother. We waited for him, and in
vain waited till three in the afternoon. At three we lost patience;
had dinner served without him. While we were at table there came on
a frightful thunder-storm. I have witnessed nothing so terrible. The
thunder roared and reverberated among the rocky cliffs which begirdle
Berneck, and it seemed as if the world were going to perish. A deluge
of rain succeeded the thunder.
“It was four o’clock, and I could not understand what had become of my
brother. I had sent out several persons on horseback to get tidings of
him, and none of them came back. At length, in spite of all my prayers,
the hereditary prince[24] himself would go in search. I was in cruel
agitations. These cataracts of rain are very dangerous in the mountain
countries. The roads get suddenly overflowed, and accidents often
happen. I thought for certain one had happened to my brother, or to the
hereditary prince.
“At last, about nine, somebody brought word that my brother had
changed his route and gone to Culmbach, there to stay overnight. I was
for setting out thither. Culmbach is twenty miles from Berneck. But
the roads are frightful, and full of precipices. Every body rose in
opposition. And whether I would or not they put me into the carriage
for Himmelkron, which is only about ten miles off. We had like to have
got drowned on the road, the waters were so swollen. The horses could
not cross but by swimming.
“I arrived at last about one in the morning. I instantly threw myself
on a bed. I was like to die of weariness, and in mortal terror that
something had happened to my brother or the hereditary prince. The
latter relieved me on his own score. He arrived at last about four
o’clock; had still no news of my brother. I was beginning to doze a
little, when they came to inform me that M. von Knobelsdorf wished to
speak to me from the Prince Royal. I darted out of bed and ran to him.”
Knobelsdorf was the bearer of a second letter from the Crown Prince.
The first had not reached her. Frederick, having taken an hour or two
of sleep at Hof, rose much refreshed, and, continuing his journey about
fifteen miles farther, wrote this second letter as follows to his
sister:
“Munchberg, July 2, 1734.
MY DEAREST SISTER,--I am in despair that I can not satisfy my
impatience and my duty, to throw myself at your feet this day.
But, alas! dear sister, it does not depend upon me. We poor
princes are obliged to wait here till our generals come up. We
dare not go along without them. They broke a wheel in Gera.
Hearing nothing of them since, we are absolutely forced to wait
here. Judge in what a mood I am, and what sorrow must be mine.
Express order not to go by Baireuth or Anspach. Forbear, dear
sister, to torment me on things not depending on myself at all.
“I waver between hope and fear of paying my court to you. I hope
it might still be at Berneck, if you could contrive a road into
the Nürnberg highway again, avoiding Baireuth; otherwise I dare
not go. The bearer, Captain Knobelsdorf, will apprise you of
every particular. Let him settle something that may be possible.
This is how I stand at present: instead of having to expect some
favor from the king, I get nothing but chagrin. But what is more
cruel upon me than all is that you are ill. God, in his grace, be
pleased to help you, and restore that health which I so much wish
for you.
FREDERICK.”
Arrangements were made for them to meet at eight o’clock Saturday
morning, at the Lake House, situated on a small island in a beautiful
artificial sheet of water a couple of miles north of Baireuth. The
prince thus obeyed the letter of the order not to go to Baireuth. The
following account of the interview which ensued is from the pen of
Wilhelmina:
“My brother overwhelmed me with caresses, but found me in so pitiable
a state that he could not restrain his tears. I was not able to stand
on my limbs, and felt like to faint every moment, so weak was I. He
told me that the king was very angry at the margraf for not letting his
son make the campaign. I told him all the margraf’s reasons, and added
surely they were good, in respect of my dear husband.
“‘Well,’ said he, ‘let him quit soldiering then, and give back his
regiment to the king. But quiet yourself as to the fears you may have
about him if he do; for I know, by certain information, that there will
be no blood spilt.’
“The hereditary prince came in while we were talking, and earnestly
entreated my brother to get him away from Baireuth. They went to a
window and talked a long time together. My brother told me he would
write a letter to the margraf, and give him such reasons in favor of
the campaign that he doubted not it would turn the scale. He promised
to obtain the king’s express leave to stop at Baireuth on his return,
after which he went away. It was the last time I saw him on the old
footing with me. He has much changed since then. We returned to
Baireuth, where I was so ill that for three days they did not think I
should get over it.”
[Illustration: FREDERICK AND WILHELMINA.]
After this interview the Crown Prince hurried away on his route to
Philipsburg. He reached Nürnberg that night, where he wrote the
following brief but affectionate letter to his sister:
“Nürnberg, July 3, 1734.
“MY VERY DEAR SISTER,--It would be impossible to leave this
place without signifying, dearest sister, my lively gratitude
for all the marks of favor you showed me in the House on the
Lake. The highest of all that it was possible to do was that
of procuring me the satisfaction of paying my court to you. I
beg millions of pardons for so incommoding you, dearest sister,
but I could not help it, for you know my sad circumstances well
enough. I entreat you write me often about your health. Adieu, my
incomparable and dear sister. I am always the same to you, and
will remain so till my death.
FREDERICK.”
Early on the morning of the 4th the prince left Nürnberg, and reached
the camp at Weisenthal on the 7th. Here the imperial and Prussian
troops were collected, who had been sent to attempt to raise the siege
of Philipsburg. But the French lines investing the city were so strong
that Prince Eugene, in command of the imperial army, did not venture
to make an attack. The Crown Prince almost immediately rode out to
reconnoitre the lines of the foe. As he was returning through a strip
of forest a cannonade was opened, and the balls went crashing around
him through the trees. Pride of character probably came to the aid of
constitutional courage. The prince did not in the slightest degree
quicken his pace. Not the least tremor could be perceived in his hand
as he held the reins. He continued conversing with the surrounding
generals in perfect tranquillity, as if unconscious of any danger.
A week after the arrival of the prince the Prussian king entered the
camp. As it was expected that some remarkable feats of war would be
exhibited in the presence of the king, under the leadership of the
renowned Prince Eugene, a very large assemblage of princes and other
distinguished personages was collected on the field. The king remained
for a month, dwelling in a tent among his own troops, and sharing all
their hardships. He, with his son, attended all the councils of war.
Still no attempt was made to relieve Philipsburg. The third day after
the king’s arrival the city surrendered to the French. The campaign
continued for some time, with unavailing manœuvring on both sides of
the Rhine; but the Crown Prince saw but little active service. About
the middle of August the king left the camp to return home. His health
was seriously impaired, and alarming symptoms indicated that he had
not long to live. His journey was slow and painful. Gout tortured him.
Dropsy threatened to strangle him. He did not reach home until the
middle of September. The alarming state of the king’s health added very
much to the importance of the Crown Prince. It was evident that ere
long he must come into power. The following characteristic anecdote is
related of the king during this illness:
One evening, being too unwell to read his usual devotions, he called
upon his _valet de chambre_ to read prayers. In the prayer occurred the
words, “May God bless thee.” The servant, not deeming it respectful to
use _thee_ in reference to the king, took the liberty to change the
phrase, and read it, “May God bless _you_.” The king, exasperated,
hurled something at the head of the speaker, exclaiming, “It is not so;
read it again.” The terrified servant, not conceiving in what he had
done wrong, read again, “May God bless you.” The irascible monarch,
having nothing else he could grasp, took off his night-cap and threw it
into the man’s face, exclaiming, “It is not so; read it over again.”
The servant, frightened almost out of his senses, read for the third
time, “May God bless you.” “_Thee_, rogue,” shouted the king. “‘May God
bless _thee_.’ Dost thou not know, rascal, that, in the eyes of God, I
am only a miserable rascal like thyself?”
Early in October, the Crown Prince, not socially or morally improved by
his campaigning, set out on his return to Berlin. He was by no means
insensible to the fact that the crown of Prussia would soon rest upon
his brow. On the 5th he called again upon his sister at Baireuth. She
was sick and very sad. The following is Wilhelmina’s account of the
interview:
“My brother arrived on the 5th of October. He seemed to me in ill
humor. To break off conversation with me, he said that he had to write
to the king and queen. I ordered him pen and paper. He wrote in my
room, and spent more than a good hour in writing a couple of letters
of a line or two each. He then had all the court, one after another,
introduced to him; said nothing to any of them; looked merely with a
mocking air at them; after which we went to dinner.
[Illustration: THE KING AND HIS SERVANT.]
“Here his whole conversation consisted in quizzing whatever he saw,
and repeating to me, above a hundred times over, the words ‘little
prince,’ ‘little court.’ I was shocked, and could not understand how
he had changed so suddenly toward me. The etiquette of all courts in
the empire is, that nobody who has not at least the rank of captain
can sit at a prince’s table. My brother put a lieutenant there who was
in his suite, saying, ‘A king’s lieutenant is as good as a margraf’s
minister.’ I swallowed this incivility, and showed no sign.
“After dinner, being alone with me, he said, ‘Our sire is approaching
his end. He will not live out this month. I know that I have made you
great promises, but I am not in the condition to keep them. I will
leave you the half of the sum which my predecessor lent you. I think
that you will have every reason to be satisfied with that.’
“I answered that my regard for him had never been of an interested
nature; that I would never ask any thing of him but the continuance of
his friendship; and that I did not wish for one penny if it would in
the least inconvenience him.
“‘No, no,’ said he; ‘you shall have those one hundred thousand thalers.
I have destined them for you. People will be much surprised to see me
act quite differently from what they had expected. They imagine I am
going to lavish all my treasures, and that money will become as common
as pebbles in Berlin. But they will find that I know better. I mean to
increase my army, and to leave all other things on the old footing.
I will have every consideration for the queen, my mother, and will
satiate her with honors. But I do not mean that she shall meddle with
my affairs. If she try it she will find so.’
“I fell from the clouds on hearing all that, and knew not if I were
sleeping or waking. He then questioned me on the affairs of this
country. I gave him the detail of them. He said to me, ‘When your goose
of a father-in-law dies, I advise you to break up the whole court, and
reduce yourselves to the footing of a private gentleman’s establishment
in order to pay your debts. In real truth, you have no need of so many
people. And you must try to reduce the wages of those whom you can not
help keeping. You have been accustomed to live, at Berlin, with a table
of four dishes. That is all you want here. I will invite you now and
then to Berlin, which will spare table and house expenses.’
“For a long time my heart had been swelling. I could not restrain my
tears at hearing all these indignities. ‘Why do you cry?’ said he. ‘Ah!
ah! I see that you are in low spirits. We must dissipate that dark
humor. The music waits us. I will drive that fit out of you by an air
or two on the flute.’ He gave me his hand and led me into the other
room. I sat down to the harpsichord, which I inundated with my tears.”
On the fourth day after the arrival of the Crown Prince at Baireuth,
a courier came with a letter from the queen conjuring him to return
immediately, as the king was growing worse and worse. Frederick
immediately hastened to Potsdam, and on the 12th of October entered
the sick-chamber of his father in the palace there. He seems to have
thought nothing of his wife, who was at Berlin. We have no evidence
that he wrote to her during his absence, or that he visited her upon
his return. For four months the king remained a great sufferer in
Potsdam, trembling between life and death. It was often with great
difficulty that he could breathe. He was impatient and irritable in the
extreme. As he was rolled about in his Bath chair, he would petulantly
cry out, “Air! air!” as if his attendants were to blame for his
shortness of breath. The distress from the dropsy was very great. “If
you roll the king a little fast,” writes an attendant, “you hear the
water jumble in his body.” The Crown Prince was deeply affected in view
of the deplorable condition of his father, and wept convulsively. The
stern old king was stern to the end. He said one day to Frederick, “If
you begin at the wrong end with things, and all go topsy-turvy after I
am gone, I will laugh at you out of my grave.”
Quite unexpectedly, the latter part of January the virulence of
the king’s complicated diseases of gout, dropsy, and ulcers seemed
to abate. Though but forty-seven years of age, he was, from his
intemperate habits, an infirm old man. Though he lingered along for
many months, he was a great sufferer. His unamiability filled the
palace with discomfort.
Frederick returned to Ruppin. Though he treated his wife with ordinary
courtesy, as an honored member of the court, his attentions were
simply such as were due to every lady of the royal household. It does
not appear that she accompanied him to Ruppin or to Reinsberg at that
time, though the apartments to which we have already alluded were
subsequently provided for her at Reinsberg, where she was ever treated
with the most punctilious politeness. Lord Dover says that after the
accession of the prince to the throne he went to see his wife but
once a year, on her birthday. She resided most of the time at Berlin,
surrounded by a quiet little court there. However keen may have been
her sufferings in view of this cruel neglect, we have no record that
any word of complaint was ever heard to escape her lips. “This poor
Crown Princess, afterward queen,” says Carlyle, “has been heard, in her
old age, reverting in a touching, transient way to the glad days she
had at Reinsberg. Complaint openly was never heard of her in any kind
of days; but these, doubtless, were the best of her life.”
[Illustration: FRITZ IN HIS LIBRARY.]
Frederick had become very ambitious of high intellectual culture and of
literary renown. He gathered around him a numerous class of scholarly
men, and opened an extensive correspondence with the most distinguished
philosophers, poets, and historians all over Europe. He commenced and
persevered in a course of very rigorous study, rising at an early
hour, and devoting the unbroken morning to intellectual pursuits. The
renowned men of earth have not attained their renown but by untiring
exertions. For six or seven consecutive hours every day the prince was
busy in his library, when no one was allowed to interrupt him. He wrote
to a friend about this time:
“Having been not quite well lately, my physician has advised me to
take more exercise than I have hitherto done. This has obliged me to
mount my horse and take a gallop every morning. But, in order not to
be obliged on that account to change my ordinary way of life, I get up
earlier, in order to regain on the one hand what I lose on the other.”
He rose about five o’clock. After a horseback ride of an hour he
devoted the mornings to his books. The remainder of the day was given
to society, music, and recreation. The following extract from his
correspondence throws additional light upon the employment of his time.
The letter was addressed to an intimate friend, Baron Von Suhm, of
Saxony:
“I think you will not be sorry if I say a few words to you respecting
our rural amusements, for with persons who are dear to us we love to
enter even into the smallest details. We have divided our occupations
into two classes, of which the first consists of what is useful, and
the second of what is agreeable. I reckon in the list of the usefuls
the study of philosophy, history, and languages. The agreeables are
music, the tragedies and comedies which we represent, the masquerades
and presents which we give. The serious occupations, however, have
always the prerogative of going before the others. And I think I can
say that we make a reasonable use of our pleasures, only indulging
in them to relieve the mind, and to prevent moroseness and too much
philosophic gravity, which is apt not to yield a smile even to the
graces.”
Again he wrote a few months after, while absent from home: “I set
off on the 25th to return to my dear garden at Ruppin. I burn with
impatience to see again my vineyards, my cherries, and my melons.
There, tranquil and free from all useless cares, I shall live really
for myself. I become every day more avaricious of my time, of which
I render an account to myself, and never lose any of it without much
regret. My mind is now wholly turned toward philosophy. That study
renders me wonderful services, which are repaid by me with affection. I
find myself happy because I am more tranquil than formerly. My soul is
much less agitated with violent and tumultuous emotions. I suppress the
first impulses of my passions, and do not proceed to act upon them till
after having well considered the question before me.”
Immediately after his return he wrote again: “I am now a peaceable
inhabitant of Reinsberg, applying myself to study and reading almost
from morning till night. With regard to the news of this world, you
will learn them better through the gazetteers than through me. They
contain the history of the madness and folly of the great, the wars
of some, the quarrels of others, and the childish amusements of all.
These news are as little worthy the attention of a man of sense as the
quarrels of rats and mice would be.”[25]
The king was not at all pleased either with his son’s studies or his
recreations. Philosophy and literature were as obnoxious to the sturdy
old monarch as were music and all amusements save the rough pastime
of hunting stags and boars. He was a thorough materialist, having no
other thought than to drill his troops and develop the resources of
his realm. Beer and tobacco, both of which he used inordinately, were
almost his only luxuries. He often growled loudly at what he deemed
the coxcombry of his son and companions at Reinsberg, and frequently
threatened to disperse his associates.
But Frederick was now a full-grown man. His heirship to the throne
rendered him a power among the courts of Europe. It was doubtful
whether he would again submit to a caning. The infirm old king, gouty,
dropsical, weakened, and lamed by ulcers, could not conceal from
himself that his power, with his energies, was rapidly waning. Indeed,
at times, he even talked of abdicating in favor of his son. Whenever
there was a transient abatement in his maladies, he roused himself to
the utmost, took short journeys, and tried to deceive himself into the
belief that he was well again.
The principal companions of Frederick at Reinsberg were gay,
pleasure-loving men. Among them were Major Keyserling, a thoughtless
young man, full of vivacity, and of very agreeable manners; and M.
Jordan, a French young gentleman, formerly a preacher, very amiable,
and an author of considerable note. M. Jordan was devotedly attached
to the prince, and continued so through life. He gives the following
testimony to the good qualities of Frederick:
“It is not the king that I love in him; it is the man. If I considered
the dignity and the power of the king, I should only seek to keep
myself at a distance from him. But the qualities which are personal to
him, both of the heart and of the head, they attach me to him for life,
without reserve and without fear.”[26]
Lieutenant Chasot, another of his friends, was a French officer who had
killed a brother officer in a duel at Philipsburg, and, in consequence,
had fled to the Prussian lines. He had brightness of intellect and
winning manners, which rendered him a universal favorite. Captain
Knobelsdorf was a distinguished musician and architect. He rendered
signal service in enlarging and decorating the chateau at Reinsberg.
Baron De Suhm, with whom Frederick kept up a constant correspondence,
was then in Saxony, translating for the Crown Prince the philosophy of
Wolff. He sent the prince chapter by chapter, with copious notes.
In this assembly of gay young men religion was generally a topic
of ridicule. Even Jordan, the ex-preacher, was either willingly or
unwillingly borne along by the current. Subsequently, when youth and
health had fled, and he was on a sick-bed suffering from lingering
disease, he felt the need of those consolations which Christianity
alone can give. He wrote, under date of April, 1745, to Frederick, who
was then king, and whose friendship continued unabated:
“My complaint increases so much that I no longer even hope to recover
from it. I feel strongly, in the situation in which I at present
find myself, the necessity of an enlightened religion arising from
conviction. Without that, we are the beings on earth most to be pitied.
Your majesty will, after my death, do me the justice to testify that if
I have combated superstition with vehemence, I have always supported
the interests of the Christian religion, though differing from the
ideas of some theologians. As it is only possible when in danger to
discover the necessity of bravery, so no one can really have the
consoling advantage of religion except through sufferings.”
It speaks well for Frederick that during this illness, which was long
and painful, he almost daily visited at the bedside of his friend,
ministering to his wants with his own hand. After his death the king
continued his kindness to the bereaved family. Baron Bielfeld gives the
following account of one of the scenes of carousal in which these men
engaged, when in the enjoyment of youth and health:
“About a fortnight ago the prince was in a humor of extraordinary
gayety at the table. His gayety animated all the rest; and some glasses
of Champagne still more enlivened our mirth. The prince, perceiving
our disposition, was willing to promote it, and on rising from table,
told us that he was determined that we should recommence our jollity at
supper.
“We were scarcely seated at supper before he began by drinking a number
of interesting healths, which there was a necessity of pledging.
This first skirmish being over, it was followed by an incessant flow
of sallies and repartees. The most contracted countenances became
expanded. The gayety was general, even the ladies assisting in
promoting our jollity.
“After about two hours I stepped out for a moment into the vestibule.
I had placed before me a large glass of water, which the princess,
opposite to whom I had the honor to sit, in a vein of mischievous
pleasantry, had ordered to be emptied, and had filled it with Sellery
wine, which was as clear as rock water. Having already lost my taste, I
mixed my wine with wine. Thinking to refresh myself, I became joyous,
but it was a kind of joy that leaned toward intoxication.
“To finish my picture--the prince ordered me to come and sit by him.
He said many gracious things to me, and let me see into futurity as far
as my feeble sight was then capable of discovering. At the same time,
he made me drink bumper after bumper of his Lunelle wine. The rest of
the company, however, were not less sensible than I of the effects of
the nectar which there flowed in such mighty streams.
“At last, whether by accident or design, the princess broke a glass.
This was the signal for our impetuous jollity, and an example that
appeared highly worthy of our imitation. In an instant all the glasses
flew to the several corners of the room. All the crystals, porcelain,
mirrors, branches, bowls, and vases were broken into a thousand pieces.
In the midst of this universal destruction, the prince stood, like the
man in Horace who contemplates the crush of worlds, with a look of
perfect tranquillity.
[Illustration: THE BANQUET.]
“To this tumult succeeded a fresh burst of mirth, during which
the prince slipped away, and, aided by his pages, retired to his
apartment; and the princess immediately followed. The day after this
adventure the court was at its last gasp. Neither the prince nor any of
the courtiers could stir from their beds.”
Baron Bielfeld himself was so intoxicated that, in attempting to
retire, he fell down the grand staircase from top to bottom. He was
severely bruised, and was taken up senseless. “After lying about a
fortnight in bed,” he writes, “where the prince had the goodness to
come every day to see me, and to contribute every thing possible to my
cure, I got abroad again.”
Frederick William, through spies, kept himself informed of every thing
which was said or done at Reinsberg. Such orgies as the above excited
his contempt and abhorrence. But, notwithstanding the above narrative,
there is abundant testimony that the prince was not ordinarily addicted
to such shameful excesses. The Italian Count Algarotti, distinguished
alike for his familiarity with the sciences and his cultivated taste
for the fine arts, was an honored guest at Reinsberg. In a letter
addressed to Lord Hervey, under date of September 30th, 1739, the count
writes:
“What shall I say to you, my lord, of the Prince Royal, the lover and
the favorite of the Muses? Several days, which we passed with him in
his castle of Reinsberg, seemed to be but a few hours. He is the most
intelligent and the most amiable of men. Though I could notice only his
private virtues, I can boldly assure you, my lord, that the world will
one day admire his royal qualifications, and that when he shall be upon
the throne he will show himself to be the greatest of sovereigns. There
is all the reason in the world to believe that he will seek out for
great men with as much eagerness as his father does for giants.”
Baron Bielfeld gives the following account of the ordinary employments,
and the tone of conversation of the prince: “All the employments and
all the pleasures of the prince are those of a man of understanding. He
is, at this time, actually engaged in refuting the dangerous political
reveries of Machiavel. His conversation at table is charming. He talks
much and excellently well. His mind seems to be equal to all sorts of
subjects, and his imagination produces on each of them a number of new
and just ideas. His genius resembles the fire of the vestals that was
never extinct. A decent and polite contradiction is not disagreeable
to him. He possesses the rare talent of displaying the wit of others,
and of giving them opportunity to shine on those subjects in which
they excel. He jests frequently, and sometimes rallies, but never with
asperity; and an ingenious retort does not displease him.
“Nothing can be more elegant than this prince’s library. It has a view
of the lake and gardens. A collection, not very numerous, but well
chosen, of the best books in the French language are ranged in glass
cases, which are ornamented with carvings and gildings in excellent
taste. The portrait of M. De Voltaire occupies an honorable place in
this library. He is the favorite author of the prince, who has, in
general, a high esteem for good French writers both in prose and verse.
“The evenings are devoted to music. The prince has a concert in his
saloon, where no one enters who is not invited, and such invitation is
regarded as an extraordinary favor. The prince has commonly performed a
sonata and a concert for the flute, on which he plays in the greatest
perfection. He fills the flute admirably well, has great agility with
the fingers, and a vast fund of music. He composes himself sonatas. I
have had the honor of standing behind him more than once while he was
playing, and was charmed with his taste, especially in the _adagio_. He
has a continual creation of new ideas.”