The Departure
In the year 1626 a genealogical work was published in Berlin, containing
a fine copperplate engraving of the Prince Frederick William. He was
then six years of age. The attractive young face, framed in abundant
hair, shows the same expressive features which later characterized the
Great Elector. He wears a jacket of flowery embroidered stuff and white
breeches, besides ruffles and collar.
When the Electoral Prince reached his seventh year (1627) Baron
Leuchtmar was instructed to enter upon his duties as educator. He was
summoned to the castle and proceeded at once to the antechamber leading
to the audience-room. Stepping to the window he saw the Prince crossing
the narrow wooden bridge where afterwards stood the majestic castle
bridge adorned with marble groups. His preceptor, Muller, an elderly but
still active man, who had instructed him in a general way during the
previous two years, walked by his side. Upon being summoned to the
audience-chamber, Leuchtmar found the Electoress seated at a marble
table, upon which were the instructions which she had just read over
again. She beckoned him to her side and said:
"My dear Baron, my husband and I have finally decided upon the castle of
Custrin as the Prince's abode so long as these troublesome times
continue. Many warlike bands have traversed our country of late to our
sorrow, and now we hear that Wallenstein has been summoned and will
sweep over the land with his army. He has made fine promises to spare
Brandenburg, but he means to play the part of the wolf toward our
country, which he regards as the lamb. In these times of tumult, whose
end is not yet visible, my husband and I are deeply concerned about the
education of our oldest son. The confusion and excitement of war would
deprive him of the quiet and peace which are indispensable, if his
education is to be of any benefit. The strong castle of Custrin is at
present a secure place. You will accompany him there. During the summer
season you may take him to the hunting-castle of Letzlingen. Consider,
my dear Baron, the sacrifice my husband and I are making for the welfare
of the fatherland,--the separation of our family,--my husband in distant
Prussia, I here, our oldest son in Custrin. Tell me, does it not all
show that we are an afflicted family, and that the favors we enjoy are
but of little consequence as compared with the calamities which our
position forces us to endure?"
"Gracious Princess," said Leuchtmar, "the people fully recognize that,
and also that--"
"My dear Baron," interrupted the Electoress, "I have had some
unfortunate experiences with the people, but we will not talk about
them. It will greatly please me if you will cherish my last words and
let them sink deep into your heart." She took the instructions from the
table. "My dear Baron, in these papers you will find the substantial
features of the system you are to follow in the education and upbringing
of my son. But I must add some words from my heart. Above all else,
educate my son to be a pious, Christian man. Then take the utmost care
that the pious soul dwells in a strong body. May our Heavenly Father
grant you clear insight and bless your work! Then my son will prove an
exemplar for our own people in soul and body. Finally, my dear Baron,
see to it that my son is spared as far as possible from the knowledge
that a bloody war is raging around us. May this curse keep far away from
his retreat. Now I ask you before God, will you strive with all your
might and daily implore divine assistance to accomplish what these
instructions set forth and what my heart has told you? If you will,
confirm it, not by an oath, but in knightly fashion, by the clasp of the
hand."
This was done, and Leuchtmar, bowing low, said, with great emotion:
"Gracious Princess, I will strive to the utmost of my ability to
accomplish what you desire, with the help of God."
A few days later, on the fourth of May, the Prince, Leuchtmar, Muller
his preceptor, and a little band of attendants, made ready to depart. No
one saw the tears the mother shed in parting with her beloved son. The
weeping Prince at last left her apartment; Leuchtmar led him to the
coach, drawn by powerful horses; it rolled over the long bridge, through
Saint George's street, and out through Saint George's Gate. The Baron
did not intrude upon the Prince's grief at parting from his mother, but
the change of scene, the bright sky, the green of the trees, and the
songs of the lark and other birds, gradually softened the bitter sorrow
in the child's heart.