The Prince could rest quietly; in Poland numerous adherents were
working for him, in Dresden Sulkowski and Bruehl, equally ambitious,
though the former was more sure of his position. The Prince loved him
and, what was more important, was accustomed to him. He had been with
Frederick ever since they were mere boys. Together they received their
first impressions, together they became men. Sulkowski knew his master,
for he had watched him as he grew. Bruehl divined him.
When Augustus II became a Catholic in order to get the Polish crown,
the Pope Clement XI, made every effort that the son might not follow
his mother, a zealous Protestant, but that he should follow his
father's religion, a matter of indifference to the King who did not
believe in anything. For Augustus the Strong was an irritating problem
to the Church.
It was uncertain which way the election would go in Poland; in
Protestant Saxony Catholicism was an obstacle and a peril. Then the
mother, Queen Eberhardin, _nee_ Beirenth, and the grandmother Anna
Sophia, the Danish Princess, watched that the son and grandson might
not follow his father. Both ladies were Protestant fanatics. But this
is certain, that Augustus II, in his efforts to make a hereditary
monarchy of Poland, even if he were obliged to sacrifice part of it,
was inclined to make his son a Catholic--otherwise it was immaterial to
him. Urged by the Pope, Augustus the Strong on the 4th of September
1701 swore that his son should be brought up a Catholic, and on
February 8th 1702, he assured the Saxon states that his son should be
Lutheran. The fact was that he did not know which policy was the best.
When Frederick was yet a mere boy, his grandmother appointed Alexander
von Miltitz as tutor. The man was not fitted for the position. The
contemporary documents say that the grandmother had not much judgment;
she was ruled by Protestant motives, and after dinner knew less than in
the morning what she was doing. The little Frederick was taken from the
Queen Eberhardin and placed in the care of the grandmother. Alexander
von Miltitz being pedantic, avaricious, dull and lazy, could not have
had any good influence. As he was indifferent in the matter of
religion, the Protestant clergymen surrounded the young Prince, and did
not permit him to come in contact with Catholics. Furstenburg notified
the Pope about it and an admonition came from Rome.
When Frederick was twelve years old he was taken out of the women's
hands and sent with a tutor to travel, but he soon came back. Both
queens, being afraid that he might be made a Catholic, ordered him,
when fourteen years of age, to make a public confession of
Protestantism and then he received confirmation. The King, who was then
in Danzig, wrote to the Pope about it, assuring him that were he not
hindered by certain circumstances, he would have those who had dared to
take such a bold step without his knowledge, punished.
The circumstances then were such that Augustus was obliged to smooth
matters over with Rome by promising that Frederick should be converted.
General Koss was brought from Poland and appointed the Prince's
instructor. Sulkowski was already with the Prince.
In 1711 Augustus took his son to Poland from whence they went to Prague
and here the consultation with the Pope's nuncio Albani took place. The
result of it was that they determined to change the Prince's whole
court, and to surround him with Catholics. Frederick knew nothing about
it and on his return to Dresden he went to a Lutheran church.
Then General Koss, by the King's command, dismissed Baron von Miltitz
together with the other members of the court, with the exception of the
physician and the cook, and the Jesuit father Salerno took the Prince's
education in hand. In the meantime Augustus II sent his son to travel,
commanding him to go first to Venice. In those days the Venetian
carnivals held in St Mark's Square were still very famous. In January
1712 they started on the voyage which, in order to keep the Prince from
Protestant influence, was to last for seven years. All the letters the
Prince wrote to his family were read by the Saxon General, Lutzelburg,
a shrewd man, but whose morals were not of the best.
The Prince, being from the first troubled by his conscience, succeeded
in communicating with and asking help from the Queen of England, Anne,
and Frederick IV, King of Denmark. Queen Anne invited him to come to
England, the King of Denmark wrote that should he become a Catholic, he
would lose all chance of the throne of Denmark.
In the same year, the Pope assured Augustus II that in the event of the
Protestant princes attacking him, he, the Pope, would support him. In
the meantime the Prince, accompanied by Sulkowski, who, being the same
age, became his favourite, travelled incognito in Italy, under the name
of the Count of Luzacia. His court, besides Sulkowski, was composed of
two generals, Koss and Lutzelburg, and of Father Salerno in civilian's
clothes, and of another Jesuit, a Saxon, Father Vogler. The secretary
was also a Jesuit, whose name was Kopper, who also wore the garments of
a civilian and travelled under the name of Weddernoy. Consequently the
influence on the Prince was constant and as it went on several years
was difficult to resist. From Venice they went to Bologna, where the
Prince was received solemnly by the officials of the Pope. Here Father
Salerno succeeded in converting the Prince. The confession of the faith
was made in strictest secrecy, before Cardinal Cassoni. Later both
Albani and Salerno were rewarded with the hats of Cardinals.
The conversion remained a secret for a long time, and as the Saxon
states requested that the Prince might return, Augustus, not wishing to
irritate them, ordered that the proposed journey to Rome be abandoned.
In 1713 the Prince was returning home, when he was told to stay for
some time at Duesseldorf at the court of the Elector Palatine, a very
zealous Catholic; later he went on to the court of Louis XIV, who had
been advised by the Pope of his conversion. There was a rumour of a
plot made by his Protestant relations about the conversion of the
Prince, but the affair remains in obscurity. They feared continually
that the Prince might never become a Protestant again.
In Paris the Prince was very well received, as one can see from the
letters of the old Princess of Orleans; they found him very agreeable
although he spoke but little, a habit that remained with him through
life.
From France they took the Prince not to England as the original project
was, but through Lyons and Marseilles again to Venice, where the
_signoria_ did everything to amuse him. Masquerades, regattas,
comedies, balls succeeded each other.
By the advice of Pope Clement XI, it was decided to marry the Prince to
a Catholic princess; for this purpose they began to search Venice
through Father Salerno; the Count von Harkenberg and the Prince Eugene
helped so much that a Princess was promised. They took the Prince to
Vienna; he could not take one step without his father's permission.
The conversion was still secret, although the reason for sparing the
sensibility of the queen-mother ceased, for she died. In October of
1717, on a certain morning, the Count von Lutzelburg ordered the whole
court to be ready at ten o'clock in the anteroom of the Prince. About
eleven o'clock, the carriage of the papal nuncio drew up in front of
the palace and Monsignor Spinoli alighted from it and was conducted to
the Prince. Shortly after that there came a little man with a casket
under his arm and the Count von Lutzelburg said to the courtiers that
in the Prince's room something was going on, and that the Protestants
could look at it or not. The door opened, the nuncio was reading, and
the Prince, not being well and lying in bed, listened with great piety.
After the Mass the nuncio left and the Prince said to his Protestant
courtiers:
'Gentlemen, now you know what I am, and I beg of you to follow me.'
To this General Kospoth answered:
'We have not yet had time to realise it, it is difficult to decide at
once.'
The Prince said:
'You are right, one must first of all become good Christians, then
Catholics.'
The secret was unveiled; the following Sunday the Prince went to the
Jesuit church and took the Communion. There was great joy in Rome over
this success.
Saxony was again assured that the Protestant religion should be
respected, but it was easy to foresee that efforts would be made
towards conversions. They kept the Prince seven months in Vienna,
Augustus furnished plenty of money for a splendid court and balls; and
there he was married, in 1719, to the Archduchess Maria Josephine.
During the whole of that time Sulkowski was continually with the
Prince. He returned with the court to Dresden where the Emperor's
daughter was received with the greatest honours. Sulkowski by habit and
necessity shared in all the amusements of the Prince, his hunting
parties, theatres and art. During his travels with the Prince in
Germany, France and Italy, he saw a great deal and educated himself; he
learned to know the world, and what was more important, Frederick's
likes and dislikes. He was able to take advantage of them, by pleasing
him, to rule him, and he felt that he was so necessary to him that
nobody could overthrow him. The Prince was very familiar with him, and
the critical times made their relations still closer. The friends that
Sulkowski made in various courts strengthened him still more, for he
knew that in case of emergency he could count on them.
Therefore he neither feared Bruehl's competition nor anybody else's.
Through his wife, _nee_ Hein Jettingen, he was sure of having the
Princess on his side.
He was less humble than Bruehl, but a more consummate courtier, more
daring, in a word he was a 'cavalier' as they said in those times, of
the best sort. Tall and polished, Sulkowski had not the ability
necessary for a prime minister, but he was proud and very ambitious.
Less familiar with the affairs of state than Bruehl, who for a long time
worked in Augustus' private office, he was sure of the help of a man
from whom he expected assistance. Consequently he determined to become
a ruler, being persuaded that he would be able to hold the position.
Sulkowski's way of living was more modest than Bruehl's, for he was not
fond of luxury. Sulkowski's court was not very numerous, the servants
not very refined, the carriages not very elegant.
The portfolio was about to be handed to him, when one morning, before
he went to see the Prince, he sent for his man. Sulkowski was reading a
French book, waiting, when the councillor Ludovici, whom he had sent
for, entered, out of breath. Ludovici held the same position with
Sulkowski that Henniche did with Bruehl: he was his factotum, principal
clerk in his office and adviser.
One glance at the man was sufficient to indicate who he was. His face
bore no special characteristic, but it could change and assume any
expression that was necessary. His whole face was covered with
wrinkles; his eyes were black, and his mouth moved so quickly that it
was impossible to describe its shape; while in motion it made Ludovici
unpleasing. It was necessary to be accustomed to him in order to
tolerate him. Fortunately for Sulkowski he was accustomed to him, and
by his own dignified manner he could control Ludovici's impatience.
Having entered he leaned on the chair nearest to hand and awaited the
new minister's orders.
Sulkowski seemed to be thinking whether or not he would make a
confidant of the councillor, and his thoughtful attitude excited the
latter's curiosity.
'It is very unpleasant,' he said at length rising and looking out of
the window, 'that living in the court, and having the confidence of the
Elector as I have, I must yet resort to certain precautions.'
Ludovici smiled, lowered his eyes, but did not dare to interrupt.
'I can say frankly,' continued Sulkowski, 'that I am not afraid of
anybody, but in the meanwhile I must not trust anybody.'
'Excellent! Beautiful!' said Ludovici, 'we must trust no one. A very
intelligent man once said to me that one must treat one's friends in
such a way as though we expected that to-morrow they would become our
foes.'
'The question is not that they might become my foes, but that they
shall not harm me; but I must know about their plans and movements.'
'Excellent! Beautiful!' Ludovici repeated.
'Until now this was not necessary, to-day it seems to me unavoidable.'
'Excellent! Beautiful!' Ludovici repeated. 'Yes! we must have men who
will keep their eyes open on everything.'
'Yes, even on people in high positions,' said Sulkowski emphatically.
Ludovici looked and being uncertain that he rightly caught the meaning
of the words, waited. He did not know how high his suspicions would
reach.
Sulkowski was unwilling to explain himself better.
'I cannot,' he said with some hesitation, 'look into all the official
doings of my colleagues.'
'Official doings!' said Ludovici, laughing, 'that is a trifle; their
private doings are more important to your Excellency.'
'Consequently I should like to have--'
'Excellent, beautiful--a little report,' rejoined Ludovici, 'every day,
regularly. Written or verbal?'
They both hesitated.
'Verbal will do,' said Sulkowski, 'you might bring it to me in person,
after getting the necessary material.'
'Yes, truly, yes. I--and I can assure your Excellency, that you cannot
have a more faithful servant.'
Here he bowed very respectfully and then raised his head.
'I would take the liberty of making some suggestions,' Ludovici said
softly. 'The foreign resident ministers should be carefully watched,
for what else are they than official spies of their countries? I do not
exclude even the Count von Wallenstein although he is the master of
ceremonies. And then the Prussian Waldburg, the Marquise de Monte, the
resident minister Woodward, the Count Weisbach, and the Baron Zulich.'
'Ah! my dear Ludovici, very often the foreign countries are not as
dangerous as home intrigues.'
'Excellent, beautiful,' Ludovici said. 'Yes! Yes! Yes! Nobody respects
the minister Bruehl more than I do.'
At that moment Sulkowski looked at Ludovici, the councillor at him,
laughed, raised his hand, turned his head aside, and became silent.
Thus they understood each other.
'He is my friend,' said Sulkowski, 'a man whose great talents I
appreciate.'
'Talents--great, unusual, enormous, fearful,' Ludovici affirmed with
animation. 'Oh, yes!'
'You must know that the late King recommended him very strongly to the
Prince, that he is going to marry the Countess Kolowrath, that the
Princess thinks much of him. Notwithstanding all that, you would be
wrong in interpreting my thoughts if you suppose that I distrust him,
that I fear him--'
'Yes, but it is better to be cautious, and it is necessary to
watch--through him flows the river of silver and gold.'
Sulkowski changed the subject of conversation and said:
'They complain to me that Watzdorf has too ready a tongue.'
'The younger one,' Ludovici interrupted, 'yes, yes unbridled, but it is
a mill that grinds away its own stones; his talk will harm himself
alone, and then he cannot help being angry, because--'
He did not finish, for a loud noise was heard in the ante-room.
Sulkowski listened, Ludovici became silent, and his face and manner
changed; from a courtier he became a dignified official. Pushing,
interrupted by a woman's laughter, was heard. Evidently someone was
trying to enter by force.
Sulkowski gave Ludovici to understand that the interview was over for
the present and advanced towards the door, through which there appeared
a lady dressed very strangely.
Figures such as she presented are seen only on screens or made of
china. Over-dressed and very plain, thin, sallow, smelling of _l'eau de
la reine d'Hongrie_, wearing a large wig, the little woman rushed in
looking sweetly at Sulkowski with her small eyes.
The moment that this unwelcome guest took the room by storm, Ludovici
bowed humbly, left the room, and the new-comer looked at him and said:
'_Ah! ce cher comte!_ You see, you ungrateful, before you could learn
that I was in Dresden, as soon as I had kissed the hand of my august
pupil, I came to see you. _N'est ce pas joli de via part?_'
Sulkowski bowed and wanted to kiss her hand, but she struck him with
her fan and said:
'Let that be--I am old, it would not be seemly; but let me sit
somewhere.'
She looked round and sat on the nearest chair.
'I must breathe; I wanted to talk to you privately.'
Sulkowski stood before her ready to listen.
'Well, we have lost our great magnificent Augustus.'
She sighed, so did Sulkowski.
'It's a pity that he died, but between ourselves, he lived long enough,
he abused his life a great deal--I cannot speak about that: _des
horreurs_! What will become now of you, poor orphans? The Prince? He is
inconsolable in his grief? True? Yes? I came from my court with
condolences to my august and dearest pupil.'
She bent a little and leaned on the arm of the chair, raising the fan
to her mouth.
'What news? My dear Count, what news? I already know that you have been
appointed to a position due to you. We are all glad of it, for we know
that our court can count on you.'
Sulkowski bowed.
From those words it was easy to guess that the new-comer was sent by
the Austrian court. She was a famous teacher of the Archduchess
Josephine, Fraeulein Kling, whom they used to send where a man would
attract too much attention. Fraeulein Kling was one of the most able
diplomats in the service of the Austrian court.
'I suppose you already know about everything.'
'Dear Count, I don't know anything; I know only that the Kuerfurst loves
you, that Bruehl is going to help you. But pray, tell me, who is this
Bruehl?'
Sulkowski became thoughtful.
'He is a friend of mine!' he answered at length.
'Now I understand. You know that the Princess promised him the Countess
Kolowrath's hand and that the girl, as it seems, does not fancy him
very much. Was Bruehl not madly in love with the Countess Moszynski?'
All this was said so quickly, that it gave Sulkowski no time to think
over his answer.
'Yes,' said he shortly, 'it seems that he is going to marry.'
'But he is a Lutheran?'
'He is going to be converted to Catholicism.'
'It is to be hoped not in the same way as the late magnificent and
great Augustus II, who used to put rosaries round the necks of his
favourite hounds.'
Sulkowski was silent.
'What more? I have not yet seen the Prince--has he changed? Has he
become sadder? I pity him! Mourning--he will not have an opera for a
long time. And what about Faustina? Is she superseded by someone else?'
'The Prince wishes to keep everything as it was during his late
father's life. Nobody could supersede Faustina.'
'But she is old.'
'She charms with her voice alone.'
Fraeulein covered her face with her fan and moved her head.
'It is a very delicate question,' she said softly, 'for me as a woman,
but I am inquisitive, I must know. My dear Count, tell me, is he still
faithful to his wife? I love her so much, my dear, august pupil!'
The Count retreated.
'It is beyond my doubt,' said he with animation. 'The Princess does not
leave him for a moment; she accompanies him to the hunting parties, to
Hubertsburg and Diannenburg.'
'In order that he may become sooner tired of her,' whispered the lady.
'That's unwise--I am always afraid of that passion which must be in his
blood.'
She looked at the Count, who shook his head.
'The Prince is so pious,' said he.
Fraeulein Kling covered her smile with her fan. The windows of the room
in which they were sitting looked on the square. Although they spoke
quite loudly, some laughter and shouting became so overpowering, that
Sulkowski, frowning, could not help turning towards the window to see
what was going on in the street.
In those times street noises and shouting of the mob were very rare. If
anything of the kind happened the cause for it was nearly always an
official one. In this case, one could see through the windows crowds of
people in the street, in the windows and doors of the opposite houses.
Amongst the crowd, moving like a wave, a strange procession advanced.
Fraeulein Kling, very curious, sprang from her chair and rushed to the
window, and, having pushed aside the curtain, she and Sulkowski looked
into the street.
The crowd passed under the windows, rushing after a man dressed in dark
clothes and sitting on a donkey, his face turned toward the ass's tail.
The donkey was led by a man dressed in red. It was painful to look at
the unfortunate culprit, an elderly man, bent and crushed by shame.
From the window one could see his pale face with the painful expression
of a punished man, who, judging by his dress, belonged to the better
class. His pockets were full of papers sticking out; his clothes were
unbuttoned and threadbare. A kind of stupor evidently followed the
humiliation, for he mechanically clasped the donkey in order not to
fall, he did not look at what was going on around him, though men armed
with halberds surrounded him, while the always merciless crowd threw
mud and small stones at him. His dress and face was covered with dirt.
The men laughed, the children rushed, screamed and thoughtlessly
tortured the unfortunate man.
'What is it?' cried Fraeulein Kling. 'What is going on? I don't
understand!'
'Oh! nothing!' said Sulkowski indifferently, 'a very simple thing. It
cannot be permitted that any scribbler can dare to criticise the people
belonging to the upper classes, and speak about them disrespectfully.'
'Naturally,' answered Fraeulein Kling, 'one cannot permit them to attack
the most sacred things.'
'That man,' said Sulkowski, 'is an editor of some paper called a
gazette, or news; his name is Erell. We noticed that he took too many
liberties. At length he said something very outrageous in the _Dresden
Merkwuerdigkeiten_ and they ordered him to be put on such a donkey as he
is himself.'
'_Et c'est juste_!' cried Fraeulein Kling. 'One must be severe with such
people. I should like to see the same in Vienna, that we might catch
those who take the liberty of speaking about our secrets in Hamburg and
the Hague.'
They looked through the window on the shouting crowd. Erell, an old
man, evidently exhausted, swayed to the right and to the left and
seemed likely to fall from the donkey. At the bend in the street he
disappeared and Fraeulein Kling returned to her arm-chair; Sulkowski
took another, and they began to talk. The host however answered her
questions cautiously and coolly.
'My dear Count,' the lady at length added, 'you must understand that my
court is anxious that the Kurfuerst and his consort should be surrounded
by people with sound common sense. It is true, that officially you have
accepted the Pragmatic Sanction, but--someone might easily tempt you.
My court trusts you, my dear Count, and you can count on it, for we
know how to be grateful.'
'I consider myself the most faithful servant of His Imperial Majesty,'
said Sulkowski: Fraeulein Kling rose, looked in a mirror, smiled and
curtseyed. Sulkowski offered her his arm and conducted her downstairs,
to the court post-chaise waiting at the door, which was lifted by two
porters in yellow livery, who carried off the smiling lady.