Frederick the Great and His Court | Page 4

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY
MRS. CHAPMAN COLEMAN AND HER DAUGHTERS

CONTENTS.
BOOK I.
CHAPTER
I. The Queen Sophia Dorothea, II. Frederick William I., III. The
Tobacco Club, IV. Air-Castles, V. Father and Son, VI. The White
Saloon, VII. The Maid of Honor and the Gardener, VIII. Von
Manteuffel, the Diplomat, IX. Frederick, the Prince Royal, X. The
Prince Royal and the Jew, XI. The Princess Royal Elizabeth Christine,
XII. The Poem, XIII. The Banquet, XIV. Le Roi est Mort. Vive le Roi!
XV. We are King, XVI. Royal Grace and Royal Displeasure,
BOOK II.
I. The Garden of Monbijou, II. The Queen's Maid of Honor. III. Prince
Augustus William, IV. The King and the Son, V. The Queen's Tailor,
VI. The Illustrious Ancestors of a Tailor, VII. Soffri e Taci, VIII. The
Coronation, IX. Dorris Ritter, X. Old and New Sufferings, XI. The
Proposal of Marriage, XII. The Queen as a Matrimonial Agent, XIII.
Proposal of Marriage, XIV. The Misunderstanding, XV. Soiree of the

Queen Dowager, XVI. Under the Lindens, XVII. The Politician and the
French Tailor, XVIII. The Double Rendezvous,
BOOK III.
I. The Intriguing Courtiers, II. The King and the Secretary of the
Treasury, III. The Undeceived Courtier, IV. The Bridal Pair, V. The
French and German Tailors, or the Montagues and Capulets of Berlin,
VI. In Rheinsberg, VII. The King and his Friend, VIII. The Farewell
Audience of Marquis von Botta, the Austrian Ambassador, IX. The
Masquerade, X. The Maskers, XI. Reward and Punishment, XII. The
Return, XIII. The Death of the Old Time, XIV. The Discovery, XV.
The Countermine, XVI. The Surprise, XVII. The Resignation of Baron
von Pollnitz,

FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS COURT.

BOOK I.

CHAPTER I
.
THE QUEEN SOPHIA DOROTHEA.
The palace glittered with light and splendor; the servants ran here and
there, arranging the sofas and chairs; the court gardener cast a
searching glance at the groups of flowers which he had placed in the
saloons; and the major domo superintended the tables in the picture
gallery. The guests of the queen will enjoy to-night a rich and costly
feast. Every thing wore the gay and festive appearance which, in the
good old times, the king's palace in Berlin had been wont to exhibit.
Jesting and merrymaking were the order of the day, and even the busy
servants were good-humored and smiling, knowing that this evening
there was no danger of blows and kicks, of fierce threats and trembling
terror. Happily the king could not appear at this ball, which he had
commanded Sophia to give to the court and nobility of Berlin.
The king was ill, the gout chained him to his chamber, and during the

last few sleepless nights a presentiment weighed upon the spirit of the
ruler of Prussia. He felt that the reign of Frederick the First would soon
be at an end; that the doors of his royal vault would soon open to
receive a kingly corpse, and a new king would mount the throne of
Prussia.
This last thought filled the heart of the king with rage and bitterness.
Frederick William would not die! he would not that his son should
reign in his stead; that this weak, riotous youth, this dreamer,
surrounded in Rheinsberg with poets and musicians, sowing flowers
and composing ballads, should take the place which Frederick the First
had filled so many years with glory and great results.
Prussia had no need of this sentimental boy, this hero of fashion, who
adorned himself like a French fop, and preferred the life of a sybarite,
in his romantic castle, to the battle-field and the night- parade; who
found the tones of his flute sweeter than the sounds of trumpets and
drums; who declared that there were not only kings by "the grace of
God, but kings by the power of genius and intellect, and that Voltaire
was as great a king--yes, greater than all the kings anointed by the
Pope!" What use has Prussia for such a sovereign? No, Frederick
William would not, could not die! His son should not reign in Prussia,
destroying what his father had built up! Never should Prussia fall into
the hands of a dreaming poet! The king was resolved, therefore, that no
one should know he was ill; no one should believe that he had any
disease but gout; this was insignificant, never fatal. A man can live to
be eighty years old with the gout; it is like a faithful wife, who lives
with us even to old age, and with whom we can celebrate a golden
wedding. The king confessed to himself that he was once more clasped
in her tender embraces, but the people and the prince should not hope
that his life was threatened.
For this reason should Sophia