For some years succeeding this period Wilhelmina and her brother do not seem, apart from their correspondence, to have had much personal intercourse. An important and interesting factor in their lives was their acquaintance and correspondence with Voltaire. This appears to date from the year 1736. Doubtless, during their youthful studies, pursued together years before, in spite of prohibition and difficulty, they had become acquainted with the writings of this great author. Now Frederick opened a correspondence, which, after continuing for four years, ripened into a closer acquaintance. They, however, never met until Frederick became King of Prussia. This event took place upon the death of his father, in May, 1740. In the month of November following Wilhelmina paid a memorable visit of several months to her brother, the King, at Rheinsburg, his stately and charming residence near Berlin, when he introduced Voltaire to her with the words, "I here present you to my loved sister." In connection with this visit we have the following pleasing picture:—"When evening comes, with the rough and chilly autumn air so common to that part of Germany, the candles are lit in the Queen's apartments, beautifully decorated by Pesne. The King, who has all day sat brooding over serious undertakings against the House of Hapsburg, now makes his appearance. The concert begins. The King leads the Margravine to the piano, and then takes his flute. During the pauses between the different pieces the Margravine holds philosophic and other discussions with Maupertis, Algarotti, Jordan, and Keyserling; but chiefly with Voltaire, whose society was so new, interesting, and invigorating."[2] The friendship thus formed, though Wilhelmina and Voltaire did not often meet, was continued by an interesting correspondence until the close of her troubled life.
Frederick, shortly after his accession to the throne, undertook the campaign against Austria, which when the other European Powers became involved, and there was arrayed against him perhaps the most powerful alliance ever formed, resulted in such disastrous wars, and for so many years disturbed the peace of Europe. How far the quarrel was justified, and whether the distinguished and eventful, and at the same time singular, career of Frederick as a King answered the high hopes formed of him, or proved for the common weal of his own country, are questions upon which varied opinions have been formed. It is now only fitting to trace slightly the passionate devotion and constant affection of the sister whose interest in his life and undertakings never waned. She never lost the refined and distinguished tastes of her youth, or abandoned the pursuit of literature and philosophy, and the cultivation of music. She was herself a proficient performer on several musical instruments, and found therein and in her love of learning a solace amidst the domestic troubles which came to embitter her life, and the enfeebled health in which it was passed. She set a brilliant example to her people. It has been said: "For twenty-three years the Court of a country numbering only 200,000 inhabitants rivalled those of other great countries in intellectual importance and renown. The Margravine was the magnet which attracted all that was greatest and most celebrated, all that was worthy of esteem and consideration."[3]
After the old Margrave's death her husband presented to her the Hermitage, a country residence near Baireuth, which she describes as a perfectly unique place, and as becoming under her directions one of the most beautiful castles in Germany. She gave much time and attention to its improvement, laying out the grounds and adding the most elaborate and beautiful works of art. It was at the Hermitage in the year 1744 that the Margravine wrote her celebrated Memorials, which form the chief authority for this account. These Memorials are deeply interesting and afford a striking picture of the Court life of the period. If the writer occasionally descends to coarseness or indelicacy, or speaks bitterly of her earliest years, or disrespectfully of her parents, we must remember the freedom of the time at which she wrote, the terrible hardships of her youth, her afflicted life, and still later, the loss of her husband's affections. On the whole she stands before us as a noble woman—the graceful and stately form, the beautifully modelled features, the dignified demeanour, befitting the possessor of the cultured mind, the kind heart, the constant and devoted life—faithful even to the death. It is to be regretted that the Margravine did not bring her Memorials down to a later period of her life. What remains of it is gleaned from her correspondence.
In his interludes of peace, as well as, indeed, during his many trying campaigns, Frederick devoted himself to the pursuit of literature. Stimulated by this devotion, as well as, doubtless, by a desire to add to the distinction of his Court and to his own character as a patron of letters, he induced the great French wit to take up his residence at the Castle at Potsdam. After the Treaty of Dresden, which closed the second great Silesian War and inaugurated a ten years' peace, the King added to his other residences his famous Garden Cottage, Sans-Souci. Here the literary monarch and the flattering courtier met and eulogised each other's productions. There is no doubt that Frederick here appears at his best. He was himself a voluminous writer, and it is much more pleasing to picture him in his retirement, writing history and poetry, however feeble, and receiving the plaudits of sycophants, than deluging the Continent with blood. Here, too, occasionally came Wilhelmina, renewing her acquaintance with the great littérateur, with whom she had much sympathy in common.
Voltaire's charmed life at Berlin was not, however, destined to be of long duration. After about two years the King seemed to grow weary of his intellectual favourite, and found excuses for cooling in his devotion. The circumstances under which Voltaire finally left Berlin were such that he, along with his niece, Madame Denis, were arrested, Voltaire himself only regaining his liberty after the lapse of a fortnight and on the mediation of the Margravine. This mutual friend endeavoured in vain to heal the breach between them. Although her own friendship with Voltaire was maintained during her life, the friendly character of the intercourse between him and her brother was never resumed.
But further troubles were in store for Frederick—troubles which were destined to try the nerves and break the heart of his devoted sister. When, in 1756, the war with Austria broke out again, the Margravine felt the keenest interest in it, and followed her brother's fortunes with aching heart. Intelligence of the brilliant successes which he gained and the terrible defeats sustained in his single-handed conflict with the four Powers who took up arms against him was forwarded by Frederick to his sister as opportunity offered, and fearful was the strain which her unchanging love was called upon to sustain during the last two years of her life. Here is a letter from the King to his sister, reporting progress:—
"Leitmeritz, 13th July, 1757.
"My Dearest Sister,—The French have just laid hold of Friesland; are about to pass the Weser; they have instigated the Swedes to declare war against me; the Swedes are sending 17,000 men into Pommern; will be burthensome to Stralsund and the poor country-people mainly, having no captain over them but a hydra-headed National Palaver at home, and a Long-pole with cocked hat on it here at hand. The Russians have besieged Memel; Lehwald has them on his front and in his rear. The troops of the Reich, from your plain of Furth yonder, are also about to emerge. All this will force me to evacuate Bohemia so soon as that crowd of enemies gets into motion. I am firmly resolved on the extremest efforts to save my country. We shall see if Fortune will take a new thought, or if she will entirely turn her back upon me. Happy the moment when I took to training myself in philosophy! There is nothing else that can sustain the soul in a situation like mine. I spread out to you, dear sister, the detail of my sorrows; if these things regarded myself only I could stand it with composure; but I am bound guardian of the safety and happiness of a people which has been put under my charge. There lies the sting of it, and I shall have to reproach myself with every fault, if, by any delay or over-haste, I occasion the smallest accident; all the more as, at present, any fault may be capital.
"What a business! Here is the liberty of Germany, and that Protestant cause for which so much blood has been shed; here are those two great interests again at stake, and the pinch of this huge game is such that an entirely unlucky quarter of an hour may establish over Germany the tyrannous dominion of the House of Austria for ever! I am in the case of a traveller who sees himself surrounded and ready to be assassinated by a troop of cut-throats who intend to share his spoils. Since the League of Cambria, there is no example of such a conspiracy as that infamous triumvirate now forms against me. Was it ever seen before that three great princes laid plot in concert to destroy a fourth, who had done nothing against them? I have not had the least quarrel either with France or with Russia, still less with Sweden. If, in common life, three citizens took it into their heads to fall upon their neighbour and burn his house about him, they very certainly, by sentence of tribunal, would be broken on the wheel. What! and will sovereigns, who maintain these tribunals and these laws in their States, give such example to their subjects? Happy, my dear sister, is the obscure man whose good sense, from youth upwards, has renounced all sorts of glory; who, in his safe, low place, has none to envy him, and whose fortune does not excite the cupidity of scoundrels!
"But these reflections are vain! We have to be what our birth, which decides, has made us in entering upon this world. I reckoned that, being King, it beseemed me to think as a sovereign, and I took for principle that the reputation of a prince ought to be dearer to him than life. They have plotted against me; the Court of Vienna has given itself the liberty of trying to maltreat me; my honour commanded me not to suffer it. We have come to war; a gang of robbers falls on me, pistol in hand: that is the adventure which has happened to me. The remedy is difficult; in desperate diseases there are no methods but desperate ones.