“His obstinate perverse disposition which does not love his father; for when one does every thing, and really loves one’s father, one does what the father requires, not while he is there to see it, but when his back is turned too. For the rest he knows very well that I can endure no effeminate fellow who has no human inclination in him; who puts himself to shame, can not ride or shoot; and, withal, is dirty in his person, frizzles his hair like a fool, and does not cut it off. And all this I have a thousand times reprimanded, but all in vain, and no improvement in nothing. For the rest, haughty; proud as a churl; speaks to nobody but some few, and is not popular and affable; and cuts grimaces with his face as if he were a fool; and does my will in nothing but following his own whims; no use to him in any thing else. This is the answer.
Frederick William.”
Still the question of the marriages remained the subject of innumerable intrigues. There were several claimants for the hand of Wilhelmina, and many nuptial alliances suggested for Fritz. Frederick William proposed the marriage of Wilhelmina to Fred, the Prince of Wales, and to let the marriage of Fritz and Amelia for the present remain undecided. But England promptly replied “No; both marriages or none.” It is intimated by the ministers of the Prussian king that he was influenced in his vacillating course respecting the marriages not only by his doubts whether the English or a German alliance would be most desirable, but also by avarice, as he knew not what dowry he could secure with the English princess, and by jealousy, as he was very unwilling to add to the importance and the power of his hated son Fritz. He also disliked extremely his brother-in-law, George II.[6]
About the middle of January, 1729, the king went upon a hunt with his companions, taking with him Fritz, who he knew detested the rough barbaric sport. This hunting expedition to the wilds of Brandenburg and Pommern was one of great renown. Three thousand six hundred and two wild swine these redoubtable Nimrods boasted as the fruits of their prowess. Frederick William was an economical prince. He did not allow one pound of this vast mass of wild pork to be wasted. Every man, according to his family, was bound to take a certain portion at a fixed price. From this fierce raid through swamps and jungles in pursuit of wild boars the king returned to Potsdam. Soon after he was taken sick. Having ever been a hard drinker, it is not strange that his disease proved to be the gout. He was any thing but an amiable patient. The pangs of the disease extorted from him savage growls, and he vented his spleen upon all who came within the reach of his crutch or the hearing of his tongue. Still, even when suffering most severely, he never omitted any administrative duties. His secretaries every morning came in with their papers, and he issued his orders with his customary rigorous devotion to business. It was remarked that this strange man would never allow a profane expression or an indelicate allusion in his presence. This sickness lasted five weeks, and Wilhelmina writes, “The pains of Purgatory could not equal those which we endured.”
During this sickness a very curious scene occurred, characteristic of the domestic life of this royal family. The second daughter, Frederica Louisa, “beautiful as an angel, and a spoiled child of fifteen,” was engaged to the Marquis of Anspach. We will allow Wilhelmina to describe the event which took place at the table. It was early in March, 1729, while the king was still suffering from the gout:
“At table his majesty told the queen that he had letters from Anspach; the young marquis to be at Berlin in May for his wedding; that M. Bremer, his tutor, was just coming with the ring of betrothal for Louisa. He asked my sister if that gave her pleasure, and how she would regulate her housekeeping when married. My sister had got into the way of telling him whatever she thought, and home truths sometimes, without his taking it ill. She answered, with her customary frankness, that she would have a good table, which should be delicately served, and, added she, ‘which shall be better than yours. And if I have children I will not maltreat them like you, nor force them to eat what they have an aversion to.’
“‘What do you mean by that?’ replied the king; ‘what is there wanting at my table?’
“‘There is this wanting,’ she said, ‘that one can not have enough; and the little there is consists of coarse pot-herbs that nobody can eat.’
“The king, as was not unnatural, had begun to get angry at her first answer. This last put him quite in a fury. But all his anger fell on my brother and me. He first threw a plate at my brother’s head, who ducked out of the way. He then let fly another at me, which I avoided in like manner. A hail-storm of abuse followed these first hostilities. He rose into a passion against the queen, reproaching her with the bad training which she gave her children, and, addressing my brother, said,
“‘You have reason to curse your mother, for it is she who causes your being an ill-governed fellow. I had a preceptor,’ continued he, ‘who was an honest man. I remember always a story which he told me in his youth. There was a man at Carthage who had been condemned to die for many crimes he had committed. While they were leading him to execution he desired he might speak to his mother. They brought his mother. He came near, as if to whisper something to her, and bit away a piece of her ear. “I treat you thus,” said he, “to make you an example to all parents who take no heed to bring up their children in the practice of virtue.” Make the application,’ continued he, always addressing my brother; and, getting no answer from him, he again set to abusing us till he could speak no longer.
