[7] “It was a marriage much beneath what this princess might have pretended to. But Frederick William loved such alliances—first, because they were at hand, and brought about without trouble, and thus his daughters were taken off his hands at an early age; and, secondly, because to these little princes the honor of obtaining a Princess of Prussia was sufficient, whereas great sovereigns would have required a more considerable dower than the avaricious habits of Frederick William permitted him to give.”—Life of Frederick II., by Lord Dover.

[8] “The sad truth, dimly indicated, is sufficiently visible. His life for the next four or five years was extremely dissolute. Poor young man, he has got into a disastrous course; consorts chiefly with debauched young fellows, as Lieutenants Katte, Keith, and others of their stamp, who lead him on ways not pleasant to his father, nor conformable to the laws of this universe. Health, either of body or mind, is not to be looked for in his present way of life. The bright young soul, with its fine strengths and gifts wallowing like a rhinoceros in the mud bath. Some say it is wholesome for a human soul; not we.”—Carlyle, ii., p. 21.

[9] “Never in any romance or stage play was young lady, without blame, without furtherance, and without hinderance of her own, so tormented about a settlement in life—passive she all the while, mere clay in the hands of the potter, and begging the universe to have the extreme goodness only to leave her alone.”—Carlyle.

[10] The Prussian minister Reichenbach, at London, wrote to M. Grumkow, under date of March 14, 1730: “Reichenbach flatters himself that the king will remain firm, and not let his enemies deceive him. If Grumkow and Seckendorf have opportunity, they may tell his Prussian majesty that the whole design of this court is to render his country a province dependent on England. When once the Princess Royal of England shall be wedded to the Prince Royal of Prussia, the English, by that means, will form such a party at Berlin that they will altogether tie his Prussian majesty’s hands.”

[11] Carlyle.

[12] Memoires de la Margrave De Bareuth.

[13] “A Captain Fouqué comes to Cüstrin on duty or as a volunteer by-and-by. He is an old friend of the prince’s; a ready-witted, hot-tempered, highly-estimable man. He is often with the prince. Their light is extinguished precisely at seven o’clock. ‘Very well, lieutenant,’ he would say, ‘you have done your orders to the Crown Prince’s light. But his majesty has no concern with Captain Fouqué’s candles,’ and thereupon would light a pair. Nay, I have heard of lieutenants who punctually blew out the prince’s light, as a matter of duty and command, and then kindled it again as a civility left free to human nature. In short, his majesty’s orders can only be fulfilled to the letter. Even in the letter his majesty’s orders are severe enough.”—Carlyle, vol. ii., p. 218.

[14] Voltaire, in his unreliable “Vie Privée du Roi de Prusse,” t. ii., p. 51, says that, when Frederick became king, he settled upon Doris, who was then married and poor, an annuity of seventy-six dollars. Thiebault, far more accurate, in his “Souvenirs de Vingt Ans de Séjour à Berlin,” says he gave her a pension of one hundred and fifty-six dollars. It does not speak well for Frederick that he could have so meanly requited so terrible a wrong.

[15] “The first idea of Frederick William was to deliver his son over to be condemned by the ordinary tribunal of Prussia, well knowing that his judges would never venture to decide except according to his wishes. Indeed, he took a very summary as well as a very certain mode of effecting this object; for, whenever their sentiments were not approved by him, he was in the habit of going into the court where they sat and there distributing kicks and blows to all the judges in turn, at the same time calling them rogues and blackguards! From men so circumstanced Frederick would have no chance of acquittal.”—The Life of Frederick II., by Lord Dover, vol. i., p. 33.

[16] “The prince had been some weeks in his prison at Cüstrin when one day an old officer, followed by four grenadiers, entered his chamber weeping. Frederick had no doubt that he was to be made a head shorter. But the officer, still in tears, ordered the grenadiers to take him to the window and hold his head out of it, that he might be obliged to look on the execution of his friend Katte upon a scaffold expressly built for that purpose. He saw, stretched out his hand, and fainted. The father was present at this exhibition.”—Memoirs of the Life of Voltaire, p. 26.