"I have ordered Porcelain here for all the world, for Schonhausen [for your Mistress, my poor uncomplaining Wife], for my Sisters-in-law; in fact, I am rich in this brittle material only. And I hope the receivers will accept it as current money: for, the truth is, we are poor as can be, good Mamma; I have nothing left but honor, my coat, my sword, and porcelain.
"Farewell, my beloved Mamma. If Heaven will, I shall one day see you again face to face; and repeat to you, by word of mouth, what I have already said and written; but, turn it and re-turn it as I may, I shall never, except very incompletely, express what the feelings of my heart to you are.—F." [Given in Rodenbeck, ii. 79; omitted, for I know not what reason, in OEuvres de Frederic, xviii. 145: cited partly in Preuss, ii. 282.] ———
It was during this Winter, if ever it was, that Friedrich received the following Letter from an aspiring Young Lady, just coming out, age seventeen,—in a remote sphere of things. In "Sleepy Hollow" namely, or the Court of Mirow in Mecklenburg-Strelitz, where we once visited with Friedrich almost thirty years ago. The poor collapsed Duke has ceased making dressing-gowns there; and this is his Niece, Princess Charlotte, Sister to the now reigning Duke.
This Letter, in the translated form, and the glorious results it had for some of us, are familiar to all English readers for the last hundred years. Of Friedrich's Answer to it, if he sent one, we have no trace whatever. Which is a pity, more or less;—though, in truth, the Answer could only have been some polite formality; the Letter itself being a mere breath of sentimental wind, absolutely without significance to Friedrich or anybody else,—except always to the Young Lady herself, to whom it brought a Royal Husband and Queenship of England, within a year. Signature, presumably, this Letter once had; date of place, of day, year, or even century (except by implication), there never was any: but judicious persons, scanning on the spot, have found that the "Victory" spoken of can only have meant Torgau; and that the aspiring Young Lady, hitherto a School Girl, not so much as "confirmed" till a month or two ago, age seventeen in May last, can only have I written it, at Mirow, in the Winter subsequent. [Ludwig Giesebrecht,—DER FURSTENHOF IN MIROW WUHREND DER JAHRE 1708-1761, in Programm des vereinigten Koniglichen und Stadt-Gymnasiums for 1863 (Stettin, 1863), pp. 26-29,—enters into a minute criticism.] Certain it is, in September NEXT, September, 1761, directly after George III.'s Wedding, there appeared in the English Newspapers, what doubtless had been much handed about in society before, the following "TRANSLATION OF A LETTER, SAID TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY PRINCESS CHARLOTTE OF MECKLENBERG TO THE KING OF PRUSSIA, ON ONE OF HIS VICTORIES,"—without farther commentary or remark of any kind; everybody then understanding, as everybody still. So notable a Document ought to be given in the Original as well (or in what passes for such), and with some approach to the necessary preliminaries of time and place: [From Gentleman's Magazine (for October, 1761, xxxi. 447) we take, verbatim, the TRANSLATION; from PREUSS (ii. 186) the "ORIGINAL," who does not say where he got it,—whether from an old German Newspaper or not.]—
[TO HIS MAJESTY THE KING OF PRUSSIA (in Leipzig, or Somewhere. or Somewhere).
MIROW IN MECHLENBURG-STRELITZ, Winter of 1760-1761.]
"Sire!—Ich weiss nicht, ob ich uber Ewr. Majestat letzteren Sieg frohlich odor traurig sein soll, weil eben der gluckliche Sieg, der neue Lorbeern um Dero Scheitel geflochten hat, uber mein Vaterland Jammer und Elend verbreitet. Ich weiss, Sire, in diesem unserm lasterhaft verfeinerten Zeitalter werde ich verlacht werden, dass mein Herz uber das Ungluck des Landes trauert, dass ich die Drangsale des Krieges beweine, und von ganzer Seele die Ruckkehr des Friedens wunsche. Selbst Sie, Sire, werden vielleicht denken, es schicke sich besser fur mich, mich in der Kunst zu gefallen zu uben, oder mich nur um hausliche Angelegenheiten zu bekummern. Allein dem seye wie ihm wolle, so fuhlt mein Herz zu sehr fur diese Unglucklichen, um eine dringende Furbitte fur dieselben zuruck zu halten.
"Seit wenigen Jahren hatte dieses Land die angenehmste Gestalt gewonnen. Man traf keine verodete Stellen an. Alles war angebaut. Das Landvolk sah vergnugt aus, und in den Stadten herrschte Wohlstand und Freude. Aber welch' eine Veranderung gegen eine so angenehme Scene! Ich bin in partheischen Beschreibungen nicht erfahren, noch weniger kann ich die Grauel der Verwilstung mit erdichteten Schilderungen schrecklicher darstellen. Allein gewiss selbst Krieger, welche ein edles Herz und Gefuhl besitzen, wurden durch den Anblick dieser Scenen zu Thranen bewegt werden. Das ganze Land, mein werthes Vaterland, liegt da gleich einer Wuste. Der Ackerbau und die Viehzucht haben aufgehort. Der Bauer und der Hirt sind Soldaten worden, und in den Stadten sieht man nur Greise, Weiber, und Kinder, vielleicht noch hie und da einen jungen Mann, der aber durch empfangene Wunden ein Kruppel ist und den ihn umgebenden kleinen Knaben die Geschichte einer jeden Wunde mit einem so pathetischen Heldenton erzahlt, dassihr Herz schon der Trommel folgt, ehe sie recht gehen konnen. Was aber das Elend auf den hochsten Gipfel bringt, sind die immer abwechselnden Vorruckungen und Zuruckziehungen beider Armeen, da selbst die, so sich unsre Freunde nennen, beim Abzuge alles mitnehmen und verheeren, und wenn sie wieder kommen, gleich viel wieder herbei geschafft haben wollen. Von Dero Gerechtigkeit, Sire, hoffen wir Hulfe in dieser aussersten Noth. An Sie, Sire, mogen auch Frauen, ja selbst Kinder ihre Klagen bringen. Sie, die sich auch zur niedrigsten Klasse gutigst herablassen, und dadurch, wenn es moglich ist, noch grosser werden, als selbst durch ihre Siege, werden die meinigen nicht unerhort lassen und, zur Ehre Dero eigenen Ruhmes, Bedruckungen und Drangsalen abhelfen, welche wider alle Menschenliebe und wider alle gute Kriegszucht streiten. Ich bin &c."
"MAY IT PLEASE YOUR MAJESTY, "I am at a loss whether I shall congratulate or condole with you on your late victory; since the same success that has covered you with laurels has overspread the Couutry of MecklenburgH with desolation. I know, Sire, that it seems unbecoming my sex, in this age of vicious refinement, to feel for one's Country, to lament the horrors of war, or wish for the return of peace. I know you may think it more properly my province to study the art of pleasing, or to turn my thoughts to subjects of a more domestic nature: but, however unbecoming it may be in me, I can't resist the desire of interceding for this unhappy people.
"It was but a very few years ago that this territory wore the most pleasing appearance. The Country was cultivated, the peasant looked cheerful, and the towns abounded with riches and festivity. What an alteration at present from such a charming scene! I am not expert at description, nor can my fancy add any horrors to the picture; but sure even conquerors themselves would weep at the hideous prospect now before me. The whole Country, my dear Country, lies one frightful waste, presenting only objects to excite terror, pity and despair. The business of the husbandman and the shepherd are quite discontinued; the husbandman and the shepherd are become soldiers themselves, and help to ravage the soil they formerly occupied. The towns are inhabited only by old men, women and children; perhaps here and there a warrior, by wounds and loss of limbs rendered unfit for service, left at his door; his little children hang round him, ask a history of every wound, and grow themselves soldiers before they find strength for the field. But this were nothing, did we not feel the alternate insolence of either army, as it happens to advance or retreat. It is impossible to express the confusion, even those who call themselves our friends create. Even those from whom we might expect redress, oppress us with new calamities. From your justice, therefore, it is that we hope relief; to you even children and women may complain, whose humanity stoops to the meanest petition, and whose power is capable of repressing the greatest injustice.