Chapter XIV: Part 14

As Peter was yet so young, he left everything in the hands of his counsellors, and for several years took merely a formal part in the administration. He employed himself in military exercises and boat-building, and in the indulgence of his mechanical tastes. As Peter grew older, and took more direction of the affairs of the government, he made choice of two very able men, whom he afterwards raised to positions of great honor. The name of one of these statesmen was Le Fort, and the other was Menshikóf. Le Fort was the son of a merchant of Geneva. He had from childhood evinced a strong desire to be a soldier; but his father preferred that he should become a merchant, and he was taken into the counting-house of one of the great merchants of Amsterdam. This merchant was constantly sending vessels to different parts of the world, and Le Fort was sent in charge of the cargo of one vessel to Copenhagen. At this time, an ambassador was to be sent from Denmark to Russia; and, as Le Fort knew something of the Russian language, he secured the place of interpreter in the suite of the ambassador, and went with him to Moscow. On one occasion, when the Czar Peter was dining at the house of the ambassador, he noticed Le Fort, and observed that he spoke the Russian language remarkably for a foreigner. He was at once interested in him, and soon secured Le Fort as his own interpreter, as he found that he also spoke other languages. Le Fort became a great favorite of the emperor’s, and continued in his service until his death. The first improvement which Le Fort introduced into Russia related to the dress and equipment of the troops. The imperial guards had been accustomed to wear an old-fashioned Russian uniform, consisting of a long outer coat or gown, which much impeded their movements. In conversing with the Czar, Le Fort suggested that the dress of the soldiers of the western nations was more convenient for military use. Peter at once desired to see it; and Le Fort immediately repaired to the tailor of the Danish ambassador, and ordered him to make two military suits in the style worn by the royal guards at Copenhagen, one for an officer and the other for a soldier in the ranks. Peter was so pleased with these suits, when they were shown to him, that he said he should like to have a company of guards dressed and equipped in that manner, and drilled according to the western style. Le Fort undertook the task of organizing and equipping such a band. When this company was completed, and clothed in the new uniform, and had been properly drilled, Le Fort placed himself at their head, and marched them, with drums beating and colors flying, before the palace gates. The Czar came to the window to see them pass, and was so pleased that he said he would join the company himself. He accordingly ordered a dress to be made for his own use, and he took his place in the ranks, and drilled as a common soldier. From this beginning, the entire imperial army was reformed. The Czar now proposed to Le Fort to make arrangements for bringing into the country a great number of mechanics and artisans from Denmark, Germany, France, and other European countries, in order that their improved methods might be introduced into Russia. To accomplish this end, the tariff of duties on the products and manufactures of foreign countries was greatly reduced. This increased the importation of goods from foreign countries, and promoted the intercourse of the Russians with foreign merchants, manufacturers, and artisans, and accustomed the people to a better style of living by improving their dress, furniture, and equipages. Also, the new system greatly increased the revenues of the empire. Among other reforms instituted by Peter, was that of the dress of his people. The Russians had been accustomed to wear long gowns, similar to those worn now in Oriental countries. As this costume was inconvenient for soldiers, workmen, and artisans, Peter required it to be changed. This description is given of one strange style of dress among the ancient Russian ladies:—

“They wore a sort of dress, of which the sleeves were ten or twelve yards long. These sleeves were made very full, and were drawn up upon the arm, in a sort of puff; it being the fashion to have as great a length of sleeve as could possibly be crowded on, between the shoulder and the wrist. The customary salutation between ladies and gentlemen in society, when this dress was in fashion, was performed through the intervention of the sleeves. On the approach of the gentleman, the lady, by a sudden and dexterous motion of her arm, would throw off the end of her sleeve to him. The sleeve, being so very long, could be thrown in this way half across the room. The gentleman would take the end of the sleeve which represented, we are to suppose, the hand of the lady, and, after kissing and saluting it in a most respectful manner, he would resign it, and the lady would draw it back again upon her arm.”

Peter required the people to change this dress, and he sent patterns of the coats worn in Western Europe, to all parts of the country. He, however, met with a good deal of difficulty in inducing the people to follow these new fashions, especially regarding the shaving of their mustaches and beards. He thereupon assessed a tax upon beards, requiring every gentleman who wore one to pay a hundred rubles a year; and if any peasant entered the city wearing a beard, he was stopped at the gates, and rerequired to pay a fine of a penny. The officers of the customs, who were stationed at the gates of the towns, were ordered to stop every man who wore a long dress, and compel him to pay a fine of fifty cents, or else kneel down, and have all the part of his coat which lay upon the ground cut off with a pair of big shears. The Czar first set an example also, of rapid motion through the streets. It had been the custom for all the nobles to move about attended by a vast retinue; and as it was considered more stately to move slowly, and as all those lower in rank must stand, with uncovered heads, in the presence of their masters, the streets were often blocked in the snow and rain by these vast cavalcades of royalty; and crowds were obliged to stand in the cold and wet, with bare heads exposed to the inclemency of the weather. Peter the Great was attended, therefore, only by a few persons, when going out in carriage or sleigh, and his coachman was ordered to drive at a quick pace; and he limited the attendants of his nobles to a certain number. This story is told of the manner in which the Czar’s attention was attracted to young Menshikóf, who became one of his chief officers. Alexander Menshikóf was the son of a laboring man, in the service of a monastery, on the banks of the Volga. Young Menshikóf afterwards went to Moscow, and was there employed in a pastry-cook’s shop. It was his part of the work to go out in the streets and sell pies and cakes. In order to attract customers, he often sang songs. At one time Peter was passing, and stopped to listen to the songs of the young pastry-boy. Finally, the Czar asked him what he would take for his whole stock of cakes and pies, basket and all. The boy promptly stated the sum he would take for his wares, but as for the basket, as it belonged to his master, he could not sell it; but he dryly added: “Still, everything belongs to Your Majesty, and Your Majesty has, therefore, only to give me the command, and I shall deliver it up to you.”

This reply so pleased the Czar, that he took the boy into his service. When Peter the Great first became the sole ruler of Russia, after the downfall of Sophia, he was about twenty years of age. His word was law. Life and death hung upon his will. His dominions extended so far, that, when he wished to send an ambassador to one of his neighbors—the emperor of China—it took the messenger more than eighteen months of constant travelling to go from the capital to the frontier. As to Peter’s character, he was talented, ambitious, energetic, and resolute; but he was also quick-tempered, imperious, merciless, towards his enemies, and possessed an indomitable will. Peter thus describes his first trial of the open sea:—

“For some years I had the fill of my desires on Lake Pereyaslávl, but finally it grew too narrow for me. I then went to the Kúbensky Lake, but that was too shallow. I then decided to see the open sea, and began often to beg the permission of my mother to go to Archangel. She forbade me such a dangerous journey, but, seeing my great desire, and my unchangeable longing, allowed it, in spite of herself.”

So, in 1693, Peter set out from Moscow, with a suite of a hundred persons, to go to Archangel. Having arrived there, the smell of the salt water was too inviting to be resisted; and Peter put out to sea on a little yacht, called St. Peter, which had been built for him. His mother, who had exacted a promise that he would not go to sea, hearing that he had gone on a sea journey, was much alarmed, and wrote to him, urging his return. She even had a letter written to him, in the name of his little son, Alexis, then three years old, begging him to come back. To this he replied:—

“By thy letter I see, oh! oh! that thou hast been mightily grieved, and why? Why dost thou trouble thyself about me? Thou hast deigned to write that thou hast given me into the care of the Virgin. When thou hast such a guardian for me, why dost thou grieve?”

While at Archangel, besides the time which Peter gave to the study of commerce and ship-building, he found leisure for inspecting various industries and for practising both at the forge and at the lathe. A chandelier made of walrus teeth, turned by him, hangs now over his tomb in the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul, at St. Petersburg; and carved work in bone and wood, and iron bars forged by him at this time, are still preserved. Besides the balls and dinners which he attended at Archangel, to which he had also been much given at Moscow, he frequently attended a neighboring church, where he himself read the Epistle, sang with the choir, and made great friends with the archbishop. In 1694 his mother Natalia died, and soon he repudiated his wife Eudoxia and shut her up in a convent, where he kept her confined all the rest of her life. Peter had only married this wife to please his mother and his nobles, and having never loved her, soon tired of her. She had been brought up in the old-fashioned Russian way, and was very ignorant; but as she appeared to love him devotedly, his treatment of her was wicked and cruel, and in his after domestic life there is much to condemn. Although he did much for the advancement of Russia, and his public enterprise and achievements are greatly to be admired, in character he was brutal and selfish, and his tastes were low and vicious. He was fond of drunken carousals, and sank the dignity of his rank in his associations with inferior and profligate companions. As a man, there is little to admire in him, but as a public benefactor of his country, he is greatly to be commended. As an artisan, statesman, and general, he introduced wise and good reforms into his realms, and raised his people from semi-barbarism to rank with the other civilized nations of Europe.

Though he was not a scholar, he encouraged learning. There was, about this time, a second attempt made to assassinate the Czar. As Peter was often accustomed to attend conflagrations in Moscow, these conspirators formed the plan of setting fire to some building near the royal palace, and when the emperor, as was his wont, should come out to help extinguish the flames, he was to be assassinated. They then determined to go to the convent where Sophia was confined, release her, and proclaim her empress. This plot was, however, revealed to the Czar, and he thereupon ordered a small body of men to attend him, and he went at once to the houses of the various conspirators and arrested them. They were afterwards executed in a most barbarous manner. The criminals were brought out one by one. First their arms were cut off, then their legs, and finally their heads. The amputated limbs and heads were then hung upon a column in the market-place in Moscow, where they were left as a bloody warning to others, as long as the weather remained cold enough to keep them frozen. Thus ended the second conspiracy against the life of Peter the Great. In 1695 the Czar, in conjunction with other European powers, declared war again against the Turks and Tartars. Peter acquired great renown throughout Europe for his successful siege against Azof, to obtain which was one of the chief objects of the campaign. This success also increased Peter’s interest in the building of ships. He determined to establish a large fleet on the Black Sea, and in order to ascertain the best modes of ship-building, Peter resolved to make a journey to Western Europe.

That he might not be burdened by fêtes and ceremonies, he adopted a disguise. Macaulay said of this journey, “It is an epoch in the history, not only of his own country, but of ours and of the world.”

Various reasons have been given by different writers for this step of the Czar. Pleyer, the secret Austrian agent, wrote to the Emperor Leopold that the whole embassy was “merely a cloak for the freedom sought by the Czar, to get out of his own country and divert himself a little.” A document in the archives at Vienna states that the “cause of the journey was a vow made by Peter, when in danger on the White Sea, to make a pilgrimage to the tombs of the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul at Rome.” Voltaire said, “He resolved to absent himself for some years from his dominions, in order to learn how better to govern them.” Napoleon said, “He left his country to deliver himself for a while from the crown, so as to learn ordinary life, and remount by degrees to greatness.” But later writers say, “Peter went abroad, not to fulfil a vow, not to amuse himself, not to become more civilized, not to learn the art of government, but simply to become a good shipwright.”

His mind was filled with the idea of creating a navy on the Black Sea, and his tastes had always been mechanical. In order to give the Czar greater freedom of action, the purpose of his journey was concealed by means of a great embassy, which should visit the chief countries of western Europe. In the suite of the ambassadors were twenty nobles and thirty-five called volunteers, who were going for the study of ship-building. Among these was the Czar himself. These volunteers were chiefly young men who had been comrades of Peter in his play-regiments and boat-building. During the absence of the Czar the government was intrusted to a regency of three persons, the uncle of the Czar and two princes. We have not space to describe this journey in full, and can only mention certain incidents. The Czar is thus described by the electress of Hannover and her daughter, whom Peter met at Koppenbrügge:—

“My mother and I began to pay him our compliments, but he made Mr. Le Fort reply for him, for he seemed shy, hid his face in his hands, and said, ‘_Ich kann nicht sprechen_.’ But we tamed him a little, and then he sat down at the table between my mother and myself, and each of us talked to him in turn. Sometimes he replied with promptitude, at others, he made two interpreters talk, and assuredly he said nothing that was not to the point on all subjects that were suggested. As to his grimaces, I imagined them worse than I found them, and some are not in his power to correct. One can see also that he has had no one to teach him how to eat properly, but he has a natural unconstrained air which pleases me.”

Her mother also wrote: “The Czar is very tall, his features are fine, and his figure very noble. He has great vivacity of mind, and a ready and just repartee. But, with all the advantages with which nature has endowed him, it could be wished that his manners were a little less rustic. I asked him if he liked hunting. He replied that his father had been very fond of it, but that he himself, from his earliest youth, had had a real passion for navigation and for fireworks. He told us that he worked himself in building ships, showed us his hands, and made us touch the callous places that had been made by work. He has quite the manners of his country. If he had received a better education, he would be an accomplished man, for he has many good qualities, and an infinite amount of native wit.”

The Czar proceeded to Holland, and in the little town of Saardam, not far from Amsterdam, may still be seen the shop which Peter occupied while there. The historians say, he entered himself as a common ship-carpenter, at Amsterdam, and worked for several months among the other workmen, wearing the same dress they wore. In moments of rest, the Czar, sitting down on a log, with his hatchet between his knees, was willing to talk to any one who addressed him simply as carpenter Peter, but turned away without answering if called Sire or Your Majesty. Peter’s curiosity was insatiable. He visited workshops, factories, cabinets of coins, anatomical museums, botanical gardens, hospitals, theatres, and numerous other places; and inquired about everything he saw, until he was recognized by his usual questions, “What is that for? How does that work? That will I see.” He made himself acquainted with Dutch home and family life. Every market day he went to the Botermarkt, mingled with the people, and studied their trades.

He took lessons from a travelling dentist, and experimented on his servants. He mended his own clothes, and learned enough of cobbling to make himself a pair of slippers. He visited Protestant churches, and did not forget the beer-houses. The frigate upon which Peter worked so long, was at last launched, and proved a good ship. He had seen some English ships which pleased him so much, that he determined to set out for England, which he did in 1698, leaving his embassy in Holland.

King William of England made Peter a present of an English yacht, with which he was much delighted. Peter spent much of his time in England, looking for suitable persons to employ in arts and mechanics in Russia. He avoided all court pomp and etiquette during this journey, and travelled incognito, as much as possible. He visited also the mint in England, for he was pleased with the excellence of the English coinage, and he designed recoining the Russian money, which he afterwards accomplished, coining copper, silver, and gold to the extent of $18,000,000 in the space of three years, to replace the bits of stamped leather formerly used. At length he returned to Amsterdam, where his embassy awaited him. When Peter the Great was excited by anger or emotion, the ugly aspect of his countenance and demeanor was greatly aggravated by a nervous affection of the head and face, which attacked him, particularly when he was in a passion, and which produced convulsive twitches of the muscles, that drew his head by jerks to one side, and distorted his face in a manner dreadful to behold. It was said that this disorder was first induced in his childhood, by some one of the terrible frights through which he passed. This distortion, together with the coarse and savage language he employed when in a passion, made him appear at times more like some ugly monster of fiction than like a man. He disliked court etiquette, and avoided pompous ceremonies. Of course there was much curiosity to see him in the various cities he visited, but he generally avoided the crowds; and when his splendid embassy entered a city in royal state, and the people collected in vast numbers to behold the famous Czar, while they were straining their eyes, and peering into every carriage of the royal procession in hopes of seeing him, Peter himself would slip into the city by some quiet street, in disguise, and meeting the merchants, with whom he delighted to associate, he would go to some inn and indulge in his pipe and beer, leaving his embassy to represent royalty. At last his disguise was discovered, and then the news was circulated that the Czar could be easily recognized by his great height,—nearly seven feet,—by the twitching of his face, by his gesturing with his right hand, and by a small mole on the right cheek. His appearance is thus described by one who saw him at this time:—

“He is a prince of very great stature, but there is one circumstance which is unpleasant. He has convulsions, sometimes in his eyes, sometimes in his arms, and sometimes in his whole body. He at times turns his eyes so that one can see nothing but the whites. I do not know whence it arises, but we must believe that it is a lack of good breeding. Then he has also movements in the legs, so that he can scarcely keep in one place. He is very well made, and goes about dressed as a sailor, in the highest degree simple, and wishing nothing else than to be on the water.”

But the Cardinal Kollonitz, primate of Hungary, gives a more flattering picture of Peter the Great:—

“The Czar is a youth of from twenty-eight to thirty years of age, is tall, of an olive complexion, rather stout than thin, in aspect between proud and grave, and with a lively countenance. His left eye, as well as his left arm and leg, were injured by the poison given him during the life of his brother; but there remain now only a fixed and fascinated look in his eye, and a constant movement of his arm and leg, to hide which, he accompanies this forced motion with continual movements of his entire body, which, by many people in the countries which he has visited, has been attributed to natural causes, but really it is artificial. His wit is lively and ready; his manners rather civil than barbarous, the journey he has made having improved him, and the difference from the beginning of his travels and the present time being visible, although his native roughness may still be seen in him; but it is chiefly noticeable in his followers, whom he holds in check with great severity. He has a knowledge of geography and history, and, what is most to be noticed, he desires to know these subjects better; but his strongest inclination is for maritime affairs, at which he himself works mechanically, as he did in Holland; and this work, according to many people who have to do with him, is indispensable to divert the effects of the poison, which still very much troubles him. In person and in aspect, as well as in his manners, there is nothing which would distinguish him or declare him to be a prince.”

(From Original Copperplate Engraving.)]

During his visit to Paris, the Czar often astonished the polite Parisians. “On one occasion he went with the duke of Orleans to the opera, where he sat on the front bench of the large box. During the performance the Czar asked if he could not have some beer. A large goblet on a saucer was immediately brought. The regent rose, took it, and presented it to the Czar, who, with a smile and bow of politeness, took the goblet without any ceremony, drank, and put it back on the saucer, which the regent kept holding. The duke then took a plate with a napkin, which he presented to the Czar, who, without rising, made use of it, at which scene the audience seemed astonished.”

Notwithstanding his rough manners, the history, character, and achievements of the Czar, together with his exact knowledge in so many directions, and his interest in everything that was scientific and technical, made a deep impression upon those who met him. St. Simon thus describes him: “He was a very tall man, well made, not too stout, with a roundish face, a high forehead, and fine eyebrows, a short nose—but not too short—large at the end; his lips were rather thick, his complexion a ruddy brown; fine black eyes, large, lively, piercing, and well apart; a majestic and gracious look when he wished, otherwise severe and stern, with a twitching which did not often return, but which disturbed his look and his whole expression, and inspired fear. That lasted but a moment, accompanied by a wild and terrible look, and passed away as quickly. His whole air showed his intellect, his reflection, and his greatness, and did not lack a certain grace. He wore only a linen collar, a round brown peruke without powder, which did not touch his shoulders; a brown, tight-fitting coat, plain, with gold buttons; a waistcoat, breeches, stockings, no gloves nor cuffs; the star of his order on his coat, and the ribbon underneath, his coat often quite unbuttoned; his hat on a table, and never on his head even out of doors. With all this simplicity, and whatever bad carriage or company he might be, one could not fail to perceive the air of greatness that was natural to him.”

While at Vienna, Peter learned of another revolt of the Streltsi, and thereupon hastened back to Moscow to put down the insurrection. The rebellion was soon quelled; but the tortures and executions which followed were barbarous. Some were beheaded; some were broken on the wheel, and then left to die in horrible agonies; many were buried alive, their heads only being left above the ground. It is said that Peter took such a savage delight in these punishments that he executed many of the victims with his own hand. At one time, when half intoxicated, at a banquet, he ordered twenty prisoners to be brought in, and between his drinks of brandy cut off their heads himself, being an hour in cutting off the twenty heads.

As Peter thought Sophia was implicated in this revolt, he ordered the arm of the ringleader of the plot to be cut off, and an address which he found, written to Sophia, to be placed in the stiffened hand, and by his order this ghastly relic was fastened to the wall in Sophia’s apartment. When the trials were over, a decree was issued, abolishing the Streltsi; and they were all sent into exile. Peter was now involved in a war with Sweden for the possession of the eastern shore of the Baltic Sea. At first, the Swedes were victorious; but in about a year the Czar gained possession of a considerable portion of the Baltic shore, and he thereupon determined to build a new city there, with the view of making it the naval and commercial capital of his kingdom. This plan was successfully carried out, and the building of the great city of St. Petersburg was one of the most important events in the reign of Peter the Great.

At length, Charles XII., king of Sweden, began to be alarmed at the increasing power of the Czar in that part of the country, and he invaded Russia with an army. The famous battle of Pultowa, by which the invasion of the Swedes was repelled, was fought in 1709; and this was almost the only serious danger from any foreign source which threatened the dominions of Peter the Great during his reign.

Peter, having been previously privately married to Catherine, determined, in 1712, to have a public ceremony. Peter’s first wife had one son, Alexis, who occasioned his father the most serious trouble. Alexis was indolent and most vicious in his habits of life; and so outrageous was his conduct that at last his father caused him to be imprisoned. It was then discovered that Alexis had been planning a revolt, and Peter referred his case to a grand council of civil authorities, and also a convocation of the clergy to determine upon the sentence to be pronounced upon this rebellious son. The council declared that he was worthy of death, and the Czar confirmed the judgment of the council, and a day was appointed on which Alexis was to be arraigned in order that sentence of death might be solemnly pronounced upon him. But before the appointed day arrived, Alexis was attacked with convulsions, caused by his terror; and the Czar visited him in the fortress where he was dying.

The dying prince besought forgiveness of his father with such prayers and tears that Peter and his ministers were overcome with emotion. The Czar gave Alexis his forgiveness and his blessing, and took his leave with tears and lamentations. Soon after, Alexis expired. The funeral rites were performed by the Czar and his family with much solemnity. At the service in the church a funeral sermon was pronounced by the priest from the appropriate text, “O Absalom! my son! my son Absalom!” Thus ended this dreadful tragedy.

The heir to the throne was now the little son of Catherine, Peter Petrowitz. The birth of this son, which occurred about three years before the death of Alexis, was such a delight to Peter the Great that he celebrated the event with public rejoicings. At the baptism of the babe, two kings—those of Denmark and of Prussia—acted as godfathers. The christening was attended with most gorgeous banquets. Among other curious contrivances were two enormous pies,—one served in the room of the gentlemen and the other in that of the ladies. From the ladies’ pie, there stepped out, when it was opened, a young dwarf, very small, and clothed in a fantastic manner. The dwarf brought out with him from the pie some glasses and a bottle of wine, and he walked around the table, drinking to the health of the ladies, who were intensely amused by his droll manners. In the gentlemen’s room the pie was similar, from which a female dwarf stepped forth and performed the same ceremony. Peter the Great was much attached to his wife Catherine, whose romantic life we have not space to describe. Her influence over the Czar was most beneficial.

About a year after the death of Alexis, the little Peter Petrowitz, the idolized son of the Czar, also died. Peter the Great was completely overwhelmed with grief at this new calamity. Even Catherine, who usually had power to soothe his fits of frenzy, anger, or grief, and whose touch would often stop the contortions of his face, could not comfort him now; for the sight of her only reminded him more keenly of his loss. It was feared at this time that grief would kill the Czar; for he shut himself up alone, and would not allow any one to come near him for three days and nights. Peter the Great, however, lived sixteen years after this event. During these last years he continued the reforms in his empire and increased the power and influence of his government among surrounding nations. As both of his sons were dead, he determined to leave the government in the hands of Catherine, and she was crowned empress with most imposing ceremonies. In less than a year after this event, the Czar was attacked with a sudden illness during the ceremonies of rejoicings connected with the betrothal of one of his daughters to a foreign duke. His death took place on the 28th of January, 1725. Another of his daughters having died a short time after her father, their bodies were interred together. The funeral obsequies were so protracted, and were conducted with so much pomp and ceremony, that six weeks elapsed before the remains of Peter the Great were finally committed to the tomb. The fame of Peter the Great differs from that attained by other famous rulers of the world; for it was not consequent upon renowned foreign conquests, but the triumph which Peter achieved was the commencement of a work of internal improvement and reform which now, after a century and a half has passed, is still going on.

FREDERICK THE GREAT.

A.D. 1712-1786.

“Kings are like stars,—they rise and set, they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.”—SHELLEY.

“A man’s a man;
But when you see a king, you see the work
Of many thousand men.”—GEORGE ELIOT.

CARLYLE accused Schiller of “oversetting fact, disregarding reality, and tumbling time and space topsy-turvy.” That there is great danger of doing the latter, in condensing such a life as that of Frederick the Great into the small space allotted to these sketches, cannot be denied; but fiction itself could scarcely overstate the facts connected with this weird but most fascinating glimpse of historical events. Carlyle says: “With such wagon-loads of books and printed records as exist on the subject of Frederick, it has always seemed possible, even for a stranger, to acquire some real understanding of him; though practically, here and now, I have to own it proves difficult beyond conception. Alas! the books are not cosmic; they are chaotic.”

True it is, it is not want of material, but the overwhelming multiplicity of documents, which renders it difficult to trace out a clear-cut sketch of Frederick the Great; and that we may do it more concisely, and yet entertainingly, a series of panoramic pictures will perhaps be the best method of achieving the desired end.

“About one hundred years ago there used to be seen sauntering on the terraces of Sans Souci for a short time in the afternoon—or you might have met him elsewhere at an earlier hour, riding or driving in a rapid business manner on the open roads, or through the scraggy woods and avenues of that intricate, amphibious Potsdam region—a highly interesting, lean little old man, of alert though slightly stooping figure, whose name among strangers was _King Friedrich the Second_, or Frederick the Great of Prussia, and at home among the common people, who much loved and esteemed him, was _Vater Fritz_, Father Fred.

“He is a king, every inch of him, though without the trappings of a king. He presents himself in a Spartan simplicity of vesture: no crown but an old military cocked hat, generally old, or trampled and kneaded into absolute softness if new; no sceptre but one like Agamemnon’s—a walking-stick cut from the woods, which serves also as a riding-stick; and for royal robes a mere soldier’s blue coat with red facings, coat likely to be old, and sure to have a good deal of Spanish snuff on the breast of it; rest of the apparel dim, unobtrusive in color or cut, ending in high over-knee military boots, which may be brushed, but are not permitted to be blackened or varnished.

“The man is not of god-like physiognomy, any more than of imposing stature or costume: close-shut mouth with thin lips, prominent jaws and nose, receding brow, by no means of Olympian height; head, however, is of long form, and has superlative gray eyes in it; not what is called a beautiful man, nor yet, by all appearance, what is called a happy. The face bears evidence of many sorrows, of much hard labor done in this world. Quiet stoicism, great unconscious, and some conscious, pride, well tempered with a cheery mockery of humor, are written on that old face, which carries its chin well forward in spite of the slight stoop about the neck; snuffy nose rather flung into the air, under its old cocked hat, like an old snuffy lion on the watch, and such a pair of eyes as no man, or lion, or lynx, of that century bore elsewhere. Those eyes, which, at the bidding of his great soul, fascinated you with seduction or with terror; most excellent, potent, brilliant eyes, swift-darting as the stars, steadfast as the sun; gray, we said, of the azure-gray color; large enough, not of glaring size; the habitual expression of them vigilance and penetrating sense, and gives us the notion of a lambent outer radiance springing from some great inner sea of light and fire in the man. The voice, if he speak to you, is clear, melodious, and sonorous; all tones are in it: ingenuous inquiry, graceful sociality, light-flowing banter up to definite word of command, up to desolating word of rebuke and reprobation.”

Such is the picture of Frederick the Great in his later days; but now we will turn back our panoramic views, and behold the setting of his early years: and, to a clearer understanding of those events, an aid may be found in glancing at his native country, Prussia. For many centuries the country on the southern coasts of the Baltic Sea was inhabited by wild tribes of barbarians, almost as savage as the beasts which roamed in their forests. After a time the tribes, tamed and partly civilized, produced a race of tall and manly proportions, fair in complexion, with flaxen hair, stern aspect, great physical strength, and most formidable foes in battle. Centuries passed, of which history notes only wars and woes, when from this chaotic barbarism order emerged. Small states were organized, and a political life began. In 1700 one of the petty provinces was called the Marquisate of Brandenburg, whose marquis was Frederick, of the family of Hohenzollern. To the east of this province was a duchy, called Prussia, which was at length added to the domains of Frederick, the marquis of Brandenburg, and he obtained from the emperor of Germany the recognition of his dominions as a kingdom, and assumed the title of Frederick I. of Prussia. On the 16th of November, 1700, his ambassador returned triumphantly from Vienna. “The Kaiser has consented; we are to wear a royal crown on the top of our periwig.” Thus Prussia became a kingdom. When Frederick was crowned king of Prussia, most gorgeous was the pomp, most royal was the grandeur, of the imposing ceremonies. Carlyle says:—

“The magnificence of Frederick’s processionings into Konigsburg, and of his coronation ceremonials there, what pen can describe it! what pen need! Folio volumes with copper-plates have been written on it, and are not yet all pasted in band-boxes or slit into spills. ‘The diamond buttons of his majesty’s coat’ (snuff-colored or purple, I cannot recollect) cost £1,500 apiece. By this one feature judge what an expensive Herr. Streets were hung with cloth, carpeted with cloth, no end of draperies and cloth; your oppressed imagination feels as if there was cloth enough of scarlet and other bright colors to thatch the Arctic Zone; with illuminations, cannon-salvos, fountains running wine. Frederick himself put the crown on his head, ‘King here in my own right, after all,’ and looked his royalest, we may fancy,—the kind eyes of him, almost fierce for moments, and the ‘cheerfulness of pride’ well blending with something of awful.”

And now we must hang up the picture of Frederick the grandfather, for there has another Frederick come to claim our attention. “Courage, poor old grandfather! Poor old man! he got his own back half broken by a careless nurse letting him fall, and has slightly stooped ever since, much against his will, for he would fain have been beautiful. But here is a new edition of a Frederick, the first having gone off with so little effect. This one’s back is still unbroken. Who knows but Heaven may be kinder to this one? Heaven was much kinder to this one. Him Heaven had kneaded of a more potent stuff; a mighty fellow, this one, and a strange; of a swift, far-darting nature this one, like an Apollo clad in sunbeams and in lightnings, and with a back which all the world could not succeed in breaking.”

Between the old grandfather and this famous Frederick there hangs the picture of still another Frederick, only a little less famous,—Frederick Wilhelm, crown prince of Prussia when his famous son was born, afterwards second king of Prussia, and withal most ferocious in his nature, part bear and part maniac; his picture is thus graphically sketched.

“The new monarch, who assumed the crown with the title of Frederick William, not with that of Frederick II., to the utter consternation of the court dismissed nearly every honorary official of the palace, from the highest dignitary to the humblest page. His flashing eye and determined manner were so appalling that no one ventured to remonstrate. A clean sweep was made, so that the household was reduced to the lowest footing of economy consistent with the supply of indispensable wants. Eight servants were retained at six shillings a week. His father had thirty pages; all were dismissed but three. There were one thousand saddle-horses in the royal stables; Frederick William kept thirty. Three-fourths of the names were struck from the pension list. For twenty-seven years this strange man reigned. He was like no other monarch. Great wisdom and shrewdness were blended with unutterable folly and almost maniacal madness. Though a man of strong powers of mind, he was very illiterate. ‘For spelling, grammar, penmanship, and composition, his semi-articulate papers resemble nothing else extant,—are as if done by the paw of a bear; indeed, the utterance generally sounds more like the growling of a bear than anything that could be handily spelled or parsed. But there is a decisive human sense in the heart of it, and such a dire hatred of empty bladders, unrealities, and hypocritical forms and pretenses, which he calls wind and humbug, as is very strange indeed.’

“His energy inspired the whole kingdom, and paved the way for the achievements of his son. The father created the machine with which the son attained such wonderful results. He commuted the old feudal service into a fixed money payment. He goaded the whole realm into industry, compelling even the apple-women to knit at the stalls.

“The crown lands were farmed out. He drained bogs, planted colonies, established manufactures, and in every way encouraged the use of Prussian products. He carried with him invariably a stout rattan cane. Upon the slightest provocation, like a madman, he would thrash those who displeased him. He was an arbitrary king, ruling at his sovereign will, and disposing of the liberty, the property, and the lives of his subjects at his pleasure. Every year he accumulated large masses of coin, which he deposited in barrels in the cellar of his palace. He had no powers of graceful speech, but spent his energetic, joyless life in grumbling and growling. He would allow no drapery, no stuffed furniture, no carpets in his apartments. He sat upon a plain wooden chair. He ate roughly of roast beef, despising all delicacies. His dress was a close military blue coat, with red cuffs and collar, buff waistcoat and breeches, and white linen gaiters to the knee. His sword was belted around his waist. A well-worn, battered triangular hat covered his head. He walked rapidly through the streets which surrounded his palaces at Potsdam and Berlin. If he met any one, he would abruptly inquire, ‘Who are you?’ When his majesty took a walk, every human being fled before him, as if a tiger had broken loose from a menagerie. If he met a lady in the street, he gave her a kick, and told her to go home and mind her children. If he saw a clergyman staring at the soldiers, he admonished the reverend gentleman to betake himself to study and prayer, and enforced his pious advice by a sound caning administered on the spot. But it was in his own house that he was most unreasonable and ferocious. His palace was hell, and he the most execrable of fiends.”

And now we will turn this unlovely picture of the bearish Frederick William to the wall, while we examine a portrait of the young Fritz, afterwards Frederick the Great.

In the palace of Berlin, on the 24th of January, 1712, a small infant opened its eyes upon this world. Though small, he was of great promise and possibility, “and thrice and four times welcome to all sovereign and other persons in the Prussian court and Prussian realms in those cold winter days. His father, they say, was like to have stifled him with his caresses, so overjoyed was the man, or at least to have scorched him in the blaze of the fire, when happily some much suitabler female nurse snatched this little creature from the rough paternal paws, and saved it for the benefit of Prussia and mankind.”

Then they christened this wee fellow, aged one week, with immense magnificence and pomp of ceremony, Karl Frederick; but the Karl dropped altogether out of practice, and Frederick (_Rich in Peace_) became his only title; until his father became king of Prussia, and Fritz stepped into the rank of crown prince, and subsequently became the most renowned sovereign of his nation, and took his place in the foremost rank of the famous rulers of the world.

Frederick William had married, when eighteen years of age, his pretty cousin, Sophie Dorothee, daughter of George I. of England. Little Fritz had an elder sister, named Wilhelmina. There were several younger children afterwards, but our story mostly concerns Fritz and his sister Wilhelmina, for whom he showed greater affection than for any other person.

Frederick William was very desirous that Fritz should be a soldier, but the beautiful laughing Fritz, with his long golden curls and sensitive nature, was fonder of books and music than of war and soldiering, which much offended his stern father; and so great was his abhorrence of such a feminine employment as he esteemed music, that little Fritz and Wilhelmina must needs practice in secret; and had it not been for the aid of their mother, the Queen Sophie Dorothee, they would have been denied this great pleasure. But the music-masters were sent to the forests or caves by the queen, and there the prince Fritz and Wilhelmina took their much-prized music-lessons. But one day the stern king found Fritz and Wilhelmina marching around together, while the laughing prince was proudly beating a drum, much to his own and sister’s delight. The king was so overjoyed at this manifestation of supposed military taste in his son, that he immediately called the queen to witness the performance, and then employed an artist to transfer the scene to canvas. This picture still hangs upon the walls of the Charlottenburg Palace.

When Fritz was but six years old, a military company was organized for him, consisting of about three hundred lads. This band was called “The Crown Prince Cadets.” Fritz was very thoroughly drilled in his military duties, and a uniform was provided for him. An arsenal was built on the palace grounds at Potsdam, where he mounted batteries and practised gunnery with small brass ordnance. Until Fritz was seven years of age, his education had been under the care of a French governess; but at that age he was taken from his lady teachers and placed under tutors. These tutors were military officers of great renown.

The following directions were drawn up by Frederick William, regarding his son’s education:—

“My son must be impressed with love and fear of God, as the foundation of our temporal and eternal welfare. No false religions or sects of Atheist, Arian, Socinian, or whatever name the poisonous things have, which can easily corrupt a young mind, are to be even named in his hearing. He is to be taught a proper abhorrence of Papistry, and to be shown its baselessness and nonsensicality. Impress on him the true religion, which consists essentially in this: that Christ died for all men. He is to learn no Latin, but French and German, so as to speak and write with brevity and propriety. Let him learn arithmetic, mathematics, artillery, economy, to the very bottom; history in particular; ancient history only slightly, but the history of the last one hundred and fifty years to the exactest pitch. He must be completely master of geography, as also of whatever is remarkable in each country. With increasing years you will more and more, to an especial degree, go upon fortification, the formation of a camp, and other war sciences, that the prince may from youth upward be trained to act as officer and general, and to seek all his glory in the soldier profession.”

Frederick William took little Fritz with him from early childhood on all his military reviews, and in going from garrison to garrison the king employed a common vehicle called a sausage-car. This consisted of a mere stuffed pole, some ten or twelve feet long, upon which they sat astride. It rested upon wheels, and the riders, ten or a dozen, were rattled along over the rough roads through dust and rain, in winter’s cold and summer’s heat. This iron king robbed his child even of sleep, saying, “Too much sleep stupefies a fellow.” Sitting astride of this log carriage, the tender and delicate Fritz, whose love was for music, poetry, and books, was forced to endure all kinds of hardship and fatigue. When Fritz was ten years of age, his exacting father made out a set of rules which covered all the hours of this poor boy’s life. Not even Saturday or Sunday was left untrammelled by his stern requirements.

Fritz was a remarkably handsome boy, with a fine figure, small and delicate hands and feet, and flowing blonde hair. His father, despising all the etiquette and social manners of life and dress, ordered his beautiful hair to be cut off, and denied him every luxury of the toilet and adornment. Frederick William early displayed an aversion for his handsome son, which soon amounted to actual hatred. As Wilhelmina and the mother of Fritz both took his part against the angry and brutal king, the wrath of that almost inhuman monster was also meted out to them.

When Fritz was fourteen years of age, he was appointed by his father as captain of the Potsdam Grenadier Guards. This regiment was the glory of the king, and was composed entirely of giants. The shortest of the men were nearly seven feet high, and the tallest nearly nine feet in height. Frederick William did not scruple to take any means of securing these coveted giants, and his recruiting officers were stationed in many places for the purpose of seizing any large men, no matter what their nationality or position. When the rulers of neighboring realms complained at this unlawful seizure of their subjects, the Prussian king pretended that it was done without his knowledge. If any young woman was found in his kingdom of remarkable stature, she was compelled to marry one of the king’s giants. This guard consisted of 2,400 men.

The queen-mother, Sophie Dorothee, had set her mind upon bringing about a double marriage, between Wilhelmina and her cousin Fred, son of the king of England, and Fritz and his cousin, the princess Amelia, the sister of Fred. But though all her schemes came to naught, they occasioned much trouble in her family, and brought down upon the heads of poor Wilhelmina and Fritz much brutal persecution from their inhuman father.

Frederick William took his son Fritz to visit Augustus, king of Poland. This king was an exceedingly profligate man, and the young Fritz learned vicious habits at this court, which lured him into evil ways which ever after left their blot upon his character and morals. This fatal visit to Dresden occurred when Fritz was sixteen years of age, and the dissipation of those four weeks introduced the crown prince to habits which have left an indelible stain upon his reputation, and which poisoned his life. The king’s previous dislike to his son was now converted into contempt and hatred, as he became aware of his vicious habits; for though the iron king was a maniac in temper, and cruel as a savage, he had no weakness towards an immoral life. King Frederick William was now confined to his chair with gout, and poor Wilhelmina and Fritz were the victims upon whom his severest tyrannies fell. The princess Wilhelmina was very beautiful, and had it not been for his love for this sister, upon whom the whole weight of his father’s resentment would then fall, Fritz would have escaped from his home and the terrible ill-treatment he there received.