Since I'm feeling guilty since I brought up sad things again, something more light hearted, excerpts from the Fritz/Wilhelmine correspondance when she's in Italy. Where even when Fritz is sore-graping, he's doing so in an endearing way. Also, we find out what happened to Florichon (Wilhelmine's dog from the dog letters.) Judge for yourselves:
W: My dearest brother, the days appear years to me since I have lived for five weeks without news from you. Despite all the entertaining experiences I have had here, I wish I was in Rome right now, where your letters are adressed to. The interests of my heart will always outweigh everything for me me, and there, my dear brother rules like an absolute despot, so that one line from him weighs more than all the largesse I am seeing every day. We will leave Florence in two days.
I am like a person born blind who is learning to see bit by bit, and learns new concepts with this. All I have seen from Italy so far surpasses everything I've been told about it. I often feel myself enchanted and believe I must be living in an illusion.
F: My dearest sister, I had the pleasure of receiving your letter from Florence. It contains, dearest sister, any beautiful churches, monuments and antiques, but I must confess to be thoroughly saddened not to find the one thing I truly searched for: the restoratio of your health. In moderation, I believe movement could help you. But I am afraid that the burdens of a long journey will exhaust you too much. You will find Italy as an old coquette who fancies herself as beautiful as in her youth and who may bear some traces that allow a conclusion of how she must have been.
*lengthy rant about how and why the Italy of today and nearly all Italians of today must truly suck and can't possibly be enjoyed, but then*
I ask for a thousand pardons about my idle chatter. Maybe I am like the fox who found the grapes sour which he could not consume, or like the galley slave who has gotten into the habit of rowing his galley and looks with scorn at those enjoying their freedom. I beg you, do not forget the teutonic inhabitants on the shores of the Eastern sea. And may the beautiful climate of Italy not cause you aversion to the freeze of the climate at home.
ZOMG, mes amies, could he have been afraid she'd stay in Italy and he wouldn't see her again?
W: My dearest brother, I must admit to being very sad today. I have just lost a dear friend who always cheered me up and was more fond of me than any humans. My poor Folichon has died in Bayreuth of old age. I had left him there, for I was afraid he would suffer an accident on this journey, for which he was too old in any case. You, my dearest brother, know how much pain such a loss can cause while most of the world makes fun of it. But it seems to me that once one knows what human beings are like, one should try to distance oneself from them, for how many more virtues can we find at those we call animals than with the beings gifted with reason! I see those with reason talk nonsense on a daily basis, and favour evil. There could not have been a more sincere and faithful friend - People came, dear brother, and have stopped me moralizing.
Next, she's off to Naples
W: I'm here since the 27th. The street that leads here seems to be the way to hell. I could never stand the Appii, but right now, I hate them with a vengeance, having travelled on the terrible road they've constructed. I was sick and couldn't walk for days.
(The famous Appian Way was indeed in a terrible state at that point, but come on, Wilhelmine, it was 1700 years old!)
(...) The King here spends his days hunting and fishing while the Queen runs all state business. Yesterday I was in Pozzuoli, in Baja and Cumuae. Rarely have I felt such vivid pleasure. I have visited all the living spaces of the Ancients. There can be nothing more admirable than the Piscina of Lucullus which is still preserved.
(Description ensues. Wilhelmine actually means the "piscina mirabilis", the gigantic underground water cisterns through which the Romans supplied the city with water - and which still supplied Naples with water when she was there. They were active until a mid 19th century earthquake. Today, you can still sightsee there, and they're truly amazing.)
La Condamine and i crawled on all fours inside and climbed back on ladders. In short, we are now adventures immortal by our research and have called this our descent into the underworld. (...) Herculaneum, on the other hand, does not live up to its descriptions. It is like a quarry, with lava walls. One doesn't see anything. While I was there, though, two beautiful mosaic floors were discovered. (...) If we had tools, we'd have taken them with us. I'd have acted like St. Francis in order to send them to you.
<(Wilhelmine is confusing St. Francis with St Crispin who stole leather in order to make shoes for the poor.)
F: My dearest sister, (...) I must admit that I would consider it glorious to have travelled on the Via Appia and that there is nothing I wouldn't give, including a broken rib, in order to be in this earthly paradise. Well, it is not given to everyone to travel to Corinth.
(Editor's footnote: "Travel to Corinth: French saying for making an expensive or morally questionable journey.)
You, my dearest sister, must feel the joy of seeing Italy more than anyone else; you, who knows the history so well and who can treasure antiques. For those Spaniards and Saxons transported to Naples the ancient names are just fancy words. (...) Such a poor species of people lives in this beautiful land now; Julius Caesar, if he came back, would be amazed to find such Iroquois as the owners of his country.
And so forth. Then he reports their mother will visit him in Potsdam, because guess what? There's an English marriage to be arranged! (Between Charlotte's oldest daughter and the current Prince of Wales, though actually Charlotte was supposed to bring ALL her daughters to Hannover for inspection)
It was demanded that she should bring her daughters to Hannover where she'll have the honour of getting face to face with his Britannic Majesty, an honour I do not envy for the world.
Wilhelmine is back in Rome
W: I must, my dear brother, report a miraculous, extraordinary, strange adventure which you won't have expected. You will have a saint in your family, and that saint is myself. I am now a martyr of our holy religion. This pillar of the true faith has not bent her knees to the antichrist. The Roman ladies are terrified and will not see or receive Satan's helper, to wit, me. Discreetly, the Pope does what he can in order to calm everyone down. Like the Cardinal Valenti, who thus is a kind of romantic go between, he tries to be agreeable to me as much as he can, for not a day passes when he doesn't tell me compliments from the Pope. And thus you have my confession. If I could have seen his Holiness, I may have made him my Cicisbeo, for I admit to you I am a bit attracted to the fantastic. But alas, our love was not to be. Now I'm not seeing anyone, which suits me well, since all these visits were killing me. (...) I am up and about all day in the town, though, in order to discover the traces of ancient Rome. One has to get up on montains or into ruined buildings or sometimes descend into the earth, but it is possible. (...) Yesterday I have read a delightful Italian sonnet about you, my dearest brother. In it, you get compared to Julius Caesar. At the end, it says that Caesar wrote his life anew, and that only you were worthy of writing yours. Now you have caused me to make so many bowings and pleasantries that I'll get my hips out of joint, for people talk so much about you to me, knowing this is an assured way to prologne a conversation with me, for no one is dearer to me than my dear brother, whose devoted and obedient sister I shall aways be - Wilhelmine.
Sibling Correspondance
W: My dearest brother, the days appear years to me since I have lived for five weeks without news from you. Despite all the entertaining experiences I have had here, I wish I was in Rome right now, where your letters are adressed to. The interests of my heart will always outweigh everything for me me, and there, my dear brother rules like an absolute despot, so that one line from him weighs more than all the largesse I am seeing every day. We will leave Florence in two days.
I am like a person born blind who is learning to see bit by bit, and learns new concepts with this. All I have seen from Italy so far surpasses everything I've been told about it. I often feel myself enchanted and believe I must be living in an illusion.
F: My dearest sister, I had the pleasure of receiving your letter from Florence. It contains, dearest sister, any beautiful churches, monuments and antiques, but I must confess to be thoroughly saddened not to find the one thing I truly searched for: the restoratio of your health. In moderation, I believe movement could help you. But I am afraid that the burdens of a long journey will exhaust you too much. You will find Italy as an old coquette who fancies herself as beautiful as in her youth and who may bear some traces that allow a conclusion of how she must have been.
*lengthy rant about how and why the Italy of today and nearly all Italians of today must truly suck and can't possibly be enjoyed, but then*
I ask for a thousand pardons about my idle chatter. Maybe I am like the fox who found the grapes sour which he could not consume, or like the galley slave who has gotten into the habit of rowing his galley and looks with scorn at those enjoying their freedom. I beg you, do not forget the teutonic inhabitants on the shores of the Eastern sea. And may the beautiful climate of Italy not cause you aversion to the freeze of the climate at home.
ZOMG, mes amies, could he have been afraid she'd stay in Italy and he wouldn't see her again?
W: My dearest brother, I must admit to being very sad today. I have just lost a dear friend who always cheered me up and was more fond of me than any humans. My poor Folichon has died in Bayreuth of old age. I had left him there, for I was afraid he would suffer an accident on this journey, for which he was too old in any case. You, my dearest brother, know how much pain such a loss can cause while most of the world makes fun of it. But it seems to me that once one knows what human beings are like, one should try to distance oneself from them, for how many more virtues can we find at those we call animals than with the beings gifted with reason! I see those with reason talk nonsense on a daily basis, and favour evil. There could not have been a more sincere and faithful friend - People came, dear brother, and have stopped me moralizing.
Next, she's off to Naples
W: I'm here since the 27th. The street that leads here seems to be the way to hell. I could never stand the Appii, but right now, I hate them with a vengeance, having travelled on the terrible road they've constructed. I was sick and couldn't walk for days.
(The famous Appian Way was indeed in a terrible state at that point, but come on, Wilhelmine, it was 1700 years old!)
(...) The King here spends his days hunting and fishing while the Queen runs all state business. Yesterday I was in Pozzuoli, in Baja and Cumuae. Rarely have I felt such vivid pleasure. I have visited all the living spaces of the Ancients. There can be nothing more admirable than the Piscina of Lucullus which is still preserved.
(Description ensues. Wilhelmine actually means the "piscina mirabilis", the gigantic underground water cisterns through which the Romans supplied the city with water - and which still supplied Naples with water when she was there. They were active until a mid 19th century earthquake. Today, you can still sightsee there, and they're truly amazing.)
La Condamine and i crawled on all fours inside and climbed back on ladders. In short, we are now adventures immortal by our research and have called this our descent into the underworld. (...) Herculaneum, on the other hand, does not live up to its descriptions. It is like a quarry, with lava walls. One doesn't see anything. While I was there, though, two beautiful mosaic floors were discovered. (...) If we had tools, we'd have taken them with us. I'd have acted like St. Francis in order to send them to you.
<(Wilhelmine is confusing St. Francis with St Crispin who stole leather in order to make shoes for the poor.)
F: My dearest sister, (...) I must admit that I would consider it glorious to have travelled on the Via Appia and that there is nothing I wouldn't give, including a broken rib, in order to be in this earthly paradise. Well, it is not given to everyone to travel to Corinth.
(Editor's footnote: "Travel to Corinth: French saying for making an expensive or morally questionable journey.)
You, my dearest sister, must feel the joy of seeing Italy more than anyone else; you, who knows the history so well and who can treasure antiques. For those Spaniards and Saxons transported to Naples the ancient names are just fancy words. (...) Such a poor species of people lives in this beautiful land now; Julius Caesar, if he came back, would be amazed to find such Iroquois as the owners of his country.
And so forth. Then he reports their mother will visit him in Potsdam, because guess what? There's an English marriage to be arranged! (Between Charlotte's oldest daughter and the current Prince of Wales, though actually Charlotte was supposed to bring ALL her daughters to Hannover for inspection)
It was demanded that she should bring her daughters to Hannover where she'll have the honour of getting face to face with his Britannic Majesty, an honour I do not envy for the world.
Wilhelmine is back in Rome
W: I must, my dear brother, report a miraculous, extraordinary, strange adventure which you won't have expected. You will have a saint in your family, and that saint is myself. I am now a martyr of our holy religion. This pillar of the true faith has not bent her knees to the antichrist. The Roman ladies are terrified and will not see or receive Satan's helper, to wit, me. Discreetly, the Pope does what he can in order to calm everyone down. Like the Cardinal Valenti, who thus is a kind of romantic go between, he tries to be agreeable to me as much as he can, for not a day passes when he doesn't tell me compliments from the Pope. And thus you have my confession. If I could have seen his Holiness, I may have made him my Cicisbeo, for I admit to you I am a bit attracted to the fantastic. But alas, our love was not to be. Now I'm not seeing anyone, which suits me well, since all these visits were killing me. (...) I am up and about all day in the town, though, in order to discover the traces of ancient Rome. One has to get up on montains or into ruined buildings or sometimes descend into the earth, but it is possible. (...) Yesterday I have read a delightful Italian sonnet about you, my dearest brother. In it, you get compared to Julius Caesar. At the end, it says that Caesar wrote his life anew, and that only you were worthy of writing yours. Now you have caused me to make so many bowings and pleasantries that I'll get my hips out of joint, for people talk so much about you to me, knowing this is an assured way to prologne a conversation with me, for no one is dearer to me than my dear brother, whose devoted and obedient sister I shall aways be - Wilhelmine.