One thing I knew about the memoirs which is still true is that they, even at their fullest, do not reach the time of the coup against Peter and Catherine's ascension to the throne. (Or if they ever did, that part didn't survive.) She never finished them. She wrote them in several stages, and this was a headache for any editor because she kept rewriting some scenes, such as her first meeting with (P)Russian Pete, for which there are three versions, one from the 1750s, one from the 1770s, and one from the late 1780s. The editor tells us here, and with other scenes, he had to make a choice as to what to use. Anyway, since the memoirs only cover her youth and Grand Duchess days, the "meeting the Hohenzollern" scenes are limited, I guess. I've now reached the point where Sophie reaches Russia, i.e. where the bowlderised memoirs start, and here are the Hohenzollern-related scenes so far:
First, the one I already excerpted for Mildred.
On the way from Stettin to Braunschweig or on the way back my mother usually made a stop at Berlin or Zerbst, depending on where my father was at the time. I remember how I was presented at age 8 for the first time to the late Queen Sophia Dorothea, the mother of King Frederick the Great; the King her husband was still alive then. Her four children, eleven years old Prince Heinrich, seven years old Prince Ferdinand, Princess Ulrike, the later Queen of Sweden, and Princess Amalie, both of a marriagable age, were with her. The King was absent. On that occasion, my friendship with Prince Heinrich of Prussia began during playing with each other; at least I could not name an earlier occasion. We have agreed repeatedly that the origin of our friendship goes back to that first meeting.
Young Sophie: not a fan of FW:
But before I describe this journey, I shall mention that in this year, King Friedrich Wilhelm died. I think no people has ever greeted the news of a death with more joy than this one. Passers-by on the street embraced and congratulated each other to the death of the King, whom they gave various nicknames; in short, young and old despised and hated him. He was strict, rude, miserly and passionate; still, he certainly possessed great attributes as a King, but he had nothing in him that could be loved, neither in his personal nor in his public life. His son, crown prince Friedrich, who succeeded him and to whom even his contemporaries gave the name Frederick the Gerat was beloved and respected, and there was much joy about his ascension.
Young Sophie: definitely a fan of the Countess Bentinck! (Whom she meets at that lady's mothers, who is also related to Sophie's Mom.)
Frau von Bentinck approached us on horseback. I had never seen a woman ride before and was delighted. She rode like a master of the horses. Once we'd arrived in Varel, I made friends with her; which displeased my mother and even more my father. We did start oddly. Frau von Bentick had hardly changed her clothes when she went upstairs. I was with her while she changed, and didn't leave her. She didn't play coy, showed herself for a moment in her mother's room, where my mother was as well, and we immediately started to dance a Steiermärker together. This made everyone look at us, and I got scolded for my behaviour. The next day, I still went and used an excuse to visit the Countess, for I found her delightful. How else she was supposed to appear to me? I was fourteen, she rode, she danced when she felt like it, she sang, joked, jumped around like a child, though she had to be around thirty years at this point. (Edtitor: She was 28.) She already lived separated from her husband. (...) In one of of the room, there was a portrait of Count Bentinck, who had to have been a very beautiful man. The Countess saw it and said: "If I hadn't been married to him, I'd have been madly in love with him!"
Heinrich & Sophie = bff is still a thing:
I think Prince August Wilhelm of Prussia got married in 1741 with Princess Louise of Braunschweig-Bevern. I was a guest at that wedding, where Duke Karl Eugen of Württemberg and his two brothers were present as well. The Duke was one year older than I was, his brothers were still little boys. Prince Heinrich of Prussia made me feel very distinguished back then, since we danced at every ball either a menuet or a contradanse together.
Footnote from editor with excerpts of Catherine's later correspondance with her Hamburg friend Frau von Bielcke (another childhood friend), who wrote to Catherine on October 7th, 1766 (date is interesting, since this is BEFORE Heinrich made his first trip to Russia):
I ask your majesty's permission to mention that about two years ago, I had the honor to encounter Prince Heinrich (of Prussia). He was kind enough to visit me and talk with me for about two hours. He spoke of your majesty with so much vivid admiration to me, with such great interest, that I couldn't help but think that if he had the happiness of being united with the charming Princess Sophie, he might not have made himself guilty of the terrible things which today darken his fame; but Pope says that all, that happens, is good!
To which Catherine replied on November 5th, 1766: The conversation you had with Prince Heinrich which you mentioned and the interest he showed in his old friend do delight me. It is not the first time I've heard about it, but like Pope, I agree that all happening as it did is well; so I don't regret more didn't come of our contredanses.
(Frau von Bielcke, if you you mean Heinrich wouldn't have been gay when married with Catherine, you don't know Heinrich. Methinks Catherine would agree. Also, just think of what would have happened if they'd fallen for the same guy!)
Incidentally, Catherine is slightly wrong about the date here; AW married Louise on January 6th 1742, right in the middle of Berlin's Carneval season.
Young Sophie, still 14, next gets romanced by Uncle Georg Ludwig, because Uncle/Niece is a thing in this century, it seems. Old Catherine thinks her mother knew (it was her brother) and didn't say anything. Old Catherine is rather jaundiced about her mother in general, says she prefered Sophie's brothers and had not much interest at all in Sophie until the possibility of marrying the Czarina's heir became a thing. Like Wilhelmine with Sonsine and MT with the Countess Fuchs, Catherine had a governess she loved very much, though, named Babet. Anyway, Uncle Georg Ludwig uses his uncle privileges for caressing and love declarations, says one day they'll make it official, and can't stand bff Heinrich's very name because he's not sure that might not be competition. He may or may not have proposed in the end, given they were Protestants and just needed Fritz' permission, but then the future Peter III match became a distinct possibility, provided they'd come to Russia for inspection.
And here's the passage about meeting Fritz, en route to Russia.
In Berlin, my mother didn't think it suitable for me to present myself at court or otherwise in public; but it happened otherwise. THe King of Prussia, through whose hands all incoming letters from Russia for my mother went first, knew exactly why my parents were in Berlin. (...) When the King of Prusisa who knew exactly where the journey was headed learned that I had arrived in Berlin, he wanted to see me in any case. My mother claimed I was sick. Two days later he invited her to dinner at the Queen's, his wife's, and asked her personally to bring me with her. My mother promised him, but on the day in question she went alone anyway. When the King saw her, he asked her about my condition. She replied that I was sick. Whereupon he replied that he knew this wasn't true. She then said I wasn't wearing any gala dress right now, to which he returned he would wait to see me at dinner the next day. At last, my mother said I didn't have any suitable court wardrobe. He ordered that one of his sisters should send me a dress. Finally my mother realised that no excuse would be accepted and sent a message to me that I was to get dressed and come to the palace. Thus I had to throw myself into gala robes an get ready, and was finished approximately at 3 pm. Finally I arrived at the palace. The King was waiting for me in the antechambre of the Queen. He drew me into a conversation and escorted me to the rooms of the Queen.
I was shy and embarassed. At last, we sat down at the table from which we were to rise again only very late. When we did get up, Prince Ferdinand of Braunschweig, the Queen's brother, whom I knew very well and had known for a long time and who back then was always around the King of Prussia approached me. He told me: "Tonight you'll be my lady at the King's table during the Redoute in the Opera House." (The Redoute was a big public masque ball.) I replied to him that it would be my pleasure. Back at our residence, I told my mother about the Prince of Braunschweig's invitation, and she said: "That is strange, for I've been invited to the Queen's table."
One of the tables had been given to my father, wo was to receive people there, which meant I sat alone at the King's table. My mother first drove to the Princess of Prussia, and then together with her to the Redoute. I spent the entire evening in conversation with the older Countess Henkel, who was lady-in-waiting to the Princess of Prussia, and when I had told her that I would have to sit at the King's table for the souper, she guided me to the room where dinner would be served. No sooner had I entered but that the Prince of Braunschweig approached me and took my hand. He pulled me to the end of the table, and because the other couples were coming, too, he pushed ahead so smoothly that he ended up sitting me right next to the King. When I saw the later was my neighbor, I wanted to withdraw, but he told me to stay, and through the entire evening he kept talking to me and said a lot of pleasantries. I tried to handle the conversation as good as I could; but I did direct some accusations at the Prince of Braunschweig for sitting me right next to the King. He turned it into a jest. At last, the dinner was finished, and we left Berlin supposedly for Stettin. Near Stettin my father said goodbye to me with much tenderness. It was the last time I was ever to see him, and I cried bitterly.
Anhalt Sophie: Portrait of the Czarina as a young girl
First, the one I already excerpted for Mildred.
On the way from Stettin to Braunschweig or on the way back my mother usually made a stop at Berlin or Zerbst, depending on where my father was at the time. I remember how I was presented at age 8 for the first time to the late Queen Sophia Dorothea, the mother of King Frederick the Great; the King her husband was still alive then. Her four children, eleven years old Prince Heinrich, seven years old Prince Ferdinand, Princess Ulrike, the later Queen of Sweden, and Princess Amalie, both of a marriagable age, were with her. The King was absent. On that occasion, my friendship with Prince Heinrich of Prussia began during playing with each other; at least I could not name an earlier occasion. We have agreed repeatedly that the origin of our friendship goes back to that first meeting.
Young Sophie: not a fan of FW:
But before I describe this journey, I shall mention that in this year, King Friedrich Wilhelm died. I think no people has ever greeted the news of a death with more joy than this one. Passers-by on the street embraced and congratulated each other to the death of the King, whom they gave various nicknames; in short, young and old despised and hated him. He was strict, rude, miserly and passionate; still, he certainly possessed great attributes as a King, but he had nothing in him that could be loved, neither in his personal nor in his public life.
His son, crown prince Friedrich, who succeeded him and to whom even his contemporaries gave the name Frederick the Gerat was beloved and respected, and there was much joy about his ascension.
Young Sophie: definitely a fan of the Countess Bentinck! (Whom she meets at that lady's mothers, who is also related to Sophie's Mom.)
Frau von Bentinck approached us on horseback. I had never seen a woman ride before and was delighted. She rode like a master of the horses. Once we'd arrived in Varel, I made friends with her; which displeased my mother and even more my father. We did start oddly. Frau von Bentick had hardly changed her clothes when she went upstairs. I was with her while she changed, and didn't leave her. She didn't play coy, showed herself for a moment in her mother's room, where my mother was as well, and we immediately started to dance a Steiermärker together. This made everyone look at us, and I got scolded for my behaviour. The next day, I still went and used an excuse to visit the Countess, for I found her delightful. How else she was supposed to appear to me? I was fourteen, she rode, she danced when she felt like it, she sang, joked, jumped around like a child, though she had to be around thirty years at this point. (Edtitor: She was 28.) She already lived separated from her husband. (...) In one of of the room, there was a portrait of Count Bentinck, who had to have been a very beautiful man. The Countess saw it and said: "If I hadn't been married to him, I'd have been madly in love with him!"
Heinrich & Sophie = bff is still a thing:
I think Prince August Wilhelm of Prussia got married in 1741 with Princess Louise of Braunschweig-Bevern. I was a guest at that wedding, where Duke Karl Eugen of Württemberg and his two brothers were present as well. The Duke was one year older than I was, his brothers were still little boys. Prince Heinrich of Prussia made me feel very distinguished back then, since we danced at every ball either a menuet or a contradanse together.
Footnote from editor with excerpts of Catherine's later correspondance with her Hamburg friend Frau von Bielcke (another childhood friend), who wrote to Catherine on October 7th, 1766 (date is interesting, since this is BEFORE Heinrich made his first trip to Russia):
I ask your majesty's permission to mention that about two years ago, I had the honor to encounter Prince Heinrich (of Prussia). He was kind enough to visit me and talk with me for about two hours. He spoke of your majesty with so much vivid admiration to me, with such great interest, that I couldn't help but think that if he had the happiness of being united with the charming Princess Sophie, he might not have made himself guilty of the terrible things which today darken his fame; but Pope says that all, that happens, is good!
To which Catherine replied on November 5th, 1766: The conversation you had with Prince Heinrich which you mentioned and the interest he showed in his old friend do delight me. It is not the first time I've heard about it, but like Pope, I agree that all happening as it did is well; so I don't regret more didn't come of our contredanses.
(Frau von Bielcke, if you you mean Heinrich wouldn't have been gay when married with Catherine, you don't know Heinrich. Methinks Catherine would agree. Also, just think of what would have happened if they'd fallen for the same guy!)
Incidentally, Catherine is slightly wrong about the date here; AW married Louise on January 6th 1742, right in the middle of Berlin's Carneval season.
Young Sophie, still 14, next gets romanced by Uncle Georg Ludwig, because Uncle/Niece is a thing in this century, it seems. Old Catherine thinks her mother knew (it was her brother) and didn't say anything. Old Catherine is rather jaundiced about her mother in general, says she prefered Sophie's brothers and had not much interest at all in Sophie until the possibility of marrying the Czarina's heir became a thing. Like Wilhelmine with Sonsine and MT with the Countess Fuchs, Catherine had a governess she loved very much, though, named Babet. Anyway, Uncle Georg Ludwig uses his uncle privileges for caressing and love declarations, says one day they'll make it official, and can't stand bff Heinrich's very name because he's not sure that might not be competition. He may or may not have proposed in the end, given they were Protestants and just needed Fritz' permission, but then the future Peter III match became a distinct possibility, provided they'd come to Russia for inspection.
And here's the passage about meeting Fritz, en route to Russia.
In Berlin, my mother didn't think it suitable for me to present myself at court or otherwise in public; but it happened otherwise. THe King of Prussia, through whose hands all incoming letters from Russia for my mother went first, knew exactly why my parents were in Berlin. (...) When the King of Prusisa who knew exactly where the journey was headed learned that I had arrived in Berlin, he wanted to see me in any case. My mother claimed I was sick. Two days later he invited her to dinner at the Queen's, his wife's, and asked her personally to bring me with her. My mother promised him, but on the day in question she went alone anyway. When the King saw her, he asked her about my condition. She replied that I was sick. Whereupon he replied that he knew this wasn't true. She then said I wasn't wearing any gala dress right now, to which he returned he would wait to see me at dinner the next day. At last, my mother said I didn't have any suitable court wardrobe. He ordered that one of his sisters should send me a dress. Finally my mother realised that no excuse would be accepted and sent a message to me that I was to get dressed and come to the palace. Thus I had to throw myself into gala robes an get ready, and was finished approximately at 3 pm. Finally I arrived at the palace. The King was waiting for me in the antechambre of the Queen. He drew me into a conversation and escorted me to the rooms of the Queen.
I was shy and embarassed. At last, we sat down at the table from which we were to rise again only very late. When we did get up, Prince Ferdinand of Braunschweig, the Queen's brother, whom I knew very well and had known for a long time and who back then was always around the King of Prussia approached me. He told me: "Tonight you'll be my lady at the King's table during the Redoute in the Opera House." (The Redoute was a big public masque ball.) I replied to him that it would be my pleasure. Back at our residence, I told my mother about the Prince of Braunschweig's invitation, and she said: "That is strange, for I've been invited to the Queen's table."
One of the tables had been given to my father, wo was to receive people there, which meant I sat alone at the King's table. My mother first drove to the Princess of Prussia, and then together with her to the Redoute. I spent the entire evening in conversation with the older Countess Henkel, who was lady-in-waiting to the Princess of Prussia, and when I had told her that I would have to sit at the King's table for the souper, she guided me to the room where dinner would be served. No sooner had I entered but that the Prince of Braunschweig approached me and took my hand. He pulled me to the end of the table, and because the other couples were coming, too, he pushed ahead so smoothly that he ended up sitting me right next to the King. When I saw the later was my neighbor, I wanted to withdraw, but he told me to stay, and through the entire evening he kept talking to me and said a lot of pleasantries. I tried to handle the conversation as good as I could; but I did direct some accusations at the Prince of Braunschweig for sitting me right next to the King. He turned it into a jest. At last, the dinner was finished, and we left Berlin supposedly for Stettin. Near Stettin my father said goodbye to me with much tenderness. It was the last time I was ever to see him, and I cried bitterly.