Dedicated to Charlotte, and the dedication mentions having talked to her, too, about her noble brother. Reminder: Niicolai was bff with Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, writer of some of German's most enduring classic plays and theoretical essays, who had ended up as Charlotte's librarian in Wolfenbüttel. The preface also mentions his buddy Dr. Zimmermann encouraging to publish, which is of course deeply ironic in hindsight, since they're about to fall out. Another motive for being a Fritz fan, err, an intense scholar of the late King's character and life, Nicolai gives is that he grew up in Fritz' Prussia, all the ideas he has about enlightenment etc. were formed there, he would not be who he became without Fritz. Aw. As I told you earlier, his three main sources named in the introductions are the Marquis d'Argens, Quintus Icilius and Quantz, all of whom he had befriended. As for Charlotte, she even provided Nicolai with two of Fritz' letters, one he wrote to her after the death of her son Leopold, and the other just six days before his own death, which Nicolai prints here for the first time. (In the French original.) He promises to the readers that if he gets new information contradicting anything he tells in his first volume, he'll include it in the subsequent ones (and will keep the promise, as we've seen.)
The condoling letter is very Fritz (in a mild way way, I hasten to add): we must all die, alas, be a philosopher, accept it, even though I totally feel your pain as a tender mother, live for me, you are the happiness of my life.
After reprinting the two letters to Charlotte, Nicolai tells the reader all about D'Argens, how much he rocked, and why he was Fritz' worthiest friend. Nicolai admits D'Argens was an excentric and a hypochondriac, but chides the people laughing at the Marquis for all the clothing he put on himself, saying they should consider how someone born in warm, sunny Provence would feel in freezing Berlin. He also praises the Marquis as a tender husband and the Marquise as a wonderful wife and attacks another Councillor Adelung, who recently published an encyclopedia about learned men, who claims that D'Argens had separated from his wife the ex ballet dancer. Nicolai (correctly) says this is pure slander and that the Marquise was with D'Argens till his death and still lives in Provence as an honored part of his family. (Correct. Also, we've seen EC reply to her condolence letter upon Fritz' death, remember?) After some more general D'Argens characterisation, we get the dissing of everyone else form the table round which I already paraphrased and summarized for you. Here it is, and it's probably fair to say that this must be what D'Argens himself thought about his fellow knights of the Sanssouci table round:
Darget was an honest man who however felt burdened by having to stay near the King, and who was homesick for France; he highly esteemed the King, but he did not love him. De La Mettrie wasn't really held in high regard by the King. Instead, (Fritz) regarded him as a Clown who could amuse him entre deux vins now and then. De La Mettrie behaved very undignified towards the King; not only did he blab everywhere in Berlin about everything that was talked about at the King's table, he also narrated everything twistedly, with malicious addenda.
(Reminder: according to Voltaire, De La Mettrie was his source for the orange quote from Fritz.)
He especially liked to do this while dining with the then French envoy, Lord Tyrconnel, at whose table he died. Algarotti, a very subtle man and very subtle politician, was pleased by Friedrich's company because the later was a King and a man of wit. The King held him in high regard and loved him very much for his good qualities; but Algarotti was more concerned with the esteem he gained by the King's friendship and did not love the King, which the later eventually realized. Maupertuis, whom the King esteemed for his scientific abiliities and pleasant manners, was full of quirks and pretensions, and envious of everyone for whom the King had as much as a kind word, for he thought he'd lose whatever the other gained. He was never satisfied, and consequently caused great irritation to the King whom he annoyed with his quirks and who would have liked to see him content.
Voltaire, although the greatest writer of them all by far, was the most ungrateful towards the King. He was jealous of everyone whom the King preferred. His utmost bitterness resulted from believing the King didn't distinguish him enough from the other scholarly favourites. Full of pride and petulance, he often when everyone was in great spirits lashed out against the others in the King's company, which displeased the King himself not a few times; two times, when Voltaire had been too insolent, the King had to speak as a King, and Voltaire, as proud as he'd been, was now immediately humbled. But he avenged himself through impudent and partially false stories he spread behind the King's back.
(Footnote from Nicolai here: D'Argens once told me with the vivaciousness of a Provence man about Voltaire: Le Bastard a de l'esprit come trente, mais il est malicious come un vieux finge.)
(Only partially false stories, though, Nicolai? I can't help but note which ones you don't go on to refute....)
He boasted about correcting the King's writings, which as D'Argens has assured me wasn't true, except for individual words or sayings very occasionally, and yet (Voltaire) talked with contempt about said work. It is certain that Voltaire made secret copies of the King's poems which had been entrusted to him in the strictest confidence, and that these poems first became known through him against the King's strict will. Thus, the King hasn't been wrong to have taken these copies from him in Frankfurt, for otherwise even more of them would have become known. The King did appreciate his extraordinary talent and loved him more than he ever deserved. As early as the Seven Years War, the King was corresponding with him again, and apparantly on good footing. From a distance of a hundred miles, this seems to have worked; but close up, it would have soon be over, and not through the King's fault, but solely Voltaire's. D'Argens said: Le Roi veut tacher de se faire aimer de lui, mais il ne réussira pas. It is telling of the Marquis D'Argens benevolent and agreeable character that he did not argue once with that impudent man while they were both around the King.
And then we get Nicolai going on some more about how all these foreigners of the first 15 years (except for D'Argens) were purely exploitative and unworthy of poor, poor Fritz, who thought he could recover with them from the burdens of rulership. In his assurance that D'Argens was worthy and best beloved, Nicolai has to navigate around the fact that Fritz mocked D'Argens, too, and not a few times, but he assures his readers this had nothing to do as to why D'Argens eventually left, that was just for his health, and he's also sure that Fritz had resolved never to make jokes at D'Argens' expense again and D'Argens totally would have returned to the King's side when, alas, he died. Nicolai argues that the fact Fritz kept corresponding with D'Argens throughout his greatest trial, the 7 Years War, on a nearly daily basis shows how close the two men were, and how Fritz trusted him more than any other, while the fact D'Argens never schemed against anyone else, and kept all that Fritz entrusted to him secret, shows his worthy character. According to Nicolai, he locked himself in a room whenever a Fritzian letter arrived to read it on his own, and also that people peeping through keyholes (?!) saw repeatedly that D'Argens took off his two caps which he was otherwise wearing all the time before reading the letters.
Among the D'Argens anecdotes Nicolai tells is also the one about Fritz' non- public arrival in Berlin post war and D'Argens reaction to it, which Lehndorff writes about at the time, and the quote Nicolai gives of D'Argens' comment is literally the same Lehndorff notes down in his diary (which Nicolai can't have looked up); it's always neat when two independent sources back each other up on something.
Here's a story I hadn't seen anywhere else: When the new palace next to Sanssouci had been finished, the King had prepared an apartment there for the Marquis. One day he said very gracefully: he wanted to show the new apartment to (D'Argens) and the Marquise himself, and therefore invited them over for tea. Thus it happened; the King was in high spirits, showed them every detail of how comfortable their new rooms were, and at last said in the bedroom: he didn't want to stay too long, but wanted to leave the Marquis to his comfort and his nightcaps; and with a funny compliment, took his leave. Here Nicolai adds a footnote: As the Marquise was the sole woman to actually live in one of the King's palaces with her family, he wished her a new heir in this new apartment.
(In conclusion: frat boys are eternal.)
Then Nicolai gets nationalistic and swears that not only did D'Argens clue into the fact that German literature had started to happen (unlike Fritz), but that whenever someone French showed up in the hope D'Argens would get him a job with Fritz just because they were countryman, D'Argens said he wasn't French but had the honor of being German.
Finally, Nicolai uses the opportunity to pitch a work of his own. Due to his friendship with D'Argens, he had translated D'Argens Lettres Juives into German, which he said pleased the Marquis muchly, so much so he even when getting the proofs added some new passages. So the German edition of Lettres Juives has exlusive new text material, readers! Buy it!
The Sanssouci Table Round (aka Nicolai, Volume I, a)
The condoling letter is very Fritz (in a mild way way, I hasten to add): we must all die, alas, be a philosopher, accept it, even though I totally feel your pain as a tender mother, live for me, you are the happiness of my life.
After reprinting the two letters to Charlotte, Nicolai tells the reader all about D'Argens, how much he rocked, and why he was Fritz' worthiest friend. Nicolai admits D'Argens was an excentric and a hypochondriac, but chides the people laughing at the Marquis for all the clothing he put on himself, saying they should consider how someone born in warm, sunny Provence would feel in freezing Berlin. He also praises the Marquis as a tender husband and the Marquise as a wonderful wife and attacks another Councillor Adelung, who recently published an encyclopedia about learned men, who claims that D'Argens had separated from his wife the ex ballet dancer. Nicolai (correctly) says this is pure slander and that the Marquise was with D'Argens till his death and still lives in Provence as an honored part of his family. (Correct. Also, we've seen EC reply to her condolence letter upon Fritz' death, remember?) After some more general D'Argens characterisation, we get the dissing of everyone else form the table round which I already paraphrased and summarized for you. Here it is, and it's probably fair to say that this must be what D'Argens himself thought about his fellow knights of the Sanssouci table round:
Darget was an honest man who however felt burdened by having to stay near the King, and who was homesick for France; he highly esteemed the King, but he did not love him. De La Mettrie wasn't really held in high regard by the King. Instead, (Fritz) regarded him as a Clown who could amuse him entre deux vins now and then. De La Mettrie behaved very undignified towards the King; not only did he blab everywhere in Berlin about everything that was talked about at the King's table, he also narrated everything twistedly, with malicious addenda.
(Reminder: according to Voltaire, De La Mettrie was his source for the orange quote from Fritz.)
He especially liked to do this while dining with the then French envoy, Lord Tyrconnel, at whose table he died.
Algarotti, a very subtle man and very subtle politician, was pleased by Friedrich's company because the later was a King and a man of wit. The King held him in high regard and loved him very much for his good qualities; but Algarotti was more concerned with the esteem he gained by the King's friendship and did not love the King, which the later eventually realized.
Maupertuis, whom the King esteemed for his scientific abiliities and pleasant manners, was full of quirks and pretensions, and envious of everyone for whom the King had as much as a kind word, for he thought he'd lose whatever the other gained. He was never satisfied, and consequently caused great irritation to the King whom he annoyed with his quirks and who would have liked to see him content.
Voltaire, although the greatest writer of them all by far, was the most ungrateful towards the King. He was jealous of everyone whom the King preferred. His utmost bitterness resulted from believing the King didn't distinguish him enough from the other scholarly favourites. Full of pride and petulance, he often when everyone was in great spirits lashed out against the others in the King's company, which displeased the King himself not a few times; two times, when Voltaire had been too insolent, the King had to speak as a King, and Voltaire, as proud as he'd been, was now immediately humbled. But he avenged himself through impudent and partially false stories he spread behind the King's back.
(Footnote from Nicolai here: D'Argens once told me with the vivaciousness of a Provence man about Voltaire: Le Bastard a de l'esprit come trente, mais il est malicious come un vieux finge.)
(Only partially false stories, though, Nicolai? I can't help but note which ones you don't go on to refute....)
He boasted about correcting the King's writings, which as D'Argens has assured me wasn't true, except for individual words or sayings very occasionally, and yet (Voltaire) talked with contempt about said work. It is certain that Voltaire made secret copies of the King's poems which had been entrusted to him in the strictest confidence, and that these poems first became known through him against the King's strict will. Thus, the King hasn't been wrong to have taken these copies from him in Frankfurt, for otherwise even more of them would have become known. The King did appreciate his extraordinary talent and loved him more than he ever deserved. As early as the Seven Years War, the King was corresponding with him again, and apparantly on good footing. From a distance of a hundred miles, this seems to have worked; but close up, it would have soon be over, and not through the King's fault, but solely Voltaire's. D'Argens said: Le Roi veut tacher de se faire aimer de lui, mais il ne réussira pas. It is telling of the Marquis D'Argens benevolent and agreeable character that he did not argue once with that impudent man while they were both around the King.
And then we get Nicolai going on some more about how all these foreigners of the first 15 years (except for D'Argens) were purely exploitative and unworthy of poor, poor Fritz, who thought he could recover with them from the burdens of rulership. In his assurance that D'Argens was worthy and best beloved, Nicolai has to navigate around the fact that Fritz mocked D'Argens, too, and not a few times, but he assures his readers this had nothing to do as to why D'Argens eventually left, that was just for his health, and he's also sure that Fritz had resolved never to make jokes at D'Argens' expense again and D'Argens totally would have returned to the King's side when, alas, he died. Nicolai argues that the fact Fritz kept corresponding with D'Argens throughout his greatest trial, the 7 Years War, on a nearly daily basis shows how close the two men were, and how Fritz trusted him more than any other, while the fact D'Argens never schemed against anyone else, and kept all that Fritz entrusted to him secret, shows his worthy character. According to Nicolai, he locked himself in a room whenever a Fritzian letter arrived to read it on his own, and also that people peeping through keyholes (?!) saw repeatedly that D'Argens took off his two caps which he was otherwise wearing all the time before reading the letters.
Among the D'Argens anecdotes Nicolai tells is also the one about Fritz' non- public arrival in Berlin post war and D'Argens reaction to it, which Lehndorff writes about at the time, and the quote Nicolai gives of D'Argens' comment is literally the same Lehndorff notes down in his diary (which Nicolai can't have looked up); it's always neat when two independent sources back each other up on something.
Here's a story I hadn't seen anywhere else: When the new palace next to Sanssouci had been finished, the King had prepared an apartment there for the Marquis. One day he said very gracefully: he wanted to show the new apartment to (D'Argens) and the Marquise himself, and therefore invited them over for tea. Thus it happened; the King was in high spirits, showed them every detail of how comfortable their new rooms were, and at last said in the bedroom: he didn't want to stay too long, but wanted to leave the Marquis to his comfort and his nightcaps; and with a funny compliment, took his leave. Here Nicolai adds a footnote: As the Marquise was the sole woman to actually live in one of the King's palaces with her family, he wished her a new heir in this new apartment.
(In conclusion: frat boys are eternal.)
Then Nicolai gets nationalistic and swears that not only did D'Argens clue into the fact that German literature had started to happen (unlike Fritz), but that whenever someone French showed up in the hope D'Argens would get him a job with Fritz just because they were countryman, D'Argens said he wasn't French but had the honor of being German.
Finally, Nicolai uses the opportunity to pitch a work of his own. Due to his friendship with D'Argens, he had translated D'Argens Lettres Juives into German, which he said pleased the Marquis muchly, so much so he even when getting the proofs added some new passages. So the German edition of Lettres Juives has exlusive new text material, readers! Buy it!
(Book selling tactics are also eternal.)