The Master liked the custom of the Germans of the times of old to have court fools; but he didn't understand it correctly. For instead of looking for those who would tell him and his entourage the truth in a jest at the right time, when no one else would, he sought clowns and acrobats. If he found them, they were given to supervisors who treated the poor fellows so harshly that they became depressed instead of becoming funny, bright and cheerful. Like one from Siebenbürgen, named Eisenbläser, whom the King nicknamed Cucumene, (...)who'd been put under the supervision of Wachtmeister Lieutenant Buzlaf. He was trashed daily by the later, was given iron balls attached to his feet like the eagles running around the palace, and was tormented to the core, of which the result was that he was found hanged in the attic.
(Result: distinct lack of court fool volunteers.)
The source of all this was: when he had to be in Berlin while being Crown Prince, he was at war with time. In order to kill it, he rode on his pages and footmen and beat them out of the room. Once he was on the throne, this princely pleasure had to be forsaken, and so he assembled his officers in the evening to the tabbaco college instead. But what little knowledge they possessed together was soon exhausted. The reading of newspapers, too, was soon over, and to investigate the likelihood of the reported was something this assembly knew as little about as about cause and effect of a given incident. So the gentlemen smoked and yawned at each other. Despite the marvelous conclusion that everyone who knew something had to be a fool had already been reached, the King decided that they needed someone like this, to tell them stories and give them causes to speak. Everyone suggested a candidate, among them Paul Gundling, who was a member of the Academy which was on the decline then, and it was praised that he was good at talking. (...)Now the assembly had enough to listen to, for this man was a scholar. As at first no one had a competing comment to make, the King started to respect the man. But as a just precaution against the admiration growing too much, it was decided that the man should be tempted. This temptation consisted of drowning him in titles, forcing him to drink until he'd grown a taste for it and even tank the rest of the glasses and mugs after a meal had finished, and once he was drunk, he was treated evilly in words and deeds. At one time, there was a wall built in front of his door, so that when he was looking for his room in the evening, he couldn't find it and had to spend the night searching for it; at another time, young bears (of which many declawed ones were walking around at Wusterhausen and and Potsdam in the court yards) were put into his bed, which welcomed him in their way when he returned drunken and crawling from the tobacco parliament in the night. Because he started to complain about it, it was said he wasn't just a fool, he was a Poltron. (?) Despite of him having surrendered completely to drink, all these evil doings grew too wild for him, and once he ran away, but only to his brother Hieronymus, who was a Professor in Halle. From there, he was brought back like a criminal under guard. There was a debate on how to punish him. But one noted through his unusual silence that he had been brought to depression and that at least his talking at the table and at the tobacco college would be over, which meant they'd be back where they started from, and he wasn't supposed to kill himself, either; so the decision was made that the entire tobacco parliament should go smoking and drinking to him, led by the King, and praise him, tell hm that there never was a greater scholar. So the poor man was won around again, was made to drink again, and now was treated thusly that everyone had their fun with him but his life and his health weren't endangered anymore, and the bears were left out of it from now on. (...) At last, he was buried in a barrel of wine as a coffin in the church at Bornstadt, and a succcessor sought everywhere. Those who accepted either knew not as much as he had done and so disappeared again, or they started to scheme instead, and thus coped better than the dear departed. Others who were put into the position avoided drink, arrogance and cowardice. Moreover, the knowledge of the King and his company had grown, so he now wanted more of the useful conversations and its entertainment than the crude pranks, and he grew fonder of a truth told as a jest, or a story in context than by grimaces and beatings, especially since the Master had now tasted philosophy.
Meaning: of course, I wasn't treat this way, reader! But I will admit thinking about my predecessor makes me a bit queasy.
While I almost can't believe the above reported story was written without awareness of how this makes FW sound, I am, sad to say, sure Morgenstern thought this bit of 18th century antisemitism was just jolly, too: FW after hunting sent the killed boars to the Jews who had to buy them at five Reichstaler a piece.
Morgenstern claims SD has promised him protection because he managed on two evenings in a row to be examined by FW about the family without having taken anyone's party or talked badly about anyone. He also reports that Old Desssauer faked the smoking, as mentioned in other books, and confirms FW liked oboists from the military. (Fredersdorf, watch out!)
Not in Morgenstern: back in the day, FW in his earliest instructions to his son's governors and teachers wanted SD to be the disciplining parent. They were never supposed to threaten little Fritz with him, only with his mother. I knew this, but what I hadn't known was that FW kept this up with the younger kids as well, at least according to Morgenstern, who writes:
Yes, even if the sons were already officers and in uniform with him, and if they'd been noughty, he led the criminal himself to be punished by the mother. Since he had never learned to punish or reward the children, his favourites weren't better treated than the other children, and he didn't distinguish one from the other by special surprises or treats. In my time, the favourites were the princes Wilhelm and Ferdinand, and Princess Ulrike. But since they all didn't get anything than friendly looks, addresses, sometimes kisses, and cheek stroking; so the author dares to claim due to the sheer number of such loving yet unprofitable caresses, the last one named was the one most loved, yes, even esteemed for her firm mind, and because she never showed discontentment or mocking laughter, and if she'd been a son, she'd have been preferred.
But FW believed in the superiority of the male sex too much to make a girl the overall favourite. Money heritage for the boys, btw:
52 000 Reichstaler for Prince Wilhelm 26 000 for Heinrich and Ferdinand each.
In 1737, there was talk of marrying Wilhelm to a Danish princess which since she had only one brother would have given him a shot on the throne. FW was all for it until there was a report that the girl was a dwarf, at which point the marriage was cancelled.
FW and the fight against superstition: stopped the last witch trials state, thought alchemy was rubbish, was in two minds about ghosts; mostly he didn't think they existed, but he wasn't sure about the White Lady ( the appearance of whom supposedly spelled Hohenzollern doom).
Let's see, what else: ah, yes, travel. Mom and Grandmom and Dad all took him along on journeys to the Netherlands when he grew up, and he was very positively impressed, not least by the hygiene. Morgenstern says FW surpassed the Muslims with their five daily washings, and was really very much into cleanlinesss. (Had an obvious reasult with Fritz and hygiene.) Alas the Netherlands lost their holiday trip allure for him when he once at at an inn, the innkeeper lady recognized him and without improving the quality of the food still when later presenting the bill demanded a kingly price from him, over 1000 Taler. When he gave her 30 ducats instead, she screamed after him that he was stiffing her and made a big scandal by clinging to the carriage. And FW never visited the Netherlands again. Otoh, he enjoyed his travellers from afar: Peter the Great was certainly a favourite. And speaking of Peter: look, says Mr. Morgenstern, Peter may get praise now, but in his day he was hated and called a tyrant by a great many of his subjects, too. Also he gave them more cause than FW. I'm sure FW's reputation will go the way of Peter's and rise through subsequent generations, though!
He's just a soul whose intentions were good: Morgenstern on FW. - B
(Result: distinct lack of court fool volunteers.)
The source of all this was: when he had to be in Berlin while being Crown Prince, he was at war with time. In order to kill it, he rode on his pages and footmen and beat them out of the room. Once he was on the throne, this princely pleasure had to be forsaken, and so he assembled his officers in the evening to the tabbaco college instead. But what little knowledge they possessed together was soon exhausted. The reading of newspapers, too, was soon over, and to investigate the likelihood of the reported was something this assembly knew as little about as about cause and effect of a given incident. So the gentlemen smoked and yawned at each other. Despite the marvelous conclusion that everyone who knew something had to be a fool had already been reached, the King decided that they needed someone like this, to tell them stories and give them causes to speak. Everyone suggested a candidate, among them Paul Gundling, who was a member of the Academy which was on the decline then, and it was praised that he was good at talking. (...)Now the assembly had enough to listen to, for this man was a scholar. As at first no one had a competing comment to make, the King started to respect the man. But as a just precaution against the admiration growing too much, it was decided that the man should be tempted. This temptation consisted of drowning him in titles, forcing him to drink until he'd grown a taste for it and even tank the rest of the glasses and mugs after a meal had finished, and once he was drunk, he was treated evilly in words and deeds. At one time, there was a wall built in front of his door, so that when he was looking for his room in the evening, he couldn't find it and had to spend the night searching for it; at another time, young bears (of which many declawed ones were walking around at Wusterhausen and and Potsdam in the court yards) were put into his bed, which welcomed him in their way when he returned drunken and crawling from the tobacco parliament in the night. Because he started to complain about it, it was said he wasn't just a fool, he was a Poltron. (?) Despite of him having surrendered completely to drink, all these evil doings grew too wild for him, and once he ran away, but only to his brother Hieronymus, who was a Professor in Halle. From there, he was brought back like a criminal under guard. There was a debate on how to punish him. But one noted through his unusual silence that he had been brought to depression and that at least his talking at the table and at the tobacco college would be over, which meant they'd be back where they started from, and he wasn't supposed to kill himself, either; so the decision was made that the entire tobacco parliament should go smoking and drinking to him, led by the King, and praise him, tell hm that there never was a greater scholar. So the poor man was won around again, was made to drink again, and now was treated thusly that everyone had their fun with him but his life and his health weren't endangered anymore, and the bears were left out of it from now on. (...) At last, he was buried in a barrel of wine as a coffin in the church at Bornstadt, and a succcessor sought everywhere. Those who accepted either knew not as much as he had done and so disappeared again, or they started to scheme instead, and thus coped better than the dear departed. Others who were put into the position avoided drink, arrogance and cowardice. Moreover, the knowledge of the King and his company had grown, so he now wanted more of the useful conversations and its entertainment than the crude pranks, and he grew fonder of a truth told as a jest, or a story in context than by grimaces and beatings, especially since the Master had now tasted philosophy.
Meaning: of course, I wasn't treat this way, reader! But I will admit thinking about my predecessor makes me a bit queasy.
While I almost can't believe the above reported story was written without awareness of how this makes FW sound, I am, sad to say, sure Morgenstern thought this bit of 18th century antisemitism was just jolly, too: FW after hunting sent the killed boars to the Jews who had to buy them at five Reichstaler a piece.
Morgenstern claims SD has promised him protection because he managed on two evenings in a row to be examined by FW about the family without having taken anyone's party or talked badly about anyone. He also reports that Old Desssauer faked the smoking, as mentioned in other books, and confirms FW liked oboists from the military. (Fredersdorf, watch out!)
Not in Morgenstern: back in the day, FW in his earliest instructions to his son's governors and teachers wanted SD to be the disciplining parent. They were never supposed to threaten little Fritz with him, only with his mother. I knew this, but what I hadn't known was that FW kept this up with the younger kids as well, at least according to Morgenstern, who writes:
Yes, even if the sons were already officers and in uniform with him, and if they'd been noughty, he led the criminal himself to be punished by the mother. Since he had never learned to punish or reward the children, his favourites weren't better treated than the other children, and he didn't distinguish one from the other by special surprises or treats. In my time, the favourites were the princes Wilhelm and Ferdinand, and Princess Ulrike. But since they all didn't get anything than friendly looks, addresses, sometimes kisses, and cheek stroking; so the author dares to claim due to the sheer number of such loving yet unprofitable caresses, the last one named was the one most loved, yes, even esteemed for her firm mind, and because she never showed discontentment or mocking laughter, and if she'd been a son, she'd have been preferred.
But FW believed in the superiority of the male sex too much to make a girl the overall favourite. Money heritage for the boys, btw:
52 000 Reichstaler for Prince Wilhelm
26 000 for Heinrich and Ferdinand each.
In 1737, there was talk of marrying Wilhelm to a Danish princess which since she had only one brother would have given him a shot on the throne. FW was all for it until there was a report that the girl was a dwarf, at which point the marriage was cancelled.
FW and the fight against superstition: stopped the last witch trials state, thought alchemy was rubbish, was in two minds about ghosts; mostly he didn't think they existed, but he wasn't sure about the White Lady ( the appearance of whom supposedly spelled Hohenzollern doom).
Let's see, what else: ah, yes, travel. Mom and Grandmom and Dad all took him along on journeys to the Netherlands when he grew up, and he was very positively impressed, not least by the hygiene. Morgenstern says FW surpassed the Muslims with their five daily washings, and was really very much into cleanlinesss. (Had an obvious reasult with Fritz and hygiene.) Alas the Netherlands lost their holiday trip allure for him when he once at at an inn, the innkeeper lady recognized him and without improving the quality of the food still when later presenting the bill demanded a kingly price from him, over 1000 Taler. When he gave her 30 ducats instead, she screamed after him that he was stiffing her and made a big scandal by clinging to the carriage. And FW never visited the Netherlands again. Otoh, he enjoyed his travellers from afar: Peter the Great was certainly a favourite. And speaking of Peter: look, says Mr. Morgenstern, Peter may get praise now, but in his day he was hated and called a tyrant by a great many of his subjects, too. Also he gave them more cause than FW. I'm sure FW's reputation will go the way of Peter's and rise through subsequent generations, though!