The Royal Academy of Sciences did me the honor of choosing me as an honorary member. I was only worthy of it through my love for science.
In the year 1742, I married Oriane Louise Baronne de Knyphausen, eldest daughter of the late Monsieur His Excellency von Knyphausen, Minister of the State and War Cabinet of King Frederick William, and of Louise Charlotte née Baroness d'Ilgen. Providence seemed to want to reward me for the past and the future by this happy marriage which alone constitutes the consolation of my life and its only happiness for the ten years that I've enjoyed the sweetness of the manner of my wife, whose virtues are exemplary, a cultivated expression without any vanity, a right and penetrating judgment modest in everything, and excellent heart. It seems that I praise her while I only speak the simple truth.
There's a marginal note that reads "The portrait that a husband makes can hardly be ____ in this regard." He's changed the word he wants to write there and written over it (not above it, literally overwriting the original word), making it completely illegible. It might be "suspect", but who knows.
Everyone who knows us knows that I believe the truth and that my wife's character cannot be flattered. God has blessed our marriage with two boys
Marginal note: "Charles Ernst Reinhard et Frederic Louis." This is why I believe the rarely ocurring "Peter" in Carl Ernst's name is a mistake by a bureaucrat (including Leining, actually, I think!), since neither Peter nor Carl Ernst ever write "Peter", but only Carl Ernst or Carl Ernst Reinhard.
who contribute, through the hopes they give from their characters and dispositions, to making our lives sweet. We are content in the state of mediocrity and live without envy of anyone's fortune.
We do not deny anyone our support and we are content to lead a frugal life. The president of the Royal Academy of Sciences proposed me to the King and His Majesty approved to replace the late His Excellency Monsieur de Borck in the position of curator of the academy. It is a place of honor that I had not hoped for and as it only deals with economic affairs, I did not hesitate to accept it, being convinced of being able to suffice for the functions assigned to this honorable office.
Marginal note: "in the year 1747, if I'm not mistaken."
You're not, Peter, unlike 1729!
There are a couple other minor marginal notes that are of less interest, but one I forgot to mention in the previous post confirms what Formey said about Peter being about to depart Portugal for Goa in the East Indies when Fritz's summons came. He was going to be ADC to the Comte de Ericeira (he spelled it so differently I had to consult Wikipedia) and a colonel. It would have been a very different life!
And there the memoirs end. I am so delighted that four years ago, when I first reported "...Peter's own memoirs, 'Anecdotes of my Life.' Which, no, I don't know if those are still extant, but I'm guessing no. (Stupid 1945.) Or if so, they're probably unpublished and languishing in some archive somewhere," they ended up being unpublished and languishing in an archive somewhere that I got access to and ended up being able to decipher! \O/ (Thank you so much for the help, selenak!)
Also, my chronologically inclined self is amused:
June 2020: Discovery of Peter's eulogy. June 2023: Discovery of Peter's memoirs. Late May 2024: Final decipherment of Peter's memoirs.
Clearly, early summer is a Peter time of year! And as Selena pointed out yesterday, May 24 is his birthday. Happy birthday, Peter! I deciphered your memoirs!
(The essay still needs a bit of tweaking, but we are veeeery close.)
no subject
In the year 1742, I married Oriane Louise Baronne de Knyphausen, eldest daughter of the late Monsieur His Excellency von Knyphausen, Minister of the State and War Cabinet of King Frederick William, and of Louise Charlotte née Baroness d'Ilgen. Providence seemed to want to reward me for the past and the future by this happy marriage which alone constitutes the consolation of my life and its only happiness for the ten years that I've enjoyed the sweetness of the manner of my wife, whose virtues are exemplary, a cultivated expression without any vanity, a right and penetrating judgment modest in everything, and excellent heart. It seems that I praise her while I only speak the simple truth.
There's a marginal note that reads "The portrait that a husband makes can hardly be ____ in this regard." He's changed the word he wants to write there and written over it (not above it, literally overwriting the original word), making it completely illegible. It might be "suspect", but who knows.
Everyone who knows us knows that I believe the truth and that my wife's character cannot be flattered. God has blessed our marriage with two boys
Marginal note: "Charles Ernst Reinhard et Frederic Louis." This is why I believe the rarely ocurring "Peter" in Carl Ernst's name is a mistake by a bureaucrat (including Leining, actually, I think!), since neither Peter nor Carl Ernst ever write "Peter", but only Carl Ernst or Carl Ernst Reinhard.
who contribute, through the hopes they give from their characters and dispositions, to making our lives sweet. We are content in the state of mediocrity and live without envy of anyone's fortune.
We do not deny anyone our support and we are content to lead a frugal life. The president of the Royal Academy of Sciences proposed me to the King and His Majesty approved to replace the late His Excellency Monsieur de Borck in the position of curator of the academy. It is a place of honor that I had not hoped for and as it only deals with economic affairs, I did not hesitate to accept it, being convinced of being able to suffice for the functions assigned to this honorable office.
Marginal note: "in the year 1747, if I'm not mistaken."
You're not, Peter, unlike 1729!
There are a couple other minor marginal notes that are of less interest, but one I forgot to mention in the previous post confirms what Formey said about Peter being about to depart Portugal for Goa in the East Indies when Fritz's summons came. He was going to be ADC to the Comte de Ericeira (he spelled it so differently I had to consult Wikipedia) and a colonel. It would have been a very different life!
And there the memoirs end. I am so delighted that four years ago, when I first reported "...Peter's own memoirs, 'Anecdotes of my Life.' Which, no, I don't know if those are still extant, but I'm guessing no. (Stupid 1945.) Or if so, they're probably unpublished and languishing in some archive somewhere," they ended up being unpublished and languishing in an archive somewhere that I got access to and ended up being able to decipher! \O/ (Thank you so much for the help,
Also, my chronologically inclined self is amused:
June 2020: Discovery of Peter's eulogy.
June 2023: Discovery of Peter's memoirs.
Late May 2024: Final decipherment of Peter's memoirs.
Clearly, early summer is a Peter time of year! And as Selena pointed out yesterday, May 24 is his birthday. Happy birthday, Peter! I deciphered your memoirs!
(The essay still needs a bit of tweaking, but we are veeeery close.)