The Unorthodox Nature of Frederick the Unique
Frederick the Great (1712-1786) (also Frederick II and the
King of Prussia from 1740 to 1786) perhaps epitomized the 'Great Men'
of history, whose force of personality and charisma left lasting impression on
the German legacy. Possessed of a mysterious character whose true nature cannot
be fully discerned from his writings, Frederick was a loquacious yet mysterious persona. Frederick harbored personal animus toward his
militaristic, controlling father (Frederick William), not least because of the
trauma he suffered under his care. The conflict between controlling father and
wayward son was a recurring theme in the story of succession of the
Hohenzollern family. Yet even in light of the perennial tensions between
Hohenzollern monarch and Crown Prince, according to the renown historian
Christopher Clark, ‘never had the struggle between father and son been waged
with such emotional and psychological intensity’.
In attempting to fit ourselves into the mold society has
prepared for us, we cannot forsake our ability for creativity, the same
creativity that makes us unique. We must take the example of Frederick the
Great, who despite extenuating circumstances preserved his eloquence and heterodoxy by dissembling his true emotion.
The Trauma of Friendship
Hans Hermann von Katte was a close friend and intimate of then Crown Prince Frederick. The young, cultivated man was the perfect companion to Frederick’s secular, philosophical and reflective personality and there were reports that ‘they carried on together like a lover with his mistress’. The episode which led to Katte’s unfortunate execution on the orders of Frederick William was a classic Oedipal struggle between father and son. The pathos of the relationship inevitably shaped Frederick II’s personality, for better or for worse. Regardless, the man who would eventually take on the title of “Great” had a penetrating, introspective intellect that colored all his writings.
Hans Hermann von Katte was a close friend and intimate of then Crown Prince Frederick. The young, cultivated man was the perfect companion to Frederick’s secular, philosophical and reflective personality and there were reports that ‘they carried on together like a lover with his mistress’. The episode which led to Katte’s unfortunate execution on the orders of Frederick William was a classic Oedipal struggle between father and son. The pathos of the relationship inevitably shaped Frederick II’s personality, for better or for worse. Regardless, the man who would eventually take on the title of “Great” had a penetrating, introspective intellect that colored all his writings.
The then Crown Prince was rebellious and intransigent, at
least in the eyes of his brutish father, the ‘Soldier King’ Frederick William.
The future Frederick the Great could hardly be more different from his father:
he did not take well to soldierly duties, slept late, had messy hair, liked
reading novels in his mother’s or sister’s room and was possessed of a cunning,
oblique civility. He had first learned to hide his true feelings from the glare
of his father, who was wont to express nothing but contempt for his son’s
lapses in discipline, slapping and humiliating the lad in public at the
slightest provocation or when he engaged in circuitous doublespeak.
Perhaps motivated by his impossible fate at the hands of his
father, Crown Prince Frederick plotted clandestinely, with the aid of Katte, to
make his escape from palace intrigues altogether, albeit in such a careless
manner as to alert his father to his designs. Frederick William ordered the
Crown Prince to be put under constant surveillance, and foiled their planned
flight by engineering the withdrawal of Katte’s leave during which they
intended to escape across the border. It is perhaps a testament to his state of
mind and the resolution with which he intended to escape that the Crown Prince
decided of his own accord one fateful night in August, 1730 to leave his
father’s retinue (which he was accompanying on a journey to South Germany).
Needless to say, he was easily captured, setting the stage for the trauma that
he was about to experienced.
The Crown Prince was imprisoned immediately at the fortress at
Kustrin by his livid father, who cracked down upon the prince’s friends and
collaborators. The brunt of his rage however was directed at Katte, that close
friend of Frederick’s. By attempting to turn him against the throne and plotting
‘high treason’, Katte had committed the very worst form of lèse majesté; for him the only redemption could be death.
Thus, Katte was sentenced to death. His execution by
decapitation would take place in the fortress at Kustrin, in full view of the
Crown Prince’s cell. As recounts have it, Frederick fainted into the arms of
his guards just before the very moment of his friend’s decapitation. For days
after that he would hover in a state of mental anguish, perhaps fueled by a
sense of his imminent death.
It is easy to think that such an incident was the cause for
the ossification of Frederick’s personality, turning him acerbic and hard,
unwilling even in his private discourse to expose his true self. Yet it is
impossible to know the true form of the pressure his father put him through
that resulted in his affected personality. So it is that his greatness passed
into posterity an enigma, confounding historians with a mystery that cannot be unraveled.
Philosopher King
As the Prussian monarch that would become immortalized as
Frederick the Great, the King’s literary passions, the same infatuations of his
youth, would evolve and exert a profound influence on his writings (works like
his Anti-Machiavel, which in purely
calculative fashion set the conditions that should galvanize a pre-emptive
war). Throughout his war years, Frederick never stopped reading, devouring the
works of Fenelon, Descartes, Bayle, Voltaire, Locke, Cicero and Rousseau among
a multitude of others. He managed during his military expeditions by setting up
field libraries and practicing not only his literary hand but also his musical
skills (manifest in his love for playing the flute) through his many long, cold
campaigns.
His superior intellect in things abstract combined with the
raw power of the Hohenzollern throne to create the ‘Philosopher King’ whom was
widely respected and glorified through panegyrics, encomiums and hagiographies –
even by Hitler, who hoped, albeit untruthfully, to leverage Prussian patriotism
in this way. In Frederick all worldly gifts seem to have converged. They were
utilized ostensibly to their fullest extent in expanding the borders of Prussia
and through three Silesian Wars, the first of which was executed in the very
year of his accession, firmly established the Hohenzollern lands as one of the
lesser powers operating on the world stage.
In analyzing Frederick the Great as a person, one cannot
ignore his intensely philosophical and reflective personality. Deeply
considering the travails of his era and specifically of his as yet fledgling
kingdom gave him confidence, or perhaps more accurately the understanding as to
how much that confidence should be tempered, in discharging his duty. He
understood how to justify and rationalize his actions and applied these
judiciously in his definitive histories of his many campaigns. Such a man is
unique, no doubt. Yet as a unique specimen experiencing all the estrangement
and alienation of his condition, he was never diverted from his goal, relying
on his intense personal reflection to shape his actions and impact history.
Rebellious Deviant
As a sui generis
specimen even amongst great men, Frederick the Great’s penchant for deviant
attitudes is well-documented but not fully scoped out as a result of his
silence with respect to his true self. Throughout his life he had possessed
firm disregard of religious notions, describing the main confessional
denominations such as Christianity as ‘an old metaphysical fiction, stuffed
with miracles, contradictions and absurdities, which was spawned in the fevered
imagination of the Orientals and then spread to our Europe, where some fanatics
espoused it, some intriguers pretended to be convinced by it and some imbeciles
actually believed it.’ Here was a rationalist – and exception rather than the
norm – who would not be influenced by fanciful notions and superstitions.
In an age where non-conformity to religious sensibilities
isolated oneself, Frederick the Great bravely stuck to his beliefs and
personal, albeit atheistic, reflections. Even more shocking perhaps was the
relaxed attitude he took to questions of sexual morality, in an age where
Victorian-style conservatism dictated taboos. A man allegedly sentenced to
death for engaging in repugnant bestiality with a she-donkey was personally
pardoned by Frederick, who proclaimed rather wittily that ‘in his lands one
enjoyed freedom of both conscience and penis’. While its veracity (it was a
story recounted by Voltaire) is suspect, it conveys the sense of sexual freedom
one had as a part of Frederick’s milieu.
Frederick’s own sexuality is cast in doubt by his friend
Voltaire, who claimed that the King enjoyed daily bouts of ‘schoolboy amusement’
and had clandestine sessions with young cadets and stable hands. While there
were likewise rumors of his heterosexual dalliances, these all came from the
world of courtly gossip; Frederick himself confided to a Grumbkow that he felt ‘too
little attracted to the female sex’ to be able to imagine marriage.
Whatever the case, it is certain that this was a very
different sort of King, of a definitely differentiated stock from the usual
heirs to the throne. His stubbornness in persisting in his conception of
himself is laudable, much more so because of the era in which he lived.
Masculinity
What could not have been in doubt was the intensely
masculine nature of Frederick the Great’s Court, an unlikely successor to his
father’s Tobacco Ministry by virtue of the former’s intense antipathy.
Nevertheless, decrying his father’s brutish character seems not to have
extended to his misogyny: throughout Frederick’s reign, women came to disappear
almost entirely from courtly life.
In this, and perhaps also as a result of his possible
homosexuality Frederick the Great found himself free from the confines imposed
by womanly temptation. Even his wife, Elisabeth of Brunswick-Bevern, he
consigned to a sort of twilight existence at one of his many abodes. In 22
years, he was present at only two of her birthdays, commenting rather
laconically that ‘Madame has grown fat’.
While Frederick the Great was certainly a larger-than-life
figure, he broke so many conventions in his own era and even in relation to contemporary norms, that there is no shortage of novelty to be found
from recounts of his life. Perhaps ‘Old Fritz’ had immortalized himself by
living life to the extreme: always on terms solely his own.
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