The king was not a little vain of the keen thrusts he could occasionally give the clergy. In a letter to Marie-Antoine, Electress of Saxony, dated Potsdam, May 3, 1768, he, with much apparent complacency, records the following witty achievement:
Director
Destruction of the Army of Prince Charles.Dismay in Vienna.Testimony of Napoleon I.Of Voltaire.Wretchedness of the King.Compromise rejected.New Preparations for War.Treaty between England and Prussia.Plan of the Campaign.Siege of Olmütz.Death of Prince Augustus William.The Baggage Train.The irreparable Disaster.Anxiety of Frederick for Wilhelmina.The March against the Russians.The Battle of Zorndorf.Anecdotes of Frederick.On the 28th of June, 1729, the population of Bühlitz, a Hanoverian border village, sallied forth with carts, escorted by a troop of horse, and, with demonstrations both defiant and exultant, raked up and carried off all the hay. The King of Prussia happened to be at that time about one hundred miles distant from Bühlitz, at Magdeburg, reviewing his troops. He was thrown into a towering passion. Sophie Dorothee, Wilhelmina, Fritz, all felt the effects of his rage. Dubourgay writes, under date of July 30, 1729:The king was scrupulously clean, washing five times a day. He would allow no drapery, no stuffed furniture, no carpets in27 his apartments. They caught dust. He sat upon a plain wooden chair. He ate roughly, like a farmer, of roast beef, despising all delicacies. His almost invariable dress was a close military blue coat, with red cuffs and collar, buff waistcoat and breeches, and white linen gaiters to the knee. A sword was belted around his loins, and, as we have said, a stout rattan or bamboo cane ever in his hand. A well-worn, battered, triangular hat covered his head. He walked rapidly through the streets which surrounded his palaces at Potsdam and Berlin. If he met any one who attracted his attention, male or female, he would abruptly, menacingly inquire, Who are you? A street-lounger he has been known to hit over the head with his cane, exclaiming, Home, you rascal, and go to work. If any one prevaricated or hesitated, he would sternly demand, Look me in the face. If there were still hesitancy, or the king were dissatisfied with the answers, the one interrogated was lucky if he escaped without a caning.3Think of the sounds, writes Carlyle, uttered from human windpipes, shrill with rage, some of them, hoarse others with ditto; of the vituperations, execrations, printed and vocalgrating harsh thunder upon Frederick and this new course of his. Huge melody of discords, shrieking, groaning, grinding on that topic through the afflicted universe in general.