Was Prussia’s Frederick the Great the original “Happy Prince”?

text and photos by Ino Manalo

My favorite among Oscar Wilde’s works is his 1888 tale about a Happy Prince who lived in a palace called Sans Souci. The palace’s name indicated that it was a place where sorrow was not allowed to enter. A statue of the Prince was fashioned upon his death. Gilded with gold, decorated with jewels, and fitted out with a heart of lead, it was installed on a pedestal that commanded a view of the city. Finally made aware of the sadness that burdened the lives of his fellow citizens, the Happy Prince wept. His tears fell on a swallow which was resting before flying off to Egypt for the winter.

The Prince persuaded the bird to be his messenger, distributing his gold covering and jewels to all those in need. Eventually the swallow died, unable to withstand the intensifying cold. It had stayed too long to do the bidding of the Prince that it had learned to love. When the Prince realized what had happened his heart broke in two.

Upon seeing how plain the statue had become, the town officials melted it down. All that was left was the heart which resisted the flames. This ended up being thrown on a dust heap along with the frozen body of the swallow.

It turns out that this haunting tale has a terrestrial connection. There is actually a royal residence called Sans Souci in the town of Potsdam just outside of Berlin. It was built in the 1740s by Frederick the Great as his Summer Palace.

Since I had never thought of this celebrated German monarch as being particularly jovial, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I had the good fortune to visit his retreat. Could Frederick possibly be the model for the Happy Prince?

I must admit that, to begin with, I have not been too clear about the concept of a Summer Palace. As a creature of the tropics, I have always thought of summer as an unbearably torrid period. The greatest luxury then would be to have a house in the mountains were one could find respite in the cooler surroundings. This is, obviously, the idea behind so called “hill stations” like Simla in India and our very own Baguio.

Only recently I came to understand that, in cooler latitudes, summer was cherished as the only time when one could comfortably enjoy the outdoors. One is able to swim and take boat rides, to spend a night on the beach beneath the stars. Too soon, winter would be advancing with its freezing embrace. Summer palaces were built so that kings could revel in the warmth of the season.

Potsdam is known the world over for being the site of the Conference which set the terms of surrender for Japan thereby ending the Second World War. As we neared the town, our guide proudly pointed out a famous school for bodyguards. Driving past, we were treated to the vista of dozens of burly men engaged in exercises. I was tempted to inquire if songs by Whitney Houston were played as inspiration!

At the gates of Sans Souci is a latticed gazebo adorned with a sunburst motif. This invariably elicited a comparison with the Sun King’s ostentatious pile: Versailles. Alongside its French counterpart, the German palace is surprisingly simple. Frederick built ten rooms arranged on just one level. The only reason why the edifice, despite its size, manages to project a commanding presence is the fact that it is situated on a ridge which dominates its surroundings.

The magnificent gardens represent the real link with Versailles. Palace parks of the 18^th century display the perspectives of the Baroque style. Lawns were laid out in endless corridors to emphasize receding vistas and distant vanishing points. This reflects the era’s longing for faraway utopias. I guess the West was quite devastated by Copernicus’s revelation that humanity was no longer the center of the universe. Anxieties engendered in the Europeans’ self-image by the reordering of the solar system fueled a desire to escape a suddenly diminished existence.

The yearning for the exotic manifested itself in a fondness for foreign settings. All over Europe the royal and the wealthy tried to outdo each other in the setting up of orientalist fantasies. Sans Souci was no exception. On its grounds is a lovely Chinese pavilion which served as a venue for dinner parties. Crowning the roof is a statue holding up that ubiquitous symbol of tropical torpidity: a parasol.

What then of the man who had built all these? What was his connection to the protagonist in Oscar Wilde’s fairy tale?

There is little that can be described as felicitous in the biography of Frederick the Great who was also known to his people by the affectionate nickname “Old Fritz”. An absolute monarch, he was, during much of his reign, engaged in wars fought to consolidate his realm. At the time of his death, he had immensely expanded the territorial holdings of his kingdom.

Interestingly, while still a young man, Frederick attempted to run off to England, perhaps to elude the clutches of his disciplinarian father. The escape was unsuccessful and the prince was forced to watch as one of his companions was executed for the crime of desertion.

One bright spot in an otherwise stolid life was Frederick’s friendship with Voltaire. Apparently, the monarch’s main form of relaxation was to spend hours surrounded by intelligent male company discussing philosophy and other cerebral concerns. Our guide had explained that Frederick did not like women and that, though married, he sired no offspring. This, of course, could be a coded revelation of the king’s sexual preferences but I could not find any reliable reference to confirm this.

Frederick evidently meant San Souci to be his sanctuary away from the affairs of state. His own drawing of this dream house showed the true authorship of the palace’s design. One can discern Old Fritz’s notions while walking around his beloved home. The rooms are of modest proportions and not too many. Only a few were ever invited to share these tranquil quarters with the king. The music room is elaborately decorated, an indication of Frederick’s passions as an accomplished flutist.

The oval Marble Hall is the central reception area of the palace. Unlike spaces with similar functions in other royal residences, it is small. This is the setting not for extravagant balls but for intimate dinners. Sparkle was provided by ideas and conversation and not by jewels . The oculus in the ceiling is a metaphor for the bright light of Reason which was to pervade the lives of all.

The Trianons and Marie Antoinette’s Farm were meant to provide relief from the stupefying grandeur of Versailles. But Sans Souci had, from its inception, been erected as a sanctuary. Here its builder hoped to find the peace and fulfillment that he so craved.

What emerges is that Frederick’s own biography was, overall, too grim to have been the model for the Happy Prince. But certainly the idea that happiness is not earned through pomp and splendor is a common theme in both Wilde’s story and the monarch’s life.

Sadly, Old Fritz, despite the vast powers he had wielded while he walked this earth, was denied his dying wish of being buried at San Souci beside his dogs. It would take more than a century before his remains were finally laid to rest on the palace grounds.

Looking at the modest grave marker I was surprised to find it festooned with potatoes. I was later told that these tubers are left as offerings to the German king. One theory holds that this was because he had done much to promote agricultural production.

At the end of Oscar Wilde’s fable, God asks for the two most beautiful things in the city. He is very pleased when an angel fetches the cracked lead heart of the Happy Prince and the cold body of the little swallow.

One has to wonder, after the radiant interiors and verdant parks, after the conquests and the victories, what will the Almighty say about a couple of potatoes?