Queen Louise of Prussia

18 Aug

by Rhea H. Boyden


What can one do to console the great King Frederick’s grief as his beautiful, young and devoted wife perishes in his arms of a summer’s day? His tears are hotter and more bitter than hers were when her own first Princess was dead before she ever breathed her first breath. He can allow his loyal subjects to cast her likeness in bronze and cover them in wild spring flowers to honour her. They will do it willingly. She gained their respect. She came to court merrily from the land. Being Queen allowed her to hold people’s babies and kiss them tenderly. Allowed her to spread her copper coins happily among the ragged townsfolk. Frederick heeded her well when she spoke, whether in her Prussian tongue or the tongue of Napoleon that she mastered before he attacked their fair land. Schiller and Goethe captured her young heart and Frederick would make her his guide and love. Her lovely crown of turquoise that she wore so well, did not oppress or hurt her beautiful head full of blonde locks. Her big, round inquisitive eyes still stare out from a far more telling likeness. One of oil and not of bronze. Do the modern Prussian girls know of her savvy and loyal way? Do they also use their inquisitive eyes and minds to use her as a guide? The browning flowers on the fair bronze head must not be forgotten. They must be replaced with the fresh lushness of colour and life of our newly blossomed petals. The same lushness that once bestowed her rosy and lovely cheeks.

Portrait by Josef Grassi

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