ABSTRACT
The body of Frederick I lay in state in full baroque splendour, with the trappings of an age he had loved, admired and done so much to emulate in his barren kingdom. At his feet, deep in thought, stood the new King, Frederick William I. Rather abruptly he straightened himself, turned on his heels and walked out of the room leaving behind him not only the body of his father, the guard of honour and the dim light of the candles, but also another age. The threshold which he crossed was one into an era he meant to be vastly different from that of his father.
