Emil Frommel

Emil Frommel (1828–1896) was a German theologian and author, born at Karlsruhe. He studied at Halle upon Saale, Erlangen, and Heidelberg, held several pastorates, served as army chaplain in the Franco-German War of 1870–1871 and in 1872 was appointed court preacher at Berlin and pastor of the garrison in that city. His principal theological works include:

• Die zehn Gebote Gottes in Predigten (sixth edition, 1898)
• In drei Stufen, an anthology (eighth edition, 1890)
• Festflammen, (sixth edition, 1896)
• Das Gebet des Herrn in Predigten (fourth edition, 1893)

He also wrote tales and miscellaneous essays, collected and published under the title of Gesammelte Schriften, Erzählungen für das Volk, Aufsätze und Vorträge (1873–1897).

1899, in the introduction to the book Eingeschneit, the editor William Bernhardt wrote:

The ranks of those illustrious men who a few decades ago, in war and peace, stood by the side of Emperor Wilhelm I.--of glorious memory--have gradually thinned. On the 9th of November, 1896, another of the few then surviving--Dr. Emil Frommel, Supreme Councillor of the Prussian Consistory, formerly chaplain to the Imperial Court and pastor of the "Garnisonkirche" in Berlin--closed his eyes forever. He was a man whose eminent gifts, both of mind and heart, had been thoroughly tested and fully appreciated not only by his personal friend, the old Emperor, but also by the latter's son, the noble-hearted and much lamented Friedrich, and his grandson, Wilhelm II., the present shaper of the destiny of the Fatherland. Frommel was a minister of the gospel "by divine grace," possessed of a deep and unaffected piety and love for mankind, an enrapturing pulpit-orator, a scholar of clear and keen intellect, a man endowed with the purest nobility of soul and intrepid courage, a writer for the masses, in whom the acme of moral gravity appeared felicitously blended with an always present and all refreshing humor, a fervent patriot and accomplished courtier, though far from every courtly flattery and obsequiousness.

Emil Frommel was a native of Southern Germany. Born at Karlsruhe, in the grand-duchy of Baden, on January 5, 1828, as the son of the director of the ducal art gallery of that place, he devoted himself to the study of theology at the universities of Halle, Erlangen, and Heidelberg. In 1850, he was called as vicar to the village of Alt-Lussheim, near Schwetzingen (Baden), whence four years later he went as vicar to Karlsruhe, his native town. In 1864, he followed a call to Barmen, that great industrial center of Westphalia, and again five years later, he accepted the place as pastor of the "Garnisonkirche" in Berlin. Hardly had he become familiar with his new surroundings, when, in the summer of 1870, the Franco-German war broke out. As a field chaplain he followed the army into France, camping amidst his beloved "blue soldier-boys" during the siege of Strasbourg, and preaching to them, after the surrender of that old stronghold, the first German sermon in St. Thomas.--In June, 1871, on the triumphal return of the Berlin garrison, Frommel occupied again the pulpit of the "Garnisonkirche" and delivered in the presence of the Emperor and the allied German sovereigns that memorable sermon in commemoration of the heroic dead. On the occasion of the 150th anniversary of the consecration of the "Garnisonkirche," he was created chaplain to the Imperial Court.

In an almost daily intercourse with his Imperial master, Frommel soon had completely taken the heart of the affable old hero, whom from 1872 to 1887, year after year, he accompanied to "Wildbad Gastein," the famous watering place in the Austrian Alps, where in the little Protestant church of that Catholic district the old warrior joined the few Lutheran mountaineers in their devotional exercises, listening to the words of his chaplain, whose sermon he could not afford to miss--as he said--for a single Sunday in the year. "I am particularly indebted to you," once remarked the Emperor, "that in your sermons you never refer to me."--"Well, your majesty," replied Frommel, "I think that it must be quite a hard task for you to bear the crown six days of each week, and that on the Sabbath you should have a right to be relieved from your burden and feel like a plain Christian in the house of the Lord."

It was by no means in the Imperial household alone that Frommel was so exceptionally honored; the highest circles of Berlin society, artists, diplomats, literary and military men, religious and infidels, all strove in rivalry to pay homage to the popular pastor of the "Garnisonkirche." His wedding-, christening-, and burial-sermons were masterpieces of oratory; though plainly conceived and plainly delivered and free from all and every unctious pathos, they abounded with thought, true feeling, and poetical beauty. Frommel was destined to speak at the graves of most of the great leaders of the war of 1870–1871, including Prince August of Württemberg, Moltke, Roon, Alvensleben, Kirchbach, and Kameke; the danger to become, on such occasions, a panegyrist, he has always judiciously avoided, thanks to his delicate taste and independence of conviction.

It would be a great mistake to suspect that the adulation of those foremost in life and society had been able to dazzle even for a moment Frommel's sound judgment or make him turn his back to the other half of humanity. Quite the contrary! His generous heart beat warmest of all for the great community of the poor and afflicted. The thousands of Berlin cab-drivers were his most devoted friends, and to the amelioration of the deplorable lot of the German waiters he directed his loving interest. The endless train of mendicants who at all times besieged the parsonage, never knew him but "from his very best side." For an old vagabond tailor who had seen better days, he secures work, thus laying a solid foundation for an honest and certain existence; in the superannuated sick and penniless actor, who salutes him as "a colleague in an allied profession," he readily discovers a parson's scion, and dismisses him with a most positive proof of his generosity.

What wonder that the pastor of the "Garnisonkirche" had gradually grown to be one of the most popular figures of the national capital of Germany, and this all the more so as he, the southerner by birth, education, and mode of viewing things, had so completely caught the peculiar Berlin humor and ready wit in address and reply, that in no wise he differed from the true-born Berliner! And on what excellent terms was he with the young folks not only of his immense congregation, but of Berlin, nay, of the whole country, wherever he met them on his extended tours through the Empire!

Amidst the most various and trying engagements, Frommel lived in Berlin for twenty-six years. What an immense amount of work he accomplished within that time, can be understood from his own statement in his farewell sermon of Sunday, April 19, 1896, where he said: "While in Berlin, I have baptized 1838 children, united in wedlock 1526 couples, confirmed 1980 school-children, and buried 1709 dead. Of the churches in Berlin, I have preached in all but one, and in sixty-five cities all over Germany I have delivered either sermons or lectures." So we cannot much wonder that on the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of his installation as pastor of the "Garnisonkirche," he submitted to his Imperial master the petition for retirement from his charge. His request was most graciously complied with, and at the same time he was commissioned by Imperial brevet as an "officer à la suite of the army," a distinction never before in the history of Germany conferred upon a military chaplain.--Soon after, in the spring of 1896, Emperor Wilhelm II. called him to his castle, Ploen, charmingly situated upon the shore of the Ploener Lake in the Prussian province of Schleswig-Holstein, to superintend the tuition of his two oldest sons, Crown-Prince Wilhelm and Prince Eitel Friedrich. Full of happy anticipation of a quiet and restful evening of life in one of the most idyllic parts of Germany, Frommel entered upon his new and honorable duties with a truly youthful vigor and enthusiasm, but alas--after a few months' stay at Ploen, owing to an old ailment which had reappeared under more alarming symptoms than ever before, he had to submit to a chirurgical operation, and it was under the knives of the surgeons that on the 9th day of November, 1896, Emil Frommel breathed his last, at the age of sixty-eight years.

Frommel's personal appearance was the harmonious representation of his inner life. His kind and youthful face, brightened by benevolent blue eyes, was encircled by long and full silver-white hair and made such a deep impression, that once seen it could not easily be forgotten.

As a writer, Frommel is best known as the author of a long series of stories for the masses, which on account of their unaffected piety, vigorous language and healthy humor have become exceedingly popular with all classes. They are published by Wiegandt & Grieben (Berlin), in eleven volumes under the general title, »Gesammelte Schriften--Erzählungen, Aufsätze und Vorträge.« Our story »Eingeschneit« taken from the sixth volume (»Aus der Sommerfrische«) relates a humorous travelling adventure from the author's own merry college-life, when a student of divinity at the university of Erlangen. It will not be a difficult task for the reader to discover which of the three jovial young fellows, who, one fine summer-day, started to see for themselves whether the world really is as round as their professor had claimed, was the one who in after-life became so widely known as "Emil Frommel."

WILHELM BERNHARDT. Washington, D.C., February, 1899.

• This article incorporates text from a publication now in the public domain: Gilman, D. C.; Thurston, H. T.; Moore, F., eds. (1905). "article name needed". New International Encyclopedia (1st ed.). New York: Dodd, Mead.