cahn | Frederick the Great, discussion post 5: or: Yuletide requests are out!

As to the memoirs, they're translated from French into Polish.

Frederick: And now the king of Poland has died like a fool! I do not like these people who do everything at the wrong time.
Ghost of August III: >:(

In 1769, Friedrich began a work, Le Chant de Confédérés, on the Confederation of Bar in P-L. He depicts the Bishop of Kiev as a crazed bigot with a library whihc has no books, only relics and a painting depicting the St. Bartholemew's Day massacre in France. The Bishop of Kiev was Józef Andrzej Załuski, who was co-founder of the first public library in the Commonwealth and one of the first public libraries in Europe in general.

Władysław Konopczyński wrote a whole book (though not a long one) about Fritz and Poland. He mentions a work from 1779, L’ Orangoutang de l'Europe, alleging the Poles were descended from orangutans (not a general human evolution argument; it was not applied to other nations) and says that it was ascribed by contemporary opinion to Frederick's authorship. Later though, an officer expelled from the Corps de Cadets in Warsaw for theft, a man named Kermorwand, has been blamed. Apparently it was based on a lecture given at the Berlin Academy the decade before - by a Polish woman.

I may or may not add features to my script every time we start a new discussion post. I may or may not have spent my twenties wondering if I might be on the autism spectrum. ;)

~/Downloads/cahn_comments_script$ ./word_counts.sh refresh
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mildred 110119 474
selenak 80117 247
cahn 23352 300
deathsblood 603 2
taelle 582 4

Word Total: 214773
Comment Total: 1027

Maybe next time I'll get it to do some html formatting, so it displays better in DW. It's currently formatted for my terminal (and very nice it looks there indeed).

Now back to trying to figure out if I can do a Yuletide treat. Crackfic will have to wait. :DD

He was keeping a detailed diary of everything Fritz said in that first year largely so as to take notes and limit his chances of saying the wrong thing.

That is amazing and while I am sure it must have been stressful, I kind of love that detail. Holy cow.

It gets better! Casanova's memoirs provide an amazing example of what happens when you *don't* get a chance to study and it's pop quiz time! I'm going to quote at length from his memoirs here, because they're so readable, and he does a great job of conveying just how stressful it was.

When I got home I wrote a plain but respectful letter to the king, asking where and at what time I could introduce myself to him.

In two days I received a letter signed 'Frederick,' in which the receipt of my letter was acknowledged, and I was told that I should find his majesty in the garden of Sans-Souci at four o’clock.

As may be imagined I was punctual to my appointment. I was at Sans-Souci at three, clad in a simple black dress. When I got into the court-yard there was not so much as a sentinel to stop me, so I went on mounted a stair, and opened a door in front of me. I found myself in a picture-gallery, and the curator came up to me and offered to shew me over it.

“I have not come to admire these masterpieces,” I replied, “but to see the king, who informed me in writing that I should find him in the garden.”

“He is now at a concert playing the flute; he does so every day after dinner. Did he name any time?”

“Yes, four o’clock, but he will have forgotten that.”

“The king never forgets anything; he will keep the appointment, and you will do well to go into the garden and await him.”

I had been in the garden for some minutes when I saw him appear, followed by his reader and a pretty spaniel. As soon as he saw me he accosted me, taking off his old hat, and pronouncing my name. Then he asked in a terrible voice what I wanted of him. This greeting surprised me, and my voice stuck in my throat.

“Well, speak out. Are you not the person who wrote to me?”

“Yes, sire, but I have forgotten everything now. I thought that I should not be awed by the majesty of a king, but I was mistaken. My lord-marshal should have warned me.”

“Then he knows you? Let us walk. What is it that you want? What do you think of my garden?”

His enquiries after my needs and of his garden were simultaneous. To any other person I should have answered that I did not know anything about gardening, but this would have been equivalent to refusing to answer the question; and no monarch, even if he be a philosopher, could endure that. I therefore replied that I thought the garden superb.

“But,” he said, “the gardens of Versailles are much finer.”

“Yes, sire, but that is chiefly on account of the fountains.”

“True, but it is not my fault; there is no water here. I have spent more than three hundred thousand crowns to get water, but unsuccessfully.”

“Three hundred thousand crowns, sire! If your majesty had spent them all at once, the fountains should be here.”

“Oh, oh! I see you are acquainted with hydraulics.”

I could not say that he was mistaken, for fear of offending him, so I simply bent my head, which might mean either yes or no. Thank God the king did not trouble to test my knowledge of the science of hydraulics, with which I was totally unacquainted.

He kept on the move all the time, and as he turned his head from one side to the other hurriedly asked me what forces Venice could put into the field in war time.

“Twenty men-of-war, sire, and a number of galleys.”

“What are the land forces?”

“Seventy thousand men, sire; all of whom are subjects of the Republic, and assessing each village at one man.”

“That is not true; no doubt you wish to amuse me by telling me these fables. Give me your opinions on taxation.”

This was the first conversation I had ever had with a monarch. I made a rapid review of the situation, and found myself much in the same position as an actor of the improvised comedy of the Italians, who is greeted by the hisses of the gods if he stops short a moment. I therefore replied with all the airs of a doctor of finance that I could say something about the theory of taxation.

“That’s what I want,” he replied, “for the practice is no business of yours.”

“There are three kinds of taxes, considered as to their effects. The first is ruinous, the second a necessary evil, and the third invariably beneficial.”

“Good! Go on.”

“The ruinous impost is the royal tax, the necessary is the military, and the beneficial is the popular.”

As I had not given the subject any thought I was in a disagreeable position, for I was obliged to go on speaking, and yet not to talk nonsense.

“The royal tax, sire, is that which deplenishes the purses of the subject to fill the coffers of the king.”

“And that kind of tax is always ruinous, you think.”

“Always, sire; it prevents the circulation of money—the soul of commerce and the mainstay of the state.”

“But if the tax be levied to keep up the strength of the army, you say it is a necessary evil.”

“Yes, it is necessary and yet evil, for war is an evil.”

“Quite so; and now about the popular tax.”

“This is always a benefit, for the monarch takes with one hand and gives with the other; he improves towns and roads, founds schools, protects the sciences, cherishes the arts; in fine, he directs this tax towards improving the condition and increasing the happiness of his people.”

“There is a good deal of truth in that. I suppose you know Calsabigi?”

“I ought to, your majesty, as he and I established the Genoa Lottery at Paris seven years ago.”

“In what class would you put this taxation, for you will agree that it is taxation of a kind?”

“Certainly, sire, and not the least important. It is beneficial when the monarch spends his profits for the good of the people.”

“But the monarch may lose?”

“Once in fifty.”

“Is that conclusion the result of a mathematical calculation?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Such calculations often prove deceptive.”

“Not so, may it please your majesty, when God remains neutral.”

“What has God got to do with it?”

“Well, sire, we will call it destiny or chance.”

“Good! I may possibly be of your opinion as to the calculation, but I don’t like your Genoese Lottery. It seems to me an elaborate swindle, and I would have nothing more to do with it, even if it were positively certain that I should never lose.”

“Your majesty is right, for the confidence which makes the people risk their money in a lottery is perfectly fallacious.”

This was the end of our strange dialogue, and stopping before a building he looked me over, and then, after a short silence, observed,—

“Do you know that you are a fine man?”

“Is it possible that, after the scientific conversation we have had, your majesty should select the least of the qualities which adorn your life guardsmen for remark?”

The king smiled kindly, and said,—

“As you know Marshal Keith, I will speak to him of you.”

With that he took off his hat, and bade me farewell. I retired with a profound bow.

Three or four days after the marshal gave me the agreeable news that I had found favour in the king’s eyes, and that his majesty thought of employing me.

I was curious to learn the nature of this employment, and being in no kind of hurry I resolved to await events in Berlin.

[Buuut, then, he nopes right out of Fritz-as-boss.]

Five or six weeks after my curious conversation with the monarch, Marshal Keith told me that his majesty had been pleased to create me a tutor to the new corps of Pomeranian cadets which he was just establishing. There were to be fifteen cadets and five tutors, so that each should have the care of three pupils. The salary was six hundred crowns and board found. The duty of the tutors was to follow or accompany the cadets wherever they went, Court included. I had to be quick in making up my mind, for the four others were already installed, and his majesty did not like to be kept waiting. I asked Lord Keith where the college was, and I promised to give him a reply by the next day.

I had to summon all my powers of self-restraint to my assistance when I heard this extravagant proposal as coming from a man who was so discreet in most things, but my astonishment was increased when I saw the abode of these fifteen young noblemen of rich Pomerania. It consisted of three or four great rooms almost devoid of furniture, several whitewashed bedrooms, containing a wretched bed, a deal table, and two deal chairs. The young cadets, boys of twelve or thirteen, all looked dirty and untidy, and were boxed up in a wretched uniform which matched admirably their rude and rustic faces. They were in company with their four governors, whom I took for their servants, and who looked at me in a stupefied manner, not daring to think that I was to be their future colleague.

Just as I was going to bid an eternal farewell to this abode of misery, one of the governors put his head out of the window and exclaimed,—

“The king is riding up.”

I could not avoid meeting him, and besides, I was glad enough to see him again, especially in such a place.

His majesty came up with his friend Icilius, examined everything, and saw me, but did not honour me with a word. I was elegantly dressed, and wore my cross set with brilliants. But I had to bite my lips so as not to burst out laughing when Frederick the Great got in a towering rage at a chamber utensil which stood beside one of the beds, and which did not appear to be in a very cleanly condition.

“Whose bed is this?” cried the monarch.

“Mine, sire,” answered a trembling cadet.

“Good! but it is not you I am angry with; where is your governor?”

The fortunate governor presented himself, and the monarch, after honouring him with the title of blockhead, proceeded to scold him roundly. However, he ended by saying that there was a servant, and that the governor ought to see that he did his work properly. This disgusting scene was enough for me, and I hastened to call on Marshal Keith to announce my determination. The old soldier laughed at the description I gave him of the academy, and said I was quite right to despise such an office; but that I ought, nevertheless, to go and thank the king before I left Berlin. I said I did not feel inclined for another interview with such a man, and he agreed to present my thanks and excuses in my stead.

I made up my mind to go to Russia, and began my preparations in good earnest.

[OMG, run away, run away!]

Baron Bodisson, a Venetian who wanted to sell the king a picture by Andrea del Sarto, asked me to come with him to Potsdam and the desire of seeing the monarch once again made me accept the invitation. When I reached Potsdam I went to see the parade at which Frederick was nearly always to be found. When he saw me he came up and asked me in a familiar manner when I was going to start for St. Petersburg.

“In five or six days, if your majesty has no objection.”

“I wish you a pleasant journey; but what do you hope to do in that land?”

“What I hoped to do in this land, namely, to please the sovereign.”

“Have you got an introduction to the empress?”

“No, but I have an introduction to a banker.”

“Ah! that’s much better. If you pass through Prussia on your return I shall be delighted to hear of your adventures in Russia.”

“Farewell, sire.”

Such was the second interview I had with this great king, whom I never saw again.

Does anyone else find this as hilarious as I do?

[Catt: And this is why I always take notes! (Catt observes in his memoirs that after the first year or so, he finally felt equal to the task of having a conversation with Fritz without freaking out, so his diary became less minute. Lol everyone.)]

Also, the Gutenberg copy of Casanova's memoirs has this delightful note at the beginning: "[Transcriber’s Note: These memoires were not written for children, they may outrage readers also offended by Chaucer, La Fontaine, Rabelais and The Old Testament. D.W.]"

I need to finish Wilhelmine's memoirs and also a few other items on my two other items on my 18th century to-read list, but Casanova's memoirs look fascinating. I might actually read them properly.

Edited 2019-11-08 04:07 (UTC)

On Algarotti and polymathy.

Maupertuis (remember Maupertuis? Captured by Austrians when joining Fritz on campaign, president of the Academy of Sciences in Berlin, quarreled with Voltaire?), back in 1736 (aka when Fritz was still Crown Prince), went on an Arctic expedition to Lapland.

The reason is actually kinda cool. You know how the Earth bulges at the center and is kind of flat on the top, because of gravity and rotation and all that? Whether it was bulging at the center, or stretched out toward the poles like an egg, was a big scientific debate at the time. Maupertuis was convinced it was the former, so he led an expedition in the direction of the North Pole to take measurements. This expedition ended up proving him right.

Anyway, Algarotti was invited to help take measurements and also write poetry to immortalize and popularize the expedition. Which is pretty cool, because not everyone is qualified to be the scientist and the poet of the expedition.

Unfortunately, posterity didn't always appreciate Algarotti's polymathy. The Algarotti dissertation recounts a scene from a novel written in 1869:

"In a scene that is set in 1750, a party is held in honour of Algarotti's arrival in Venice. In it, one of the characters asks to know who the 'pallid, skinny little thing with the necklace, the medallions, and the cross on his chest' is. He is told that this person is Algarotti, who is then described with a touch of sarcasm as, 'member of all the universities, and of all the academies that ever were, that are, and that ever will be; astronomer, poet, painter, architect, violinist...Of many people it is usual to ask what they are...in his case, one ought rather to ask what he is not.'"

As someone who was given a good-natured ribbing by a fellow student in high school for monopolizing all the prizes and awards, to the point of being accused of being named "best male athlete" (I was neither male nor an athlete--although the track coach tried to recruit me for four years: I was notoriously faster than the male athletes)...I sympathize, Algarotti. I will join you in "Posterity: Mildred who?" land. <3

Long tangent: the reason Algarotti didn't end up going to Lapland with Maupertuis was that he was choosing between this offer and a simultaneous offer to come live with Voltaire and Émilie du Châtelet. He ended up choosing the latter, which was kind of interesting.

Voltaire was jealous, saying that if it weren't so cold, he would have accepted a position as poet, if he had been invited. [Me: That's a lot of "if"s, Voltaire.] But since it was cold and he wasn't invited, he and du Châtelet were like, "Pleeeeease, pleeeease come live with us! We love you forever! We're way better than Lapland! We will appreciate you like you deserve!"

They won, but Algarotti ended up staying with them for only 6 weeks. I was kind of joking when I wrote "Live with Voltaire! *double take* Live with Voltaire? *sigh*" as his reason for leaving. My sources give *no* reason why Algarotti left so quickly. What we know is that he continued to be on very complimentary terms with both his hosts after leaving, and they with him. My wanton and unsubstantiated speculation is based on two things: 1) Voltaire is Voltaire. 2) This is also how Algarotti later broke up with Fritz, as you may remember. "ILU! ILU from very far away!" "ILU too! Come back soon!" "When pigs fly, but ILU anyway!"

Algarotti seems to have been master of the amicable unofficial breakup, IOW. Even Lady Mary was left in some doubt as to his interest in her until she showed up in Italy several years later trying to move in with him. [ETA: My library shocked me by having the 3-volume set of the complete letters! I have placed a hold and will scan the Algarotti letters as soon as they arrive. Wheeee.]

Plus 3) I couldn't resist throwing some shade at Voltaire. :P

Edited 2019-11-08 05:16 (UTC)

So, while I am laughing my head off at Joseph's latest cracky plot twist, I'm going to have to defer to you two on this portion of the crackfic, 1) because I don't feel equal to contributing to a discussion involving music, and 2) because for the last several days, my concentration has been *shot* due to health problems. While I can mechanically pass on facts, creativity is proving beyond me. (*stern look at self* This had better clear up in time for the YT treat deadline!)

Atm, the only thing I have to say is a tangent inspired by the following:

in which case Fritz is sung by a castrato

This one would be deliciously ironic, given all the rumors about Fritz's apparent lack of interest in the female sex being due to castration and other forms of impotence.

cahn, here's how you no-homo like a pro(fessional historian):

Historian 1: Look, Old Fritz can't be gay. There's NO WAY. He was so manly! He invaded provinces and partitioned Poland! He won a three-front war! He spent years on campaign enduring all sorts of hardships. Could he have done that if he was gay? NO HOMO.

Historian 2: I'm with you so far, but what's with the lack of sex? He was king, he could have had *anyone*. Explain, plz.

Historian 1: Okay, so remember the ladies Orzelska and Ritter and Wreech and Formera and so on and so forth? What do they all have in common? He was young! Clearly, something happened in his twenties that made him impotent.

Historian 2: Like what?

Historian 1: Like his dad kept a close eye on him, so he couldn't have normal affairs like a young prince, so he had to resort to prostitutes. Naturally, he caught a venereal disease.

Historian 2: Oooh, so that operation on his penis he was supposed to have had in 1733?

Historian 1: Yeah, except the operation went wrong and he was castrated.

Historian 2: Right, right, gotcha. And then he *pretended* to be into "Socratic" love so people wouldn't guess anything was wrong. But really it was just homoerotic poetry in the classical Greek style, no action or anything.

Historian 3: No, no, you're both wrong! If he was impotent, how could he have been manly enough to invade and hold Silesia? Eunuchs are weak and effeminate. Clearly the botched operation caused a *cosmetic* disfigurement that made him *self-conscious* about his penis, hence the no sex. Obviously he was actually perfectly virile the whole time!

Historian 3: But I'm with you on the faking homoerotic interest via poetry.

Historian 4: Idk about any operation, but I promise you, dear readers, there was nothing "unnatural" about Fritz's sex drive, it was just "underdeveloped." It's MANLY to not be into women and only like waging war, k? If he wrote poetry at all, much less erotic poetry, you will not find any mention of it in my incredibly manly book.

Historian 5: No, no, you're all wrong! He was sekritly in love with EC but forced to pretend he wasn't, because he had trash-talked the marriage to defy his father before he'd met her, and Fritz was constitutionally incapable of backing down. He would totally cut off his nose to spite his face for 46 years.

Allow me to convince you with all the evidence. Remember how they lived together while his father was alive, and he claimed to be having sex with her? He was perfectly happy at Rheinsberg. Lonely and sad afterward. QED. HUGE TRAGEDY for our totally heterosexual hero. Everybody shed a tear for the tragic love of Friedrich II and Elisabeth Christine.

Historian 6: Okay, but you guys realize there is no evidence that there was any operation at all? And his naked body was examined by many people after his death, and *nobody* commented on any supposed disfigurement? The doctor who treated Fritz during his life and claimed to have seen this "disfigurement" is a totally unreliable source, who would claim anything to salvage his hero's reputation. YES HOMO. EXTREMELY HOMO. MAXIMUM HOMO. [ETA: okay, not *Philippe d'Orleans* maximum, but he may have been throwing some transgender in there too, hard to say. Anyway. Lots of homo. :P]

Margaret Goldsmith (writing in 1929): Nice job catching up, 2015 guy. I said all this a hundred years ago. Fritz/Katte 4ever. <333

(NB: I have placed all these accounts in dialogue form in the mouths of historians for the sake of entertainment. The actual details of the historiography, what was said by Fritz's doctor and what was said later and by who, are more complicated and irrelevant. Suffice it to say that these stories have all been bruited about by people EXTREMELY concerned to save Heroic Old Fritz's reputation from the awful and unsubstantiated gay rumors.)

Also, I entitled this comment "Crackfic" in reference to our Fritz/Joseph crackfic, but honestly, the whole venereal disease/operation/castration/cosmetic disfigurement stories should count as crackfic too. :P

And yet those of us who think he might actually have been interested in men are the "gossipy sensationalists," omg, smh.

Edited 2019-11-08 07:02 (UTC)

Mostly for my own reference, that chronology of Fritz's emotional isolation that I keep hinting at.

1740 death of Suhm
1742 estrangement from Algarotti
1744 estrangement from Wilhelmine
1745 death of Keyserlingk
1745 death of Jordan
1746 death of Duhan
1746 reconciliation with Wilhelmine
1747 Algarotti returns
1751 death of Rothenburg (in Fritz's arms)
1753 partial estrangement from Algarotti
1753 estrangement from Voltaire
1757 estrangement from Fredersdorf
1757 death of Sophia Dorothea
1758 death of Fredersdorf
1758 death of brother Wilhelm*
1758 death of Wilhelmine
late 50s/early 60s gradual partial long-distance reconciliation with Voltaire begins
1764 death of Algarotti
1767 death of Heinrich (the beloved nephew, not the unbeloved brother)
1768 estrangement from D'Argens
1768 death of Eichel
1773 death of Quantz
1774 death of Fouqué
1775 death of Quintus Icilius
1778 death of Voltaire
1778 death of Earl of Marischal
1782 estrangement from Catt
1786 death of Fritz

* As

selenak notes, not that they were close, but it contributed to his deteriorating relations with his remaining siblings.

So when we talk about Fritz's emotional isolation, there are two aspects:

1) To what extent was he isolated?
2) To what extent was he isolated by choice?

And while the answer to both is "more than the average person," both aspects have been overestimated by contemporaries and posterity alike. A huge reason is that the more famous he was, the older he was, and the older he was, the more isolated he was. Even the isolation of his last years has been overstated, but it's definitely true.

And if you break down the ways that he ended up both increasingly isolated with time, and with a reputation for isolation, it comes down to these factors:

1) He disliked the majority of people and did not casually welcome anyone and everyone into his circle.
2) He kept at arm's length people that he was expected by society to at least make the effort to interact with: his wife, his brothers, etc.
3) He outlived his inner circle (especially the Rheinsberg circle).
4) He was reluctant to add new people to the inner circle later in life.
5) He cut people off when they offended him.
6) He inadvertently drove people away through being impossible to live with.

1 and 2) don't necessarily reflect either misanthropy a preference for being alone. He was more open about his likes and dislikes, but those two plus the length of the chronology above make it pretty clear that he was committed to quality over quantity. A lot of people who are surrounded by family and casual friends out of fear of loneliness and/or need for a social safety net are actually *emotionally* isolated. The whole "I make nice with my family, even though they're really awful for my mental health, because I have financial problems/health problems/etc." is sadly common.

3 and 4) are also pretty common. Even today, the whole "I used to make friends easily in my 20s, but now I'm in my 40s and it's hard" phenomenon is seen all over social media, along with advice column articles on ways to get around that. People who outlive their social circle often end up alone. The way most people have historically gotten around the isolation of old age is through large extended families. Some people are lucky enough for that to work out well in their old age, but a large number of people are either stuck in a nursing home because they don't have family to take care of them, or stuck in an unhappy family situation because they can't afford an alternative. (This also goes for younger disabled people, younger people with a sucky job market, etc.) Fritz had staff and doctors, and so he didn't need to depend on family.

5 and 6) are the big two "oh, Fritz" ones.. And what they tell you are not that Fritz didn't like people, or that he wanted to be alone, but that he lacked the skills of making a long-term relationship work. The reason the chronology of people he loved is so long was that he was pretty willing to let people into the inner circle. (And I could have made that list even longer, but I had to draw a line around the inner circle somewhere.)

The way it usually worked was that he made snap judgments whether to like someone. If you were in, you were in (for as long as it lasted). If you were out, you were out, and changing his first impression of you for the better was hard. And once you were in, you got a mixture of "Fritz lavishing affection on you and begging you to stick around (or come back)" with "Fritz being Fritz," which was not easy to live with but was not necessarily intentionally aimed at driving you away.

As a counterexample to his total isolation after the Seven Years' War and an example of him actually knowing how to do the whole friendship thing, there was the Earl of Marischal. Fritz granted him some land on the Sanssouci grounds, paid for him to build a house there, and gave him a permanent place at the dinner table at Sanssouci. When the old Earl found it harder and harder to get up that steeply terraced hill, Fritz would make the trip down the hill and eat with him somewhere else. They were still good friends when Marischal died in 1778, yet another death that was hard on Fritz. Let's keep in mind also that if he hadn't driven anyone away or cut anyone off, he still outlived by many years all but one of the people he was estranged from. So from that list, it would have been basically him and Catt at the end.

In conclusion, on the one hand, obviously he was more isolated in 1786 than in 1736 (the "happiest years" being 1736-1740, at Rheinsberg). But too many people let that seduce them into a picture of either old or young Fritz being uniformly crabby and reluctant to let people get close. When in reality, he also had this emotionally open, even clingy, side that people tend to overlook in him after the age of about 18 or at best 28.

The saddest part about his increasing isolation is that he *cared*. His list is really long and mine is really short because my social interaction needs are really low. When I cut people off, I don't care, and when I outlive them, I don't care except in an abstract "death is bad" kind of way. Fritz latched onto people, hated being alone, grieved people intensely, and got really upset when he cut people off or they left him. He really needed better relationship skills than he had.

therapy for everyone

Edited (Formatting typo) 2019-11-09 06:18 (UTC)

Okay, so I know you two have read this, but I finally got to the part where Wilhelmine explains *why* she and Fritz named their lute and flute Principe and Principessa respectively.

"My brother had given this name to his flute: observing that he should never be truly in love with any princess but this...it was by way of reply that I called my lute my prince, saying that it was his rival."

Um, between this and Argenore, Wilhelmine, I'm starting to worry about you.

Fritz: Pretty sure I'm either gay or asexual.
Wilhelmine: Might actually be in love with my brother.

Also, granted the memoirs were written at least a decade later, but if Wilhelmine's remembering the aetiology of the name correctly, this is the earliest instance I've seen of Fritz indicating a lack of interest in women, by several years. That is very interesting (to us gossipy sensationalists). I'm even more inclined to take later encounters as het-posing or at best questioning.

So here I was, going through the “Fritz and music” book again to extract dates for Mildred in the earlier reply, when I come across another mention of Maria Antonia of Bavaria (Antonia for short) , married Princess Elector of Saxony, this lady: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duchess_Maria_Antonia_of_Bavaria

“Fritz and Music” book says that after Wilhelmine’s death, she became his go-to correspondant for all matters musical. Hang on, thought I, I know of her, but as Maria Theresia’s most frequent correspondant among German royalty and sort of spy! Back I go to my MT biography, and yep, it’s the same lady. Daughter of MT’s rival on the throne, the short termed Wittelsbach Emperor, sister to that same Max whom MT blackmailed into voting for FS as Emperor and abandon the Wittelsbach claim on the throne if he wanted his dad’s duchy back. During the 7-Years-War (when, you know, Fritz had invaded Saxony) she went into exile to Prague but returned when the dust had settled. Her musical credentials were indeed impeccable, see wiki entry, and she not only composed operas but published them under the nome de plume Ermelinda Talea Pastorella Arcadia, ETPA for short. Because Wilhelmine isn’t the only one who can compose fictionalized RPF operas, one of ETPA’s operas, Talestris, pitches Talestris, Queen of the Amazons, versus Orontes, King of the Scythians. (That opera has a happy ending and war is averted by Amazon/Scythian marriage.)

What I’d like to know: how come Fritz, renowned misogynist with a very very few exceptions, made another one of these for MT’s pen pal?

One Count von Pogwitz, and it's basically a portrait of MT/dossier on her for Fritz. That it is an "enemy" assassment makes it especially valuable, of course, as opposed to some Austrian courtier wanting to carry favor, but bear the intended recipient in mind:

"Her numerous births have made her quite heavy. Nonetheless, she carries herself vivaciously, and has a majestic bearing. Her looks are impressive, though she spoils them by the way she dresses.(...) She has a round face, the hairs are blond without being reddish. Her eyes are large and sparkling, yet due to their bright blue colouring also benevolent. A small nose, neither an eagle's beak nor a pointed stub. The mouth is quite large, but still beautiful. Her teeth are white. A pleasant smile. Her neck and breasts are well formed. (...) Her expression is open and amused. Her look smiling and gracious. One cannot deny that she is a beautiful person."

(At this point, I imagine Fritz drumming his fingers and grumbling "Dude, did I ask ou to write a "MT, Hot or Not?" assessment? Do I need to replace you? What is she like?"

"The Queen (of Hungary) is a good actress. When she ascended the throne, she discovered the secret of appearing lovable and admirable by putting her sex, her beauty and her pregnancies in the foreground. She observed herself and only showed her good sides, friendly, pious, liberal, compassionate, courageous generous; thus, she won the hearts of her subjects. (...) Everyone competed to sacrifice themselves for the best of princesses. But it is hard to maintain an assumed character. The queen could not force herself to do this for long."

So, after the first Silesian War, says the good Ambassador, she revealed her true nature:

Her efforts to disguise her ambition beneath the veil of the dangers she was under relented. One slowly realised that far from being touched by the misery of her people, she was only driven by the ambition to enlarge her territory and thus continued the war without blushing. All the praise the world had heaped on her and a lot of her own self regard gave her a high opinion of her own abilities and made her authoritarian. Now, she listens to little advice, shows as much pride as her ancestors did and shows herself vengeful and unforgiving.

(Three guesses towards whom. However, the ambassador admits that she's not entirely undeserving of praise even now, for:)

"She has a quick and thorough mind and knows to devote herself to the matters of state with an eagerness that helps her solve difficulties. She combines a good memory with an assured judgment. She also knows very well to pretend and to keep her thoughts to herself so I find it difficult to read what is in her heart from her face. Nearly always, she appears to be friendly, warmhearted and encouraging towards those who are shy. Her manners are uncomplicated and thoughtful. She speaks clearly, acts graciously, and sometimes enjoys hearing herself talk. It is still relatively easy to address her, though not as much as at the beginning of her rule. She listens to the suggestions one makes with patience and kindness, and sometimes accepts the petitions for help directly."

But what does her army think of serving a woman who can't command them in the field?

"She is much beloved by the troops whose respect she earned by the courage she showed during the cruel defeats at the start of her rule. It is said that for a time, she was even seriously determined to command her armies herself, before being dissuaded. Generall speaking, she appears to stay away from the weaknesses of her sex and seeks to cultivate the virtues least fitting for it. (...) She seems to dislike being born a woman, for she does not pay enough attention to preserving her beauty,exposing herself without caution to the dangers of the weather, walking outside for hours in searing heat or bitter coldness, which she can endure even better than the heat. She lacks care for her finery, and except for holidays dresses in a simple fashion, with the court following her example."

Now if you've seen any portrait of MT, at whatever age, you might be tempted to exclaim "simple?". But leaving aside all portraits use carefully chosen costumes; what the ambassador here in particular is referring to is that MT, which we know from her letters as well, had no time for those extremely wide hoop skirts which for example her daughter MA favoured; in her every day life, she preferred as small a hoop as she could get away with in the fashion of the day, which made movement easier (especially once she'd gained weight).

Edited 2019-11-08 16:17 (UTC)

I've dipped into the diaries of the Duc de Croy, contemporary of Louis XV and sharp observer in his old age of Louis XVI, translated by that very Mr. Pleschinski whom you know through the Fritz/Voltaire Correspondance saga. The Duke is famous as THE source for goings on in Versailles, but he also was involved in the war of Austrian Succession and voted for MT's rival as Emperor due to being not just a French noble but a HRE one as well. (His family hailed from the always switching sides border territory.)

Haven't checked out the war stuff yet, but his description of Joseph's visit to Paris is great and also of interest in what it says about how such semi-official visits were handled. (And why it would have been a hell of a bother if Joseph had come officially. Versailles protocol was strict, and the problem alone of the Emperor outranking the King, and in which order which noble had to be received, when it came to seating arrangements would have been a headache. Whereas since officially Joseph was "Graf Falkenstein", he could basically come and go as he wanted and nobles could say hello in whichever order, etc.) (If Fritz had ever made a state visit to Paris, it would have been almost as big a problem - he didn't outrank Louis, but equal rank was a headache, too.) (This was why Wilhelmine travelled as the Gräfin Zollern when being in France, too.)

Now, our diarist is an old fashioned gentlemen who, for example, firmly disapproves of mistresses but once he actually met Pompadour and Dubarry, he found he liked them. He even kept in contact with Dubarry post regime change, and thus learns Joseph has been visiting her as well. (But sadly not what was said. Anyway, I find this intriguing, because there really is no political reason to visit the mistress of a dead king who has zilch current influence and also, since she started out from the gutter, no powerful family to placate.) Having actively fought against Joseph's Mom, he's also sometimes startled at himself for getting along with people who "shed French blood" (that's one way of putting it, Duke, given who started this war) at all, but is positively impressed by ViennaJoe. (Who might be travelling under an alias, but not really in secret. I.e. most people he met knew who he was. They just didn't have to go through elaborate ceremonies.)

The Duke notes that en route through France, Joseph got a lot of popular love in Lorraine, FS's old dukedom (that was given to France as a bribe to accept the Pragmatic Sanction which they kept and promptly ignored anyway), but both impresses and somewhat irritates people by visiting hospitals and cadet schools because "he kept commenting perhaps a bit too accurately", down to arguing anatomy with, for example, the chief surgeon in Metz. (Yep, he's modeled himself on Fritz, alright.)
The first sight the Duke himself catches of Joseph is "a shaby German chaise with post horses driving quickly", with only wet two servants(it's raining) and another one on horseback. ("That's how they always travel in Germany, no matter in which weather or during which time of the year, in open and very ugly carriages.") The Duke is a bit shocked that the HRE is really taking this travelling anonymously thing this far. I mean. One carriage! Three servants only! Horror!

Joseph is en route the Petit Luxembourg where he'll stay during his time in Paris (whereas sister Mimi wasn't allowed to go there, either, when she came later), and presents himself in Versailles on Saturday, April 19th, at a quarter past ten in the morning. The Duke notes Joseph first spends a while locked away alone with MA, then with MA and Louis, the gets presented to the rest of the royal family (the aunts, Louis' brothers and sister): "He appeared as a respectful foreigner who wants to please his hosts. He even wanted to meet the little Duc d'Angouleme." (That would be Louis' kid nephew.) Now it's (public) lunchtime and of course tout Versailles is ogling the Royal family & guest having lunch. ("We noted that he" - Joseph - "drank only water. He wasvery tanned from his travel.")
Next day, Joseph "in a terrible hired carriage" visits the local hospitals (again) ("out of preference or calculation, he seems to be mainly interested in hospitals, universities and all that serves humanity. The evening, he spent at the opera. His French is flawless, he speaks smoothly and wittily, if at times with a German grammatical construction."

The Duke approves less of the fact that Joseph rises at an ungodly early time though he notes that gives Joseph space for more tourist stuff. At half past one, Joseph joins his sister at the Trianon where they lunch a deux without any courtiers (what is going on, wonders the Duke). Or Louis, who has gone hunting. Then they go walking. This seems to be an Austrian habit, notes our narrator:
"Like her brother the Queen often enjoys taking the air, for the empress Maria Theresia has raised them without the former stiffness of the House of Habsburg." This evening, when Joseph enters one of the salons at Versailles without announcement, the Duke finally has the chance to pounce and talk to the visitor himself.

"The Emperor who appeared to be relieved being able to talk to someone and paid me compliments for more than fifteen minutes, and devoted himself exclusively to me with such pleasant and flattering words that it went swimmingly between us. (...) In order to say something, I directed the conversation towards the menagerie which he had visited this morning. He praised it a lot and said "In Vienna, we have a male elephant. Yours is female; I've got a mind to arrange a marriage!" Thus we jested for a while and I was tempted to say that I could imagine an even more important marriage project for him! "

(We're working on it, Duke, we're working on it.) Since it's getting late, Joseph doesn't return to Paris but stays overnight in Versailles, which means sleeping on the floor, since there's little room elsewhere. This shocks the Duke again.
"One notices he's in many ways modelling himself on Charles XII of Sweden and the King of Prussia. But it is strange that someone whom the King has officially adressed as the Queen's brother sleeps at an inn at Versailles on the floor!"
Still, he's won over by our boy. "All appears to be to his credit, and in a natural fashion, for he does not have the time nor the wish to consult a local advisor on manners. The ladies he met, that is, those with offices at Versailles, quite fancy him. But through all the gracious and friendly tone he used, he still remained the Emperor. He honors the education his noble mother has given him. He is sixandthirty years old, and while he lives modestly, one notices he has learned to refine his taste through paying attention. As for myself, I looked at the elephant with great pleasure, which despite being an elephant cow is with nearly seven foot a tall example of its kind. It is at liberty to stroll through the Park each morning. Our rhino, which is unique in Europe, appears to have grown somewhat and amazed me. The camels, dromedars, lions and tigers made for an excellent menagerie, and I noted down the animals still lacking.

When I had changed my clothing, I went to the King's dinner, where I was surprised to hear "the Emperor has done this, the Emperor has done that" etc. Well, a certain difference between the two monarchs is undeniable."

Joseph's ongoing tourist program includes Notre Dame, the palace of justice to attend a trial, and more hospitals. The Duke doesn't have the chance to observe him closely again until he spots Joseph with MA in a salon where MA is gambling. "I observed him mainly because I heard him say that princes should not gamble at high stakes, for it was the money of their subjects they were gambling with - a hint to the Queen. I believe this irritated the Queen a lot. Since both of them are in awe of the Empress, their almighty and ruling mother, the Queen was surely afraid of what he would report in Vienna."

The Duke doesn't miss the symbolism of Joseph being here at al, for:

"If one considers that this famous man, despite the often simple people around him, is the heir of the House of Habsburg and thus as our natural enemy has caused much French blood to be shed, one is allowed to be quite amazed."

Joseph isn't a spoilsport for his sister's entertainment all the time, though, and visits the opera with her repeatedly, which allows the Duke to pounce again.
"He esteems our good French comedies. HIs departure seems to be imminent. He said that he prefers Italian music to our operas, but that Italian comedies were too silly for him, whereas he prefers our comedies in which one could admire the acting and could understand and explore every single character. He never voiced a political opinion and thus appeared inscrutable. When a lady asked him about his opinion on the American rebels, he replied: "Given my profession, Madame, I have to be a Royalist and am not allowed to praise any rebels." Thus he disguised his opinions."

As we get to the end of may, it's noticed that Joseph spends entire days (like May 29th) alone with the Queen and King, sans courtiers and with a lot of strolls through the park. The Duke is too dignified to speculate what they're talking about, he's just sure it's not politics. When Joseph takes off again (in the godawful morning of May 30th, WHY DO THESE GERMANS GET UP SO EARLY ALL THE TIME?), the Duke sums his Joseph impressions up:

"Given his ambition, his fondness of things military and his eagerness to express to succeed in everything, he may have threatening intentinos. And yet he dedicated himself to so many things it one hopes the amiability he's shown and the future years that will pass until the death of his mother will make him lord and master of all will help him grow calmer. Of our kingdom, he has surely won a good impression, and he's bound to love Paris and the French who admired him. All in all this partly dreaded visit has been success. Moreover, he has served as an example to our court and given it an impression of true greatness."

Since I'm feeling guilty since I brought up sad things again, something more light hearted, excerpts from the Fritz/Wilhelmine correspondance when she's in Italy. Where even when Fritz is sore-graping, he's doing so in an endearing way. Also, we find out what happened to Florichon (Wilhelmine's dog from the dog letters.) Judge for yourselves:

W: My dearest brother, the days appear years to me since I have lived for five weeks without news from you. Despite all the entertaining experiences I have had here, I wish I was in Rome right now, where your letters are adressed to. The interests of my heart will always outweigh everything for me me, and there, my dear brother rules like an absolute despot, so that one line from him weighs more than all the largesse I am seeing every day. We will leave Florence in two days.

I am like a person born blind who is learning to see bit by bit, and learns new concepts with this. All I have seen from Italy so far surpasses everything I've been told about it. I often feel myself enchanted and believe I must be living in an illusion.

F: My dearest sister, I had the pleasure of receiving your letter from Florence. It contains, dearest sister, any beautiful churches, monuments and antiques, but I must confess to be thoroughly saddened not to find the one thing I truly searched for: the restoratio of your health. In moderation, I believe movement could help you. But I am afraid that the burdens of a long journey will exhaust you too much. You will find Italy as an old coquette who fancies herself as beautiful as in her youth and who may bear some traces that allow a conclusion of how she must have been.

*lengthy rant about how and why the Italy of today and nearly all Italians of today must truly suck and can't possibly be enjoyed, but then*

I ask for a thousand pardons about my idle chatter. Maybe I am like the fox who found the grapes sour which he could not consume, or like the galley slave who has gotten into the habit of rowing his galley and looks with scorn at those enjoying their freedom. I beg you, do not forget the teutonic inhabitants on the shores of the Eastern sea. And may the beautiful climate of Italy not cause you aversion to the freeze of the climate at home.

ZOMG, mes amies, could he have been afraid she'd stay in Italy and he wouldn't see her again?

W: My dearest brother, I must admit to being very sad today. I have just lost a dear friend who always cheered me up and was more fond of me than any humans. My poor Folichon has died in Bayreuth of old age. I had left him there, for I was afraid he would suffer an accident on this journey, for which he was too old in any case. You, my dearest brother, know how much pain such a loss can cause while most of the world makes fun of it. But it seems to me that once one knows what human beings are like, one should try to distance oneself from them, for how many more virtues can we find at those we call animals than with the beings gifted with reason! I see those with reason talk nonsense on a daily basis, and favour evil. There could not have been a more sincere and faithful friend - People came, dear brother, and have stopped me moralizing.

Next, she's off to Naples

W: I'm here since the 27th. The street that leads here seems to be the way to hell. I could never stand the Appii, but right now, I hate them with a vengeance, having travelled on the terrible road they've constructed. I was sick and couldn't walk for days.

(The famous Appian Way was indeed in a terrible state at that point, but come on, Wilhelmine, it was 1700 years old!)

(...) The King here spends his days hunting and fishing while the Queen runs all state business. Yesterday I was in Pozzuoli, in Baja and Cumuae. Rarely have I felt such vivid pleasure. I have visited all the living spaces of the Ancients. There can be nothing more admirable than the Piscina of Lucullus which is still preserved.

(Description ensues. Wilhelmine actually means the "piscina mirabilis", the gigantic underground water cisterns through which the Romans supplied the city with water - and which still supplied Naples with water when she was there. They were active until a mid 19th century earthquake. Today, you can still sightsee there, and they're truly amazing.)

La Condamine and i crawled on all fours inside and climbed back on ladders. In short, we are now adventures immortal by our research and have called this our descent into the underworld. (...) Herculaneum, on the other hand, does not live up to its descriptions. It is like a quarry, with lava walls. One doesn't see anything. While I was there, though, two beautiful mosaic floors were discovered. (...) If we had tools, we'd have taken them with us. I'd have acted like St. Francis in order to send them to you.

<(Wilhelmine is confusing St. Francis with St Crispin who stole leather in order to make shoes for the poor.)

F: My dearest sister, (...) I must admit that I would consider it glorious to have travelled on the Via Appia and that there is nothing I wouldn't give, including a broken rib, in order to be in this earthly paradise. Well, it is not given to everyone to travel to Corinth.

(Editor's footnote: "Travel to Corinth: French saying for making an expensive or morally questionable journey.)

You, my dearest sister, must feel the joy of seeing Italy more than anyone else; you, who knows the history so well and who can treasure antiques. For those Spaniards and Saxons transported to Naples the ancient names are just fancy words. (...) Such a poor species of people lives in this beautiful land now; Julius Caesar, if he came back, would be amazed to find such Iroquois as the owners of his country.

And so forth. Then he reports their mother will visit him in Potsdam, because guess what? There's an English marriage to be arranged! (Between Charlotte's oldest daughter and the current Prince of Wales, though actually Charlotte was supposed to bring ALL her daughters to Hannover for inspection)

It was demanded that she should bring her daughters to Hannover where she'll have the honour of getting face to face with his Britannic Majesty, an honour I do not envy for the world.

Wilhelmine is back in Rome

W: I must, my dear brother, report a miraculous, extraordinary, strange adventure which you won't have expected. You will have a saint in your family, and that saint is myself. I am now a martyr of our holy religion. This pillar of the true faith has not bent her knees to the antichrist. The Roman ladies are terrified and will not see or receive Satan's helper, to wit, me. Discreetly, the Pope does what he can in order to calm everyone down. Like the Cardinal Valenti, who thus is a kind of romantic go between, he tries to be agreeable to me as much as he can, for not a day passes when he doesn't tell me compliments from the Pope. And thus you have my confession. If I could have seen his Holiness, I may have made him my Cicisbeo, for I admit to you I am a bit attracted to the fantastic. But alas, our love was not to be. Now I'm not seeing anyone, which suits me well, since all these visits were killing me. (...) I am up and about all day in the town, though, in order to discover the traces of ancient Rome. One has to get up on montains or into ruined buildings or sometimes descend into the earth, but it is possible. (...) Yesterday I have read a delightful Italian sonnet about you, my dearest brother. In it, you get compared to Julius Caesar. At the end, it says that Caesar wrote his life anew, and that only you were worthy of writing yours. Now you have caused me to make so many bowings and pleasantries that I'll get my hips out of joint, for people talk so much about you to me, knowing this is an assured way to prologne a conversation with me, for no one is dearer to me than my dear brother, whose devoted and obedient sister I shall aways be - Wilhelmine.

Edited 2019-11-10 15:53 (UTC)

So here I was, idly checking whether sister Ulrike survived Fritz or vice versa (he survived her), when reading the English wiki entry on her, which is far more extensive than the German one, sent me into a rabbit hole because near the end of her life, events happened that proved there’s no crazy like Hohenzollern crazy, unless it’s Hohenzollern-Vasa crazy. For verily, this happened, starring the following players:

Gustav III: Ulrike’s oldest son. Future Verdi tenor. Married, but lacking an heir.
Fredrik Munck: Finnish sex machine with ambitions. Currently getting it on with, among others, the chambermaid of...
SophIa Magdalena: Gustav’s unhappy queen. Definitely not liked by...
Ulrike: Gustav’s mother, not very happy about being Queen Dowager and sidelined.
Charles: Ulrike’s second son. Suffers from chronic second son ombition.
In minor roles: Ulrike’s even younger kids.

If you think you’ve guessed where this is going, think again. Because Gustav is also bff with one Axel von Fersen, handsome Swedish count, in love with Marie Antoinette (whether or not they ever had sex is still disputed, but in future years, he’ll certainly go above and beyond trying to save her). I’m guessing Fersen told him that the French Royal couple also had problems getting it on and getting an heir for years, and solved this by getting third party counselling. Gustav must have misunderstood something, because what he decides to do is this:

G: So, Munck. I hear you’re really, really good at sex. Clearly the go to person to tell me and the Queen how to get an heir.
M: Sure, why not.
G: In a practical, hands- on fashion.
M: Say what?
G: I‘m talking manual instructions, my man. To both of us at the same time. You, me, her in the Royal Bedchamber.
M: I‘m so putting it in writing that this was your idea and leaving the document to the Swedish National Archive where it is to this day.

*nine months later, an heir is had*

Charles: Hi, Mom. I‘m just paying a visit with even younger bro Fredrick Adolf, ever so casually mentioning that other than you, every woman in Sweden is a slut and has lovers.

U: You do remind me of my brother Fritz at times. Surely not every woman? How about your sister-in-law?

C: Total slut, getting it on with the Finnish sex nmachine.

U: Say what? You mean that kid does not have Hohenzollern blood?

C: That kid which has been taking my place as Gustav‘s heir? Kinda doubt that. Rumor has it Gustav is getting it on with him, too.

U: Charles, stop kidding around. This is serious. If that kid is a bastard, it‘s your royal duty to make that known. Get the Finnish guy to confess!

C: Thanks, Mom, I knew you‘d see it like that. Munck, spill the dirty details and restore my place in the succession.

M: Gustav, remember how this was all your idea? Your brother is getting on my case, big time. I need royal protection!

G: Charles, what the hell do you think you‘re doing?

M: It was all Mom‘s idea. I‘m totally innocent.

G: WTF, Mom?

U: I raised you better. In my family, boys who can‘t get it on with their wives make their brothers and their brother‘s kids their heirs. Your uncle Fritz would NEVER have gone for the bastard option.

G: That kid is mine. You want to go to Pomerania into exile?

U: Is not. Make Charles your heir! To me, my other children! Remember, the slut‘s kid is barring you all from succession!

Ulrike‘s younger children: *side with her*

G: Okay, now it‘s war. Mom, if you don‘t sign a public statement that you withdraw your accusation against my wife and son, I‘m sending you home to Prussia. Without a retirement fund. You really want to find out whether Uncle Fritz will take you back? As for you, younger bros and sisters, I‘m still holding the purse string. No more income for you unless you co-sign Mom‘s statement. For good measure, I‘ll have six Swedish MPs co-sign it as well.

U: I curse you to suffer the fate of a Verdi tenor and die not too long after signing the statement.

M: That was surely the most troublesome threesome I ever had.

G: Time for a Masque Ball, anyone?

Hiiii! I missed you guys! I hope this means I'm back, but each day is a surprising new adventure in Medical Land, so who knows what tomorrow will bring. But I'm going to try to read through the backlog of comments before bed and hopefully reply to a few. I also have a backlog of topics I want to discuss, haha, because of course I do.

But before I start rereading comments, I'm going to share a couple things with you that I put together in the last day or two. One I'll do in the Algarotti thread, and the other here.

So remember when

selenak shared with us a map of Wilhelmine's itinerary on her trip to France and Italy? And I said I wanted one for Fritz, but like every month of his life?

Well, it occurred to me that you could put together a pretty good approximation from his correspondence. It's obviously going to be very light on the early years, especially pre-1730. You'd have to do that manually. But after 1740, we have reams and reams of correspondence for him, and it all comes with locations.

So I, uh, wrote some code. Like I do.

Then it turned out that code is easy, data wrangling is hard. (This is the mantra of data scientists everywhere.) In our case, data wrangling = converting the 18th century German names of cities into 21st century German, Polish, and Czech names with standardized spellings, and getting the latitude and longitude manually for the really small and obscure ones. Ahahahaaaa.

So I went with his personal correspondence for my first stab at this project. It gives you much less granularity than the political correspondence, but a much smaller and therefore more manageable data set, and it also gives you some of the 1730-1740 period.

I ended up manually googling 150 names that I couldn't automatically match to any modern place names. Some of them were pretty damn hard to track down. In a few cases, I had to go read the letter in question to figure out where the fuck he was, or his memoirs. Fortunately, in the one case where I absolutely could not find a modern equivalent even after reading the letter and would have been stumped, he conveniently described his location in the letter as "near this city, on this river, and just on the opposite side of this other river from this other city," which meant I could get fairly precise coordinates even without being able to match up names. Thanks, Fritz! His memoirs were actually pretty useful too in giving geographical descriptions. But you can see why I used the personal correspondence.

That got me a rough map of his travels 1730-1786. Or at least a data set that allows me to generate rough maps. Attempting to generate one single map crashed my laptop.

Then I picked out one small period and went through it by hand and attempted to clean up the data as best I could. (Some guesses have been made, but the final result doesn't have him jumping to the other side of Germany and back overnight, which is how I'm judging "good enough".) Now it looks like an actual map.

But he moved around and backtracked so much, that it would be unreadable as a static map with overlapping names and dates. So I made it into a gif.

And without further ado, behold the First Silesian War! (You'll need to click on the gif and zoom in to make out the text. Depending on your connection, the transitions may be a little jerky if you view it in the cloud, but when I downloaded it to my computer, it was much better quality. It's in the same folder as the screenshots, so you should be able to view it, but let me know if not.)

If we wanted to tackle this project properly, this would be my todo list:
1) Clean up the entire data set, 1730-1786.
2) Make the map all pretty with colors and better titles and stuff.
3) Use the political correspondence, omg.
4) Maybe see if it would be possible to make static maps covering short time frames that aren't unreadably cluttered?

What I should do is the initial number crunching on the political correspondence just to see exactly how much work it would be to make that data set usable. Would it be a couple hundred place names that needed to be manually wrangled (doable), or a couple thousand (lol no)?

Oh, btw, you know the 46 volumes of political correspondence? They stop in March 1782! I don't know what happened to the last 4.5 years. Maybe everyone who was compiling his correspondence died of old age and forgot to name literary executors, haha.

But anyway, enjoy watching Fritz invade Silesia and Bohemia in the meantime! ("Pragmatic Sanction? What Pragmatic Sanction? Anti-Machiavel? What Anti-Machiavel? *shifty eyes* Posterity is going to make MAPS commemorating this!")

Also: "War is God's way of teaching Americans geography." I certainly learned a lot about Germany, Poland, and the Czech Republic from this exercise. To the point where I'm starting to have intuitions about what's been misgeocoded just from proximity to surprisingly obscure villages and rivers. :P

Before I got so rudely interrupted by medical problems, I was continuing that biography of General Seydlitz, and I made a note to pass this anecdote on. Check out this hilarious bit of mutual passive-aggressiveness on the part of two of Fritz's officers.

"[Seydlitz] was particular in procuring good and various wines, and was annoyed if a guest sought to conceal a preference for any particular kind of wine, out of modesty. And this was a repugnance which General von Natzmer* loved to excite; for when he came to Trebnitz to inspect the squadron, and sat at the major's table, he invariably asked for the ordinary French wine, to show that he did not live well himself, and that he despised luxury. The haughty host, however, to confront the unwelcome lesson with the offence which the general affected to reprehend, caused the finest and most costly wines to be served to himself and his other guests."

Way to go, guys! Such mature, very officer, wow. :P

Meanwhile, as you may recall, Fritz served only the cheapest wine when dining with his men. If you wanted something better, you brought it yourself. All of which he thought was hilarious. "Because if there's one thing I learned from Dad, it's--okay, verbally abusing people. But if there's two things I learned from Dad, it's verbally abusing people and saving money. :DD"

* Different Natzmer from the one who converted FW to Pietism and gave Katte three hours to escape before reluctantly being forced to arrest him.

I have recently discovered that the barn Fritz and his father were sleeping in when he tried to escape is still there, is now a Fritz museum, and has a plaque on the outside reading "Hier blieb auf seiner Flucht am 4/5. Aug. 1730 Friedrich d. Große dem Vaterland erhalten."

Is it just my German being too rudimentary here, or do they sound as happy about the child abuse continuing so Prussia could have a warmongering general as I think they do? (I dug up some pictures of the inside of the museum, and they seem extremely battle-recreation-focused, lending credence to my suspicion.)

The biography "August Wilhelm, Prinz von Preußen" from 2006 is by Eva Ziebura, who also more recently wrote a Heinrich biography my library doesn't have. But it does have "Die preußischen Brüder: Prinz Heinrich und Friedrich der Große" by Christian Graf von Krockow from 1996, which is an elegant double potrait/biography esay book not always told linearly and also pondering on Prussia per se. (The author, as he admits in the foreword, hailing from Prussian nobility himself and hence finding his own upbringing etc. influencing him on his take on the brothers.)

The AW biography: confirms Wilhelm or Guillaume was the name he actually used, with his younger brothers calling him Guille, does its source notes and tells its tragic story well, with the author unabashedly biased for her subject but trying to check it as in the question how far or little Fritz' behavior towards AW - when he basically wooed this younger brother with letters, even once wrote him a poem of praise - during the ten years between 1730 and 1740 was utterly calculating or not. It is, she admits, almost impossible not to read it with hindsight, but it's entirely possible Fritz was just as much motivated by affective needs - missing Wilhelmine and wanting to have an ally among the remaining in Berln siblings again - and survival technique (an ally who can report on their father's moods and within limits affect them); Zuibura does devote a powerful chapter on just how much Fritz was abused to demonstrate where he came from. Maybe he also was sincere in offering his older brother guidance re: education, not least because AW did need it; FW, who'd been delighted this second son prefered the toy soldiers to the books, had allowed his teacher to give him a great leash when it came to history, geography, writing etc, with the result that AW was on a level with the younger Heinrich (who was more like Fritz and Wilhelmine as a passionate learner). The poem of praise is also a gentle instruction on why books are cool and teen AW should read more of them on his own.

Young AW responded eagerly (and on that occasion btw tried to write a poem of his own to his older brother back). Unfortunately, all of this meant he really had no idea and post 1740 Fritz caught him entirely unawares. (BTW, the turnaround didn't happen immediately after ascension; for example, Fritz took AW with him and Algarotti when making that trip across the French border via Bayreuth, which is why we know - from AW's letters - one detail Fritz left out in his description to Voltaire about said trip, i.e. after his incognito was blown by a Prussian deserter, the lot of them ignominously spent the rest of the night under arrest (passport forgery!) until the local commandant cleared things up and send them back. (Young AW still thought this was a jolly adventure, though, and that his older brother was the coolest at this point.)

As Ziebura details, the reason why FW prefered this kid was a chicken/egg thing going beyond "that one thinks soldiers are cool" - because young Wilhelm was a loved child, he wasn't afraid of his father and very affectionate towards him, because he never had to hide what he thought, he was honest (whereas FW was convinced Fritz and Wilhelmine were lying to him all the time, which of course they did because they were terrified), because he was the golden child, he was generous and kind towards all his siblings and eager to help them whenever they asked, which in turn made him popular with the rest of the family as well. And Heinrich, who shared rooms with AW from the time he was four, really loved him above and beyond, same intensity as the Fritz/Wilhelmine relationship. You can see where all this is going.

Starting with the first Silesian War, Wilhelm has a wake up call in that him being the new crown prince does not mean Fritz is going to share foreign policy or any other plans with him - not then, not ever. And once Fritz is back, the bossing around starts in earnest. While AW does have the (het) sex life with mistresses Fritz scorns in princes anyway, he's by no means without the thing FW successfully drummed into all his children - the sense of duty and serving as the main purpose of a Prussian royal. He writes lengthy memoranda about improvements he'd make if he was King, for example. (Trivia: these, btw, include giving the Queen a larger budget than the Queen Mother - Fritz did the reverse - though AW was at best indifferent to his wife as well. But he did think the reigning Queen deserved to have the bigger household. Given an early anecdote is how SD threatened to have little AW whipped by rod if he didn't ask his father for a deserter's life - one of the long fellows who'd run away - , which he then successfully did, I'd venture Wilhelm might also have been less of a fan of his mother.) He also indulged in a one year long strategy game with Heinrich between the Silesian Wars and the 7 Years War. They correctly assumed yet another war would happen, though along with Fritz and most others, they did NOT see the Austria/France alliance coming, so their imaginary war was between a Prussia allied to France and an Austria allied to England. Also tellingly, Heinrich roleplayed Fritz while AW took the role of Field Marshal Gessler in this scenario. ("Le Marechal Gessler" was also much later a pseudonym Heinrich chose for a few Fritz critiques.) They did correctly predict - or Heinrich-playing-Fritz did - that he'd kick things off by invading Saxony.

Ziebura is definitely of the "Fritz was scapegoating AW for mistakes that were partially his" school when it came to the big disaster, and attaches in full an assessment of von Schmettau about Wilhelm's decision to withdraw. She also quotes at length from Amalie's report on AW's death lengthy and painful death. Amalie was present through most of it, and said report, in great detail, tearstained and with ink blots, is adressed to Fritz. It doesn't include a direct accusation, but Ziebura thinks the very fact she writes this detailed has a "this is your fault, now at least learn what it was like" subtext.

Heinrich, of course, did not need subtext. He also unequivaably did not blame a medical reason for AW's demise. He was fine with main text, writing to brother Ferdinand (the three youngest brothers were called "the divine trio" in Berlin, I learned) on June 20th: "Since eight days, I know of the fate of our unhappy brother, and since this time, I am suffering. I am trying to have patience, but I shall never forgeet my beloved broother, or the terrible reason for his death." And in the next letterer, he's even more explicit: "Our misfortune is terrible, but I admire your attitude. You are completely right in ascribing our beloved brother's deaath to grief. (..) This misfortune hails from the one who makes his entire country miserable annd drowns Europe in blood."

(Now tell us how you really feel about your older brother, Heinrich.)

Surprise factoid: the one person Fritz was able to write a non-infuriating condolence letter to was AW's neglected wife. Also, his promise in said letter to be a father to her kids does not inspire Ziebura to a sarcastic comment re: FW2 but lets her point out AW's daughter Wilhelmine did say about Fritz in her memoirs "He was for me a second father, and his affectionate behavior towards me never changed".

On to the "Fritz and Heinrich" double portrait/essay/book: that one contains among many other things excerpts from their correspondance, including from Heinrich's reply to Fritz' infamous condolence letter: In the terrible shock the death of my brother has caused, it would have been impossible fo rme to write to you about a subject which to me is incredibly painful if it hadn't pleased you to write the letter adressed to me. The feelings which move me right now are more powerful than reason. I keep seeing the image of the brother whom I loved so tenderly, his last hours, his death. Of all the sad changes and misfortunes life can offer and from which I have not been always spared, this is the most cruel and most terrible that could have struck.

Fritz writes back, trying again. Heinrich is not moved. I have sighed enough about the misunderstanding between you and my brother. Now you keep reawakening the memory and encrease my pain. Only the respect I owe you and my pain keep me silent, and I am not allowed to reply.

Just in case this isn't enough of an 18th century style "Fuck you, Fritz" (with the obelisk awaiting), von Krockow also quotes the letter about Heinrich's visit to Wilhelmine, which I had only seen paraphrased as "he saw she was dying, and so he didn't tell her about AW" in the Wilhelmine biography. In the actual text excerpt, well....

My Bayreuth sister has been close to death. She cannot write to you. I am afraid that she will not recover from this illness. She doesn't know about my brother's death yet, for one is justly concerned here that telling her about this news would destroy even the glimmer of hope for her survival.

In other words: Fritz, you know, the sibling YOU love? You've killed her along with the one I loved best as well. Think about that while you're in the field. Think long and hard.

(Heinrich: has learned the Fritzian lesson of how to deliver words that truly hurt and go to the heart with frightening efficiency.)

(And it occured to me that the nightmare Fritz told Henri de Catt about, of Wilhelmine (of all the people) accusing him not to love their father enough, might actually be a classic case of transference even more than I thought, with FW standing in for AW as well.)

Von Krockow is with Mildred that the Fritz/Heinrich relationship is basically an eerie RP of FW/Fritz, and also in this that if FW, long after his death, was the figure Fritz still wanted love and pride from as well along with wanting to be his opposite, Fritz was that very figure for Heinrich. He seems to have been absolutely indifferent towards their father, there's no remark, either good or bad, on the record. The one he hated passionately and knocked himself out to work for and kept writing at least once a week to while he was still alive and kept obsessing about after his death was Fritz.

Von Krockow is good about both brothers, and laudably isn't coy re: their sexual orientation; though it's not his main subject, he devotes a chapter to Fritz/Fredersdorff on the one hand and Heinrich/his various boyfriends on the other, from which I learned Heinrich in his old age finally managed to score one who wasn't yet another charismatic money waster but kind and devoted, a French emigré officer, Antoine Count La Roche-Aymon. Von Krockow quotes Fontane (from his Rheinsberg chapter - that travel book, I tell you!): "Beautiful, graceful, amiable, an old school chevalier in the best sense of the world, he soon moved into a position of trust, and then into a relationship of the heart with the prince, of the type the later had not been able to enjoy since Tauentzien." (A previous boyfriend.) "The Count appeared as a present from heaven to him, the evening of his life had arrived, but behold, the setting sun gave him once more a beam of warming light."

In his last will, revised a few months before his death, Heinrich had mentioned him as follows: "I express my urgent gratitude towards the Count La Roche-Aymon for the tender devotion he has shown towards me during all the time I was happy enough to have him near me."

Von Krockow's resumé that life, in the end, had been kind to Heinrich. (His chapter on the brothers' love lives does not, alas, include the hot page Marwitz episode, so I'm still in the dark about that guy's first name or just how he was related to Wilhelmine's treacherous lady-in-waiting.)

More trivia: Mildred, contemporaries did testify that Heinrich as an adult did pretend not to speak German, but they always say "pretend", i.e. no one believed this was actually true. As opposed to his brothers, he managed to visit Paris twice (once when Louis XVI had to stand sponsor for the big credit needed to pay Heinrich's boyfriend's debts), and the people he met were charmed (and found him less opinionated than Joseph and less of an irritaging chatterbox than Gustav, the two most recent royal visitors) and testified he spoke an elegant French - but with a distinct "Germanic" accent. (Not surprising, since all the Prussian royals were taught French by Huguenot emigré descendants who had themselves been born in various German principalitis.) (Fritz seems to have had something of an accent, too, at least if Voltaire is anything to go by, who mentions he had to point out that "opinion" isn't pronounced with a g at the end, and "tete" does not rhyme with "trompette".)

There is a lengthy description of Heinrich in his old age at Rheinsberg by a Count Henckel von Donnersmark (of whom the director of "The Lives of Others" is descended, btw) which is over three pages, so I can't quote it in a comment, but it does mention that when the hour got very late, Heinrich's "no, I don't speak German,not me" slipped, especially when the 7 Years War got discussed, and a favored phrase was "Das will ich Ihnen noch sagen" ("one more thing I want to tell you"). Like Fritz, he had the local theatre play only French plays, all the time, though less exclusively Voltaire focused. And he did look like a figure from an older world in the end, with his Ancien Regime fashion and wig (Heinrich lived into the 19th century, after all), an excentric gentlemen with impeccable manners till the very end.

The first of my ordered books has arrived. To state the negative first, the first name of Heinrich's mystery man is still in the dark. The documents Ziebura quotes don't mention it. Also, she provides no quote for her speculation that this was Heinrich's first boyfriend, or that he's identical with the Marwitz from the obelisk. What she does provide are extensive quotes from the (dated) letters Fritz wrote to Heinrich about this guy, as well as the entry in someone's diaries referring to this affair. Now, she mentions the letters were "unpublished", but her biography predates the Trier project, so I'm not sure whether not they are there at all. This all being said, quote time!

Diaries of Count Ernst von Lehndorff, Chamberlain to the Queen, dated January 9th 1757: "I renewed my aquaintance with a man whom I hadn't seen since 1749. It is a young Marwitz who started his career as page to the King and became his as well as Prince Heinrich's favourite. This affection went so far that the two royal brothers were fiercely arguing with each other for his sake. The young page was sent away, but after urgent petitions by Prince Heinrich rehired."

Now for letter excerpts. (All by Fritz, Heinrich's replies don't exist anymore.) Heinrich got sick near the end of carnival time and thus is in Berlin, when Fritz (who is in Potsdam) writes to him on March 3rd, 1746:

"I am glad to hear you are recovering from your colic. Don't go out again too early, and allow your body time to recover. Your little favourite is doing very well, and if he remains good, you'll soon see him again. Right now, he's pining for love and is composing elegies full of hot kisses in your honor which he intends to give you upon your return. I advise you not to exhaust yourself so that you have enough strength to express your love. The happiness of the immortals will not be equal to yours, and you will be able to drink rivers of lust in the arms of your beloved.
Adieu, mon cher Henri. I hope your illness will be the last with which you will worry my friendship for you, and that I shall soon be able to enjoy your amiable company without having to worry about you."

This is still sounds like more or less good natured big brotherly teasing (for Fritz). The next letter, alas, does not. It's dated on March 6th, 1756.

"My dear Heinrich, no, there is no crueller martyrdom than separation! How to live for a moment without the one you love? (...) Our sighs travel on country roads, and we pour our heart out as messages of our unhappy souls flying away like doves. Oh! Oh! The faithless man has forgotten me! says a certain person. Already a day has passed without a sigh of his has reached me! Surely, he's become faithless! He doesn't love me anymore! No, he doesn't love me anymore! If I had the courage, I'd tell this charming sad person: "That's no more than you deserve, you damned whore! Didn't you want to infect my poor brother with your gonorhoe? Oh! If he listened to me, he'd turn his love towards a worthier object and would send you to hell with all your nice little qualities, of which your STD, your vanity, your lies and your recklessness are but the least.
I do apologize for having committed the sacrilege of having dared to speak so dismissively of your angel's qualities. I do hope you'll forgive me."

Whatever Heinrich replied, Fritz was still not done, and wrote again the next day, March 7th:

"There is little more admirable than your fidelity. Since Pharamon and Rosamunde, Cyrus and Mandone, Pierre de Provence and the beautiful Madlone one hasn't seen the like. If you'll allow me, I'll write a novel titled "Fidelity. Love. Henri and the beautiful Marwitz", and it would be a novel so delicate, so tender, so sentimental and so sensual that it would be instructive to our youth. I would paint the gonorhea-ridden Marwitz in such lovely colors, I'd equip him with all the wit he believes himself to have, and I would above all describe all his coy affectations, as far as I was able to, with which he seems to signal silently to everyone: 'Look at me, am I not a pretty boy? Doesn't everyone have to love me, adore me, worship me? What, you little villain, you resist? You haven't yet put your heart at my feet? As for you, my angel, you'll have to die of love for me.'
Afterwards, I must describe the details of his figure, the charm of his wide shoulders, his supposedly heavy but actually seductive walk - in a word - but I can't continue, for otherwise my novel will be written by someone else. To you, my dear Heinrich, I reccommend to eat a lot, drink a lot and sleep a lot. Stay for some more days in Berlin, and do justice to my tenderness for you."

Again, we don't have Heinrich's reply. Fritz sounds a bit more apologetic and tries to pass it off as fraternal teasing in the last letter relating to this affair, dated March 9th:

"I do hope, my dear Heinrich, that this explanation will mollify you. I haven't said anything detrimental regarding your fidelity. I only listed the famously faithful couples known in history, with whom, incidentally, you can't really compare yourself, for your separation has lasted only ten days so far, and your little sweetheart lives only four miles away from you. Moreover, you can be sure to see him again soon. Pharamon had to wait for ten years before seeing Rosamonde again. I dare say there's a difference. I do hope, dear Heinrich, that this silliness don't rob me of your friendship, and that you will do me more justice in the future. But don't demand me of me that I should take your little romance seriously, and don't sulk over my jokes regarding a matter which wasn't an insult. Adieu, mon cher Henri, and believe me, I didn't hurt you intentionally. "

Edited 2019-11-26 12:18 (UTC)

Going through Ziebura's Heinrich bio sporadically instead of in linear fashion, as I am pressed for time, I must share less tragic events wherein Fritz is not the villain.

So, the 7 Years war is long over, we're in the 1770s.

Gustav: I'm on my Grand Tour, and have just heard my old man has kicked it. Might as well say to hi to Uncle Fritz, Most Famous Monarch Of Europe while I'm on my way back. I've got plans, people! Visiting Paris just illustrated to me how much absolute monarchy rocks.

Fritz to Heinrich: Ulrike's kid is coming. Mind dropping by? "For I believe the two of us are not too many to preach restraint to him, or at least quench his initial fire."

Heinrich: Okay. Gustav, you don't know how rare an event this is, but the two of us agree on something, and that something is that a coup d'etat in Sweden IS A REALLY BAD IDEA.

Fritz: Which I'm not willing to finance. Ever.

Gustav: Whatever. Bye, Uncles!

Ulrike: I am womanfully ignoring your dastardly letter about Henricus Minor, Fritz, if you finance a state visit for me. For some reason, newly crowned Gustav thinks he doesn't need my advice anymore and calls me "interfering" and "arrogant".

Heinrich: Come on, invite Ulrike. Who knows whether we'll ever see her again otherwise?

Fritz: Fine. Ulrike, you're invited.

Ulrike: *arrives with one of her daughters, gets state visit reception in Potsdam; her sister Charlotte comes from Braunschweig, which means all three of the surviving sisters as well as all surviving brothers are together at the same place at the same time*

Ulrike: Boys, I've just got a wonderful idea! Why don't we make a family trip to darling old Wusterhausen, where dear old Dad used to spend the summer holidays with us! I missed that place so much in Sweden, I can't tell you.

Fritz: You mean the house of horrors where I spent some of the worst times of my life, only made bearable by Wihelmine WHO IS NO LONGER THERE! Nope. Not coming.

Heinrich: Come on. "We will remember every corner where we were scolded and sometimes hit. But even the sufferings one remembers from one's childhood cause joy in one's advanced years."

Fritz: To you, maybe. NOT COMING.

Heinrich: Have it your way. Girls, Ferdinand, off we go.

Hohenzollern Sisters: Wow. That place brings memories. Dad was - well. But you know, Mom was worse.

Hohenzollern Brothers: WTF? Dad was way worse than Mom!

Family quarrel: *ensues*

(No really, they have a giant sibling face off about which of their parents was worse. In the end, Ulrike and Charlotte as well as Ferdinand give up, whereas Heinrich and Amalie still keep going, with Heinrich insisting FW was worst and Amalie insisting SD was worst until they swear never to talk to each other again.)

Fritz: Had a good time in dear old Wusterhausen, did we?

Heinrich: Shut up.

Ulrike: So, Heinrich, I'm hearing wonders about Rheinsberg. Why don't I visit your place next?

Heinrich: By all means. I have these wonderful musicians, including Mara the very hot Cellist, my current boyfriend. Party time for my royal sister! Fritz, mind if I borrow Gertrud Elisabeth Schmeling? Ulrike deserves to hear the best soprano of our time while she's visiting me.

Fritz: You know....

Heinrich: You're not getting thrifty, are you?

Fritz: Sure, you can have her.

Reinsberg visit by Ulrike with lots of Rokoko parties: *ensues*

Mara/Schmeling love affair: *ensues*

Heinrich: I'm not sure how that was a plot by Fritz, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was. Ah well. Mara was getting expensive. At least now La Schmeling can pay his bills.

Fritz: Ulrike, the six months I promised to finance your state visit for are almost over. Just saying.

Ulrike: Heinrich, you've got to help me with my kid. That was so touching, you defending Mom to Amalie. I'm just like her! There is no end to a mother's love!

Heinrich: Dear Nephew Gustav, be nice to your mother. "Forget the many little misunderstandings that have caused your quarrel. (...) The Queen loves you with all her heart. She talks of you with tears in her eyes, and since she loves you so much, her vulnerability is the greatest."

Gustav: Fine. Mom, you can come home. Incidentally - I've just successfully reintroduced absolute monarchy to Sweden. Next thing on my to do list: get an heir!

Ulrike: GUSTAV, I AM PROUD OF YOU. Okay, brothers, sisters, lovely to have seen you again. Farewell! Off I go to Sweden.

Fritz: Did our nephew just...

Heinrich: He did. Brace yourself, I'm still agreeing with you that this is not a good idea.

Fritz: In that spirit of rare fraternal unity, please go visit Catherine in St. Petersburg. Because I don't think she'll like an all powerful Swedish king next door.

Heinrich: *takes off to visit Catherine*

Edited 2019-11-26 15:02 (UTC)

Have read this book now, which is pretty short, and pretty depressing, though not in all regards. One of the frustrating things about the three brothers is that they were capable of not being assholes to women in unwanted marriages, even of befriending them... as long as they themselves weren't married to the ladies in question.

(BTW, considering the Heinrich bio was Eva Ziebura's first book on matters Hohenzollern and this is one of her latest, with nearly fifteen years between the time of publication, it's interesting to see her getting more critical on her fave Heinrich (re: his wife only, though) while also also presenting Fritz as not quite as much of a jerk, well, other than to his wife and brothers.)

Since we have a lot repeating names (several Wilhelmines and Amalies), I've decided to come up with a nickname system to avoid confusion.

Wilhelmine - is our Margravine of Bayreuth
Mina - is Heinrich's wife, otherwise known as Princess Wilhelmine of Hessen-Kassel
Wilhelmine Minor - is AW's daughter Wilhelmine, favored niece of Fritz

Amalie - is the unmarried sister, music lover and sharp tongued mother critisizer
Louise - is Louise Amalie, AW's wife, also EC's sister

Ferdinand - youngest Hohenzollern brother
Ferd - EC's and Louise's brother, not dying in one of Fritz' battles

Elisabeth Christine can stay EC, as only her aunt, MT's mother is called the same, and that lady does not show up in this tale.

So: EC and her sister Louise, the two Braunschweig-Bevern girls, have one big disadvantage from the start when marrying into this family, well, other than their grooms not wanting them in general - they don't have the cultural education that SD provided for her daughters, and they don't have wit - or to put it French, as the brothers did - ésprit. They also either stuttered or, as Ziebura speculates based on the description, lisped, meaning people had trouble understanding them at first. And both were pretty shy when arriving in the crazy dysfunctional clan of doom. (Mina, however, will later prove that you can be beautiful, witty, well educated and a hit in society and still get your life trainwrecked by marrying a Hohenzollern.) Fritz' unflattering description of his fiancee in letters to all and sunder, not just Wilhelmine, are well known.

EC, who notices she's seen as a disappointment, knocks herself out to improve. She studies French and music. She intercedes for Fritz with her terrifying father-in-law, who likes her (modest, silent in public - just what a woman should be). She gets him money loans from brother Ferd. And for the Rheinsberg years, this all seems to pay off. They get along. He's nice, even calls her "sweet" in a letter not adressed to Dad. Then FW dies, Fritz becomes king, and immediately makes it clear how things will be from now on. That he does not want her as part of his life in any way he can possibly avoid. This, incidentally, doesn't just mean homoscial life with the boys, it includes family outings with other female Hohenzollerns present - when he's visiting SD and Amalie, either together or apart. When it's Carnival time in Berlin EC has no idea whether or not she's supposed to participate until less than a day before getting short notice that yes, she's supposed to show up at event x and reprsent with him. Otoh, when there is a big state event in Sanssouci and Fritz belatedly realises he needs some ladies present, does he ask his wife? He does not. He really does not want her there. Instead, he quickly drags his sister and a few other ladies from Berlin and has them brought back there late at night. Writes a lamenting EC to brother Ferd, when her husband and those of his siblings currently around are off to one a non-Wusterhausen Hohenzollern country residence: "They're all gone, and I'm sitting around here like a prisoner."

So she's possibly the only person who is really really happy when AW marries her sister Louise. (Since she won't be alone anymore and will have an ally at court who loves her.) That marriage had been arranged in FW's time but happened post-Fritz ascending to the throne. Like I said in an earlier post, AW was, at best, indifferent. They had sex, they had kids, but zilch interaction beyond that. Louise during AW's life time is hardly noticed by anyone, she's regarded as utterly bland and dull and just trying to please everyone as best she can. After falling in love with Sophie von Pannwitz, AW tries to get permission from his brother to divorce her, but no dice. (She is, though, the one case which actually gets a surprisingly happy ending... of sorts... later.) In the last year of his life, post disgrace, AW, proving that he's not immune from "when miserable,kick downwards" syndrome so popular in his family, and changes his will stating that his wife is to be pensioned of but the kids are to be raised by his sister-in-law. Given his wife is actually pregnant at the time of his death, this comes across as stunningly cold and cruel, so it's a lucky thing Fritz decides to ignore that part of the will, but more about this later.)

Then there's Mina. That her marriage came to be counts as one instance where Ziebura argues Fritz was actually being more a jerk than FW, because at least the enforced Fritz/EC marriage had a dynastic reason, as Fritz was the crown prince. Otoh, the only point of Heinrich's marriage was to put him through the same thing Fritz had been put through, and never mind the unlucky bride. There was zero dynastic reason - AW at that point had already sired two male Hohenzollern kids, and between his brothers and those nephews, the royal line was definitely secure.

So Mina arrives in Berlin, she's, as mentioned, beautiful, witty, charming, well educated, and as opposed to poor dull EC and Louise, she's a hit with the royal family and everyone else from the start. SD adores her (this never happened with her sisters-in-law). AW and Ferdinand both flirt intensely with her, Fritz approves of her and is complimentary in letters about her. Heinrich, at that point, is at least polite and it looks like they can have an arrangement that works. (He's also okay with his brothers flirting with her, since this provides at least the platonic romantic games he has no interest in playing.) She's nicknamed "the fairy" - "die Fee" - which in German and French, btw has no slang connotations with homosexuality. (Considering that AW beyond the courtly flirtations keeps up an intense correspondance with her - which Heinrich knows about and is asked for permission for -, they probably would have worked out splendidly as a couple, btw. When he already knew he was dying, the last time he saw her in Berlin before going to Oranienburg to die, she was joking, so he didn't have the heart to tell her how unwell he was, and pretended. And then he went to die in Oranienburg with Amalie at his side, because if there's one thing this generation of Hohenzollern were consistent about, it's that in the end, you are always closer to your siblings than to anyone else.) So do we have a tolerable marriage here with Mina the Fairy and Heinrich? We do not. Because the death of AW and the Seven-Years-War change all.

Far from grieving AW together with her, both Ferdinand and Heinrich completely alter their behaviour towards Mina. Ferdinand doesn't just stop the flirting, he stops any friendly interaction whatsoever and is completely cold. Heinrich returns form the war with PtSD, a massive chip on his shoulder, and unhealed grief. He doesn't take it out on servants (he's great to those) or subjects in general (championing anyone from occupied Saxons to soldiers without a pension is a thing), but he does take it out on his unwanted wife in incredible petty ways. He changes her staff, dismissing the people she liked and trusted with people of his choice she doesn't even know before he inflicts them on her, and bear in mind the two have separate households,so there was no reason why he should care. He keeps withholding her budget so she has to humiliate herself and ask for the money repeatedly. And then, when she's finally allowed at Rheinsberg again, you get a soop opera style intrigue because one of Heinrich's boyfriends is about to be replaced by another (the other being Kaphengst), and not taking it well. Whereupon the about to be dumped boyfriend concludes that if he does Heinrich a favor, Heinrich won't dump him. So what does he do? Compromises Mina in public with a fake embrace/attempted kiss. There are other ladies present to testify she did not want this, but Heinrich does take the excuse to banish his wife from his presence once and all and reduce her budget some more. (The old boyfriend gets still dumped.) If anyone in Berlin receives Heinrich, his wife must never ever be there.

At the end of all this, the previously spirited, cheerful Mina is now so cowed and downbeaten that she doesn't permit herself to critisze anyone in even the slightest manner and practically asks for permission to breathe. (She'll survive Heinrich, who at least in his will leaves her a decent sum and states it their "situation" wasn't her fault, but goes blind and deaf in her old age, and will be left in Berlin once the great nieces and great nephews get out of town to escape Napoleon. That's FW3 and the famous Queen Louise, btw.)

Meanwhile, previous wallpaper Louise experiences a stunning reversal of roles. Because Fritz, possibly because this is the one person in connection with AW who didn't love AW and thus doesn't grieve for him as a person, just is impacted by his death in her role as (former) crown princess, decides to atone for his treatment of AW by being consistently kind to his widow. Also, it dawns to everyone that in this very dysfunctional clan, Louise is someone who is just... nice. She always has time for everyone. She doesn't hold a grudge. If you ask her to mediate between quarrelling family members - say, Heinrich and Amalie re: the "who was worst" argument - she will. She'll comfort you if you're in distress. The very sharp tongued Amalie when writing a "we all suck here, be warned" letter to future FW2's second wife to be, makes an exception for Louise who she says is "an angel". This combination of regard by the King and everyone liking her means Louise the widow florishes. She voices opinions in public. And lo, she has a mind of her own no one previously noticed. She plays hostess at receptions far more than her sister EC does. As mentioned, Fritz keeps that altered last will from her; on the contrary, other than unfortunate future FW2, she gets to raise her kids. Whenever she wants something, Fritz has time for her. As she doesn't respond to this by gloating but by spreading the kindness to other family members as best she can, her credit with everyone rises even more. (She also gets Fritz to be a bit nicer to EC in his old age; Lehndorff notes that unprecedented in 24 years, the King spends two hours in conversation with the Queen, alone!!!)

She still goes through heartbreak - that baby she was pregnant with when AW died, another son, doesn't surivee the year, and of course much later Henricus Minor dies. But she ends up hands down as the one of the three unwanted wives faring best in her later years.

Though EC also gets some royal regard after Fritz has died, because as it turns out, nephew FW2, in tune of doing the opposite of what his uncle did, goes out of his way to be nice to her, invites her to concerts, receptions, visits her regularly (which encourages others to visit, as this is how things go at a court), even offers her Sanssouci if she wants it. (She doesn't, as, she states, Fritz hadn't wanted her there when he was alive, she would not go against his wishes now he's dead.) EC in her old age throws herself into supporting charities and ends up at peace. Lehndorff once notes down that she loves visiting the zoo, and how strange it is that such a minor thing should give a Queen such pleasure.

And thus ends the warning tale of why you should not ever marry a Hohenzollern. At least not a male one. Sources for all this, because Ziebura is a laudable author in always providing them: Mina's diary, Louise's letters to brother Ferd, EC's letters to brother Ferd, and of course all the Hohenzollern sibling correspondence with each other.

Edited 2019-12-01 09:22 (UTC)

Which I've finished now. Like I said, this was likely Ziebura's first outing with the Hohenzollern, not, as I originally thought when seeing her list of works, a later one; it's from 1999. It also has that first time outing "Here's why my fave is cool!" drive (whereas her later outings are more of "my problematic fave is at times problematic, but still cool" persuasion.

Bits of interest I haven't already mentioned:

Heinrich was chief Prussian negotiatior in the Partitioning of Poland. He actually visited Catherine repeatedly, in St. Petersburg and elswhere, and they hit it off famously beyond negotiating; she made so much of him that people were confused because Heinrich being so obviously gay, he was the one man she showed such fondness to who never ever was suspected of having an affair with her. Heinrich was very into Catherine as well. When she died, he wore mourning for her, writing to brother Ferdinand: I am wearing (mourning) in memory of the friendship she's shown towards me, and of her genius. For losing it is a loss to the whole world. (...) She had supreme qualities. I can never forget her attention, her amiability and the power of her mind. What remains now is very small, compared to her. Of course, from a political point of view her death is a stroke of luck for us.

(In fact, in between negotiations, this had happened: Catherine to Fritz: Mind if I keep your brother as my personal satrap and make him King of Wallachia? Fritz: YES. NO HEINRICH FOR YOU.)

Other Catherine visits by Heinrich happened apropos the Swedes, as briefly mentioned at the tail of the Hohenzollern reunion saga. And you might remember she bought his paintings so he had cash to pay his boyfriend Kaphengst's debts.

Speaking of Heinrich's boyfriends, he seems to have had a thing for rough trade, with a few notable exceptions, such as the French Emigré count who was his last lover, and Mara who still fell into the charismatic money waster category most of the others did.

(Meanwhile, Lehndorff is going: "I'm right here! Would totally go for a more permanent thing! Dammit!What does he see in Krackow/Kaphengst/Tauentzien/ "50 others so far" that he doesn't see in me?)

Heinrch had the same "German literature? No such thing!" attitude Fritz did, and since he lived a while longer, his theatre at Rheinsberg ended up as one of the few places in the German states where French plays - in French - were still produced. During his first visit to Paris, he saw the 50th performance of "Figaro's Wedding", Beaumarchais' original play, not later Mozart opera, of course, and thought it hilarious. And

cahn, you'll love this - Beaumarchais told Heinrich he wanted to work together with a composer working at Joseph's court, to wit: Salieri!

In another strange moment of deja vu, this happened:

Mirabeau: comes to Prussia during Fritz' last year and stays on for another year.

Heinrich: Such a wonderful example of a witty French intellectual! Let's spend time together!

Mirabeau: *publishes trashy tell all about the Prussian court, old and new, with particular highlights being "So, the supposedly "great" Fritz was an emo weakling, his successor is a dumb playboy run by his dick, and as for Prince Heinrich, he's an incompetent old homo who can't get over himself! Let me tell you all the sex tales I've heard!"

....yeah. Fritz, in one of those moments of emotional self awareness that make him such an interesting enigma, did refer to Heinrich as "l'autre moi-meme", "my other self" on more than one occasion. (He also called him "my brother Narcissus".) This was definitely the hateship of Heinrich's life, though. And one he turned out to be addicted to, because when, after yet another of their arguments post (not much of a)War of Bavarian Succession, he managed to keep up the "not talking to you" attitude for a record one and a half years, and in theory should have been happy at Rheinsberg, with a tolerable boyfriend, country at peace and no Fritz around... he discovered he was bored to tears. And lo:

Heinrich: *starts dropping hints in letters to mutual relations and aquaintances that he's got time at his hands*

Fritz: So, Amalie may have told me you're currently somewhat idle. Want to become weekly pen pals again, with the occasional bickering visit to Potsdam?

Heinrich: YES GOD YES. You bastard.

*weekly correspondance with lengthy letters about philosophy, politics, literature and bickering*: Resumes.

He was, of course, still planning for that obelisk. The last time Heinrich saw Fritz alive was in January 1786. Upon his return, he wrote to brother Ferdinand: If you go to Potsdam next week, you can see for yourself how the old man is doing. I await with resignation the inevitable. Amalie has assured me she would like to follow him into death. I can't say the same for myself. I don't know whether we'll be bedded on roses once he's gone, but one thing I know, there will be fewer thorns than during the last 46 years.

(Amalie survived Fritz for only a year. The big Mom argument aside, she got on very well with Heinrich, who when moving into Rheinsberg had several rooms furbished as her permanent guest rooms, and kept shopping for her whenever he was somewhere interesting, whether it was Meißen - where he bought her porcellan figurines - or Paris, or St. Petersburg. She also had a better relationship with Fritz than she does in Mein name ist Bach, who not only paid her debts on a regular basis but did actively seek out her company in their later years. Other than his personnel, she was one of the last people to see him alive.)

Back to Fritz' last months.

Heinrich to Ferdinand: "I know exactly that I won't be able to cry over the death of an evil man who was like the sword of Damocles over my entire life."

Fritz: *writes deeply sad letter*

Heinrich: I don't - fuck it. Want me to come to Berlin?

Fritz: Nope, not up to our usual sessions. Maybe next month. But I'm sending you some fruits, I hear you have a cold yourself.

Heinrich to Ferdinand: This is a cunning plan to keep me from feeling relieved once he kicks it. But it won't work. DAMMIT.

Fritz dies, the funeral happens, and Heinrich assumes that since he's gotten on pretty well with Son of Favourite Brother so far, he'll be asked for advice. He's even prepared several memoranda on various political aspects.

FW2: Don't get me wrong, Uncle Heinrich, I really like you. But. Ahem. I sort of want to start a new regime here.

Heinrich: With you there.

FW2: Without the most prominent reminder of the old regime I can imagine. I mean, you were his...

Heinrich: Don't say it.

FW2: Other self.

Heinrich: Fine. I'm visiting Paris again. Vive la France!

This turns out his last Paris visit, as he barely misses the storming of the Bastille when he leaves. It's still a good visit, except this happens:

Tauentzien (boyfriend du jour, son of Fritzian general of the same name): Guess what, the Comedie Francaise plays a German drama in French translation! Let's go!
Heinrich: Why would I want to watch a German drama?
Tauentzien: Come in, it'll be fun.
*German drama starring one Frederick the Great, with the actor personally coached by Tauentzien in Fritz mannerisms and voice intonation*: Ensues
Heinrich: *sits frozen in his seat for the rest of the play, but does not run out*

During Fritz' lifetime, Heinrich had advocated for easing up on the Austrians and maybe even an alliance, but that was when MT and Joseph were on the throne. Leopold ruled only two years after Joseph's death, and then his son Franz took back all reforms and became the most reactionary Emperor since a century at least. Simultanously, the French revolution happens and happens and happens. Heinrich keeps writing memoranda, though unlike his letters to Fritz, who always argued back, these get rarely replies beyond "there, there".

Heinrich: Don't join the alliance against revolutionary France, nephew. Prussia and France should ally against reactionary Austria, now they've given up on reforms altogether; we are the champions of the enlightnment! We should not fighting France, and I'm not just talking as a Francophile here!

FW2: Yeah, no. But you do do you in Rheinsberg, uncle.

Prussian forces along with other forces: keep suffering humiliating defeats against revolutionary France

Napoleon: *starts to get noticed*

Heinrich: Nephew, please read my memos for once, "he'll make our Fritz look like an amateur"!

Heinrich: *keeps getting ignored as advisor, with only literary or family matters talked about*

Heinrich by now was too old to scuttle between Rheinsberg and Berlin, and with great regret decided to to settle closer to Berlin for his main residence. (He didn't want to move permanently into town.) Now, in his last will, FW1 had specified that if Fritz died without an heir and was succeeded by AW or AW's heirs, Wusterhausen should go to Heinrich. Which meant:)

Heinrich: Dear Ferdinand, have moved into Wusterhausen after all, put up AW's portrait in the room we used to share as kids and pretend the last twelve years never happened. Have installed a guest room for you, too.

(No, really. He moved in in March 1799. I have preserved as much of the old days as I could. I believe I can forget here what happened in the last twelve years, and I don't want to think of what will happen in the fuiture. I have put up the portrait of our mother next to my bed, and the portrait of our brother Wilhelm at the opposite wall where I can see it always. I indulge in illusions about the past and push away the present. One can't burden the mind too much with matters one cannot change.)

Ferdiand: *counts* Twelve years? Counting back from March 1799? You mean, when...

Heinrich: Don't you dare.

Moving into Wusterhausen did mean he got more family visits from the younger relations and could go and visit Berlin without that much effort. Sadly, Ziebura doesn't say, or it's not known, what the Comte de La Roche-Aymon, aka Heinrich's last boyfriend, made of exchanging Rheinsberg for Wusterhausen and AW's portrait on the wall. In 1801, when he was sick enough to know he die, Heinrich returned to Rheinsberg, though. He'd methodically organized his own funeral and tomb, and unlike Fritze's, his last instructions were obeyed.

Edited 2019-12-02 08:44 (UTC)

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