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Announcing Rheinsberg: Frederick the Great discussion post 10
So for anyone who is reading this and would like to learn more about Frederick the Great and his contemporaries, but who doesn't want to wade through 500k (600k?) words worth of comments and an increasingly sprawling comment section:
We now have a community,![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rheinsberg, that has quite a lot of the interesting historical content (and more coming regularly), organized nicely with lots of lovely tags so if there's any subject you are interested in it is easy to find :D
We now have a community,
rheinsberg, that has quite a lot of the interesting historical content (and more coming regularly), organized nicely with lots of lovely tags so if there's any subject you are interested in it is easy to find :D
MacDonogh Reread I
It took me several weeks to get through MacDonogh, due to concentration difficulties, but I highlighted passages as I went (benefits of e-books), and now here they are!
This isn't a review or systematic write-up of the book, bu rather a collection of potentially interesting or entertaining things that we haven't already talked about. The caveat I've repeated ad nauseam: MacDonogh is exactly like Wikipedia, in that he contains a lot of good material, not one of bit of which is reliable until you've tracked it down somewhere else. In fact, when I realized Wikipedia relied heavily on him, I suddenly understood a lot about Wikipedia.
But some very good advice I got when starting graduate school was that it's easy to warn people away from this author and that author, but if you only read authors who have nothing wrong with them, you'll never read anything. Read widely and critically.
And with that caveat, here's MacDonogh!
Grandpa Friedrich I:
His second wife, Frederick William's mother Sophia-Charlotte of Hanover (the sister of King George I of Great Britain), seems to have preferred her wranglings with the court philosopher Leibniz to any form of congress with her extravagant husband. She is reported to have told a courtier 'That idiot Leibniz, who wants to teach me about the infinitesimally small! Has he therefore forgotten that I am the wife of Frederick the First, how can he imagine that I am unacquainted with my own husband?'
To understand the lavishness of the conception [of F1's palace], one has only to think that the famous Amber Room of Tsarskoe Selo was designed for the Schloss. Peter the Great went into raptures when he saw it, and Frederick's austere son promptly had it packed up and dispatched to Russia in exchange for a squad of the tall soldiers he loved so much.
Tiny terror FW:
His tutor, Jean-Philippe Rebeur, had no more luck than his parents. The only way he could instill even the three Rs into the boy was by constantly drawing his metaphors from a battery of military terms. The result, as one recent biographer has expressed it, was to put Frederick William 'on a life-long war-footing with Latin, grammar and spelling.'
Tiny terrorized FW?
Extraordinary as it may sound, George had bullied Frederick William as a child, and married Caroline of Ansbach, the woman Frederick William had his eyes on at the time.
I wonder if MacDonogh has got George and FW mixed up, since he likes to mix people up. Or maybe George started it, and FW finished it?
FW inaugurating his reign:
'Gentlemen, our good master is dead,' he told his father’s courtiers. 'The new king bids you all go to hell.'
Size IS everything, according to FW:
When a stag was sighted, there were hunts in the forest at Stern around the king’s modest lodge. The building [Jagdhaus Stern] still exists, its main room of the Tabakscollegium decorated with hunting scenes, the king in person administering the coup de grâce. A more unusual decorative feature are the antlers shed each year by the king's pet stag 'Big Hanss', a present from the Alte Dessauer. Given his royal owner, the beast was naturally also a giant: the king appreciated size above all else.
FW's A+ parenting toward his daughters:
In general he was not overly impressed with girl-children: he was concerned that they might not all find husbands. He even went so far as to describe them as weeds, and to suggest that they should be drowned at birth, like kittens.
And toward his son:
When the British court asked for a portrait of the crown prince to show to Amalia, Frederick William replied unkindly that she should be sent a picture of a 'big monkey, that's what he looks like.'
Voltaire might agree? He used to call his monkey Frederic II and call Fritz "Luc", after his monkey Luc, and say that Fritz was "like a monkey, he bites the hand that caresses him." (Fritz, as we recall, had Voltaire's rooms at Sanssouci decorated with monkeys when after their acrimonious parting.)
"Brother Voltaire" the honorary Hohenzollern indeed!
Fritz at Küstrin:
Frederick William was keen to wean him on to beer, Küstrin beer being apparently rather good. One does not get the impression that Frederick was utterly convinced, and he told his father that he had been drinking champagne, but only under doctors' orders.
Rare moment of frat boy fun at Küstrin:
At the end of September (1731), he received a visit from his mad, bad cousin Charles of Brandenburg-Schwedt. They drank the king’s health and, in a suitably hearty gesture, smashed all the glasses afterwards. To his new friend Frau von Wreech, Frederick confessed the extent of the damage: 'We didn't really drink that much, but we made a great deal of noise, we smashed a few windows and reduced a few ovens to rubble.'
*Not*, note, the mad, bad (and dangerous to know? Or at least to be married to) Margrave Friedrich Wilhelm of Brandenburg-Schwedt that Wilhelmine didn't marry and poor other sister Sophia Dorothea did.
Wikipedia doesn't give me any hints that Charles was actually mad or bad, this one window-smashing episode aside, so I wonder if MacDonogh is getting them confused. Or perhaps that branch of the family could give the main Hohenzollern line a run for their money too!
Fritz getting married:
It was Seckendorff who sent the gossip back to Vienna about the wedding night, 'That the king had to parley and threaten the crown prince to get him into the bridal bed, but that he didn't stay there more than an hour and afterwards was clearly to be seen walking in the valley…'
EC getting married:
The linchpin of Elisabeth's suite was a massive ceremonial bed, a present from the king (she actually slept in a smaller one alongside). Questions were being raised once again as to whether there was any sexual congress between the couple.
Fritz at Rheinsberg nicknaming his friends:
Ernst-Christoph von Manteuffel, for example, was 'Quinze-vingts' because he claimed he was 'too blind to illuminate the prince', or sometimes he was 'the Devil', which played on the diabolic part of his name. There was 'Caesarion', an allusion to the diminutive emperor in 'Keyserlingk', who was also the 'Swan of Mitau', in a reference both to his gracefulness and to the Baltic port near his birthplace. Algarotti was another swan, sometimes of Padua, occasionally Mantua, once or twice Venice. His architect was 'Apollodore' or 'le chevalier Bernin'. Jordan was 'Hephaestion' or 'Tindal'. Grumbkow was referred to as 'Biberius' or 'the Cassubian': he came from Pomerania, like the Slavic tribes of that name. Fouqué was 'Chastity'. The military man was reputed one of the best actors of the court. Lastly, the Saxon envoy Suhm was 'Diaphanes'.
Note on "Quinze-vingts": "After the hospital for the blind in Paris. Saint I Louis’s foundation offered beds for 300 blind men and women: fifteen times twenty. The number was associated with the blind ever after."
I'm not entirely sure Caesarion counts as an emperor, but that's not nearly as bad as not recognizing Hephaestion and struggling to come up with a connection to Hephaestus. I promise you, MacDonogh, Fritz knew who Hephaestion was. (I believe he later acquired a painting of Alexander and Hephaestion for his picture gallery.)
Speculates that "Tindal" may be an allusion to William Tyndale.
He doesn't say anything about Bernin, but I'm guessing Bernini.
Apollodorus is probably Trajan's architect, not the more famous ones that immediately came to my mind when I saw this name.
The architect in question is Knobelsdorff, btw.
Diaphanes is a bit of a mystery, different biographers have different explanations. MacDonogh attributes it to Suhm's open-heartedness. If I ever write my Suhm fic, you'll see my own headcanon.
Fritz with his friends at Rheinsberg:
This circle formed the basis for Frederick's 'Bayard Order', commemorating the famous French knight. No joke was intended. The order existed for the serious study of the arts of war. It had twelve members, including Frederick’s brothers William and Henry and, uncharacteristically, his sister Charlotte. The remainder were close friends. The Grand Master was Fouqué. Deliberations were held in archaic French.
EC can get favors out of FW for Fritz, but doesn't quite pass the broccoli test:
At the beginning of 1736, for example, Frederick William asked her just what was missing at Rheinsberg: 'I wasn’t aware of anything other than mirrors and chairs … I forgot to mention the ticking for the tableware.' A few days later the king plundered his father’s uninhabited palaces and 150 English chairs arrived at Rheinsberg. Frederick, however, had a rather more grandiose conception for his new home, and he put them straight into storage. He did not want any old junk which his father found lying around the royal palaces.
Bielfeld reports on life at Rheinsberg:
Keyserlingk entered the halls like a whirlwind, 'or like Boreas in the Ballet of the Rose'. Bielfeld later encountered the Balt returning from hunting dressed in a nightshirt. 'While he changed, he recited passages from the Henriade to me and long chunks of German poetry, he spoke to me about horses and hunting, performed a few pirouettes … and discoursed all the while on politics, mathematics, architecture and tactics.'
'We see the prince and princess only at table, at play, at the ball, the concert, or other common pleasures of which they participate.' Despite the restricted size of the house, Frederick could elude his courtiers, and concerts were by invitation only. He was generally closeted in his seven-room empire upstairs, but he was occasionally sighted, wearing the uniform of his regiment, Bielfeld regretted his inaccessibility: 'I would freely go some leagues barefooted, at least once a week, to enjoy the delicious pleasure of supping in his company.' There was still a chance to see him amusing himself at the ball: 'The prince dances in a noble and graceful manner. In a word, he loves all rational pleasures, except the chase, the exercise of which he thinks as troublesome, and scarce more useful than chimney-sweeping.'
One day Frederick came down from his ivory tower (it was indeed a tower) and joined in the debauch. Champagne was served and everyone got drunk. Bielfeld had to go out to empty his bladder. When he returned, the crown princess had changed his water for celery wine, which he then, in turn, poured into his wine to dilute it. 'I became joyous.' Frederick made him drink bumper after bumper of Lunel muscat. When Elisabeth broke a glass, it became the signal for a rout: 'in an instant all the glasses flew to the several corners of the room; and all the cristals, porcelain, piers, branches, bowls, vases, etc. were broke into a thousand pieces. In the midst of this universal destruction the prince stood, like the man in Horace, who contemplates the crash of worlds with a look of perfect tranquillity.'
The evening ended badly for Bielfeld: he fell down the grand staircase and passed out. A servant woman mistook him for a dog and kicked him in the guts, calling him by 'an appellation somewhat dishonourable'. The rest of the party had taken to their beds and remained there all day. Such larks were rare at Rheinsberg: 'the prince is very far from being a toper, he sacrifices only to Apollo and the Muses; one day, however, he may perhaps raise an altar to Mars'.
That all sounds lovely, but I hope the "made him drink" wasn't the kind of "made him drink" that FW had done to him. However, in his letter (which I checked), aside from the falling down the stairs incident, he seems to find the entire evening enjoyable, rather than something he later said he didn't want to do (as Fritz did), and even the accident he said he later laughed at, after he recovered. And apparently Fritz came and visited him at his sickbed every day until he did recover. So I'm going to go with "not roleplaying Dad
for once."Early Voltaire letters:
Voltaire was getting to grips with the prince's phonetic spelling, which characterised his French as much as his German: 'auser' rather than 'oser', 'tres' instead of ‘trait’, 'matein' for 'matin', etc. More important, perhaps, his inability to pronounce certain words made it impossible for him to scan his lines: 'amitié' had four syllables instead of three, 'nourricier' three and not four; 'aient' one and not two.
Keyserlingk visits Cirey and has the hots for Émilie:
'when she spoke, I was in love with her mind; and when she didn’t, I was [obsessed with] her body'.
Haven't found the letter for this yet, but haven't looked systematically. Am curious about those brackets.
FW to Pöllnitz in the twilight years of his life:
I am not that worried about living, for I leave behind me a son who possesses all the gifts [necessary] for a good ruler. I should not have said that five years ago: he was still too young then; but, thanks be to God, he has changed and I am satisfied. He has promised me to maintain the army and I am reassured that he'll keep his word. I know he loves the soldiers, he has understanding and everything will go well.
Citation: Carl Hinrichs, Der allgegenwärtige König: Friedrich der Grosse im Kabinett und auf Inspektionsreisen 3rd ed, Berlin, 1943, 41; Jessen, 80.
Have not been able to check this citation.
MacDonogh thinks FW is a big fan of future Frederick the Great:
Austria's ingratitude towards him riled the king at the end. He must have felt a fool to have placed so much trust in Charles VI. He had not even been informed of the marriage of the Archduchess Maria Theresa to the duke of Lorraine, and despite his willingness to fight for them, they had shown no serious inclination to win him Jülich and Berg. On 2 May 1736 he pointed to the crown prince, that Fritzchen who had caused him so much heart- and belly-ache in the past, and with a rare gift of prophecy he said: 'Here stands someone who will avenge me.'
No citation! From the same guy who said the 1722 political testament specifies his heir should try to get Silesia.
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
Ha. Yeah, no. I mean, there's certainly evidence FW was pissed off at the lack of imperial support re: Jülich and Berg, but I don't recall any prophecies of avenging sons in the books I've read. Now Maybe there are some documents proving just this, but McDonogh's brazen Invention re: what is and isn't in the Political Testament doesn't inspire me with confidence. Especially what is in the Testament is a stern warning to his successors that wars of aggression are of the Evil.
Sophia Charlotte's crack about F1: sounds vaguely familiar, I think Crown Prince Fritz might have included it in a Voltaire letter as part of dissing Granddad and talking up Dad.
I wonder if MacDonogh has got George and FW mixed up, since he likes to mix people up. Or maybe George started it, and FW finished it?
Well, George was older. And may have made a taunt? Still, all the other mentions of this I've seen name little FW as the aggressor (and winner of the fight). Though given the personalities involved, I could believe it of either.
Schwedt brothers: have seen referred them to both as "rowdy", but don't recall any negative stories about Karl as opposed to older Schwedt, either, so I'm opting for confusion. The married-to-Sophie one provoked even our Lehndorff into saying the one thing he did right was the timing of his death, because he died when the court was already in mourning (for Ulrike's husband, I think), and thus didn't have to go to additional expenses for the Mad Margrave.
I'm not entirely sure Caesarion counts as an emperor
He doesn't. At best, he counts as a Pharao, since I think Cleopatra made her son nominal co-regent after her other nominal co-regent, the younger brother (not the one she'd been at war with) had died. Also, McDonogh proves he's bad at German, because that name is such a simple, literal pun and translation. Caesarion = little Caesar. Old fashioned German has the -ling as a miminutive form. As in "Däumling", for example. Keyserling = Kaiserling (in modern spelling) = little Caesar. Tolkien would never have made that mistake, because Saxon English does a similar thing. The younger members of Alfred the Greath's family = Aethelings.
It had twelve members, including Frederick’s brothers William and Henry and, uncharacteristically, his sister Charlotte
That is interesting, if true. Not least because it would indicate either AW or Heinrich could have visited Fritz at Rheinsberg. Otoh, Charlotte married the Duke of Braunschweig in 1733, simultanous to the Fritz/EC marriage, and her and the Duke showing up at Rheinsberg is far more likely.
Bielfeld: forgot to say, Hamilton called Bielfeld unreliable on account on him supposedly writing this letters from Rheinsberg years later, not during - some crack about "them having had no earthly recipient" - , but it might just be snobbery because Bielfeld also gets dissed as a jumped up bourgois among nobles by him.
Will comment on all the other goodness as well, must dash, I'm with the AP's right now, very limited online time!
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
Were they brothers? Wikipedia has them as first cousins, at least if I've got the right individuals. (I might not.) It does say not to confuse Friedrich Wilhelm, Margrave of Brandenburg-Schwedt (Sophie's husband) with his first cousin Margrave Friedrich Wilhelm of Brandenburg-Schwedt, who was Karl's brother and had "Margrave" as a courtesy title.
...Thanks, 18th century.
Also, McDonogh proves he's bad at German, because that name is such a simple, literal pun and translation. Caesarion = little Caesar.
MacDonogh is bad at languages in general--heck, I got that wordplay without even knowing German, it's that straightforward--but I think what he's really bad at is Classics.
What I suspect is going on here is that he's never heard of Caesarion, just like he's never heard of Hephaestion, and he thinks it's a reference to a Caesar's (probably Julius or Octavian) height, hence "diminutive emperor." I seem to remember Octavian wearing platform sandals to appear taller (or being accused of doing same in propaganda), although it's probably giving MacDonogh too much credit for Classics knowledge to assume he even knows that.
And when I said "I'm not entirely sure Caesarion counts as an emperor" I was engaging in sarcastic understatement, because at one point I actually memorized the emperors up to Romulus Augustulus (and yes, that included a bunch of overlapping claimants, not all of whom got recognized by the Senate) and could recite their names off the top of my head, and I knew their major deeds and circumstances of death. I can no longer do that, but I can tell you Caesarion's not on anyone's list.
You and I are researching Fritz with the handicap of not knowing French literature; MacDonogh was researching him with the handicap of absolutely no Classics. (I'm skeptical he knows much about French literature either, but it's hard to know less than I do, so at least there's that.)
Tolkien would never have made that mistake, because
Because Tolkien knew languages, period. Yes, I know -ling from Old English too, because I got my PhD in dead languages, but it's also just not that hard!
That is interesting, if true. Not least because it would indicate either AW or Heinrich could have visited Fritz at Rheinsberg. Otoh, Charlotte married the Duke of Braunschweig in 1733, simultanous to the Fritz/EC marriage, and her and the Duke showing up at Rheinsberg is far more likely.
The other possibility I was imagining is Fritz & co. visiting Berlin, which we know at least he did every winter, and the siblings participating then and perhaps by correspondence as well. But it *is* possible they could visit Rheinsberg.
Then again, it's also possible FW wanted Fritz to invade Silesia, but I don't believe everything I read in MacDonogh. ;)
Interesting re Bielfeld. His letters in the volumes I've checked have dates and recipients, but then my volumes of Catt's memoirs have all these long speeches in quotation marks attributed to Fritz and the dates on which he's supposed to have said them, so Bielfield could be a novelist too.
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
(Anonymous) 2020-01-31 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)Just ran across it in my reading of Lavisse (p. 95), with no citation. Much like the "The new king bids you all go to hell" quote. So if it's invented, at least it's not MacDonogh who invented it.
Okay, Lavisse gives it in German, and so I've googled that phrase, and it goes back at least to 1835, Friedrich Wilhelm I., König von Preussen, Friedrich Christoph Förster. Many people like to quote it, but he's the earliest I'm finding.
Oh, look, Förster believes in citations. <3 May 2, 1736. Journal secret, p. 138. Secret diary of whom?
Seckendorf!
*tracks down Seckendorf's journal, omg we need this for so many reasons*
Yep, there it is. "Disant en montrant le prince royal, 'Voicy quelqu'un que me vengera un jour.'" He seems to be upset about the MT/FS marriage. Which makes sense, given the date.
Well, guess what's going in the Fritzian library? :D
He alternates between French and German in the diary, if you want to skim the German entries for gems.
Especially what is in the Testament is a stern warning to his successors that wars of aggression are of the Evil.
I don't consider this necessarily mutually exclusive with FW wanting to get back territory that he feels his ancestors shouldn't have given up. Humans in general and politicians especially are really good at saying that unjust wars are bad, and then coming up with rationalizations for how their own wars are totally just. I'm not saying FW did this with Silesia, but I'm saying he could have. I would need to see evidence that he did, though, before believing that he had a particular interest in Silesia the way he did other territories to which he felt he had a claim. But I won't be surprised if we someday run across a source for MacDonogh's statement that FW was displeased about the Great Elector (?) giving up the claim somewhere, just not in the 1722 Political Testament. Especially if half of what Lavisse is telling me about FW's politics is true.
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
Ha. Yeah, no. I mean, there's certainly evidence FW was pissed off at the lack of imperial support re: Jülich and Berg, but I don't recall any prophecies of avenging sons in the books I've read.
Just ran across it in my reading of Lavisse (p. 95), with no citation. Much like the "The new king bids you all go to hell" quote. So if it's invented, at least it's not MacDonogh who invented it.
Okay, Lavisse gives it in German, and so I've googled that phrase, and it goes back at least to 1835, Friedrich Wilhelm I., König von Preussen, Friedrich Christoph Förster. Many people like to quote it, but he's the earliest I'm finding.
Oh, look, Förster believes in citations. <3 May 2, 1736. Journal secret, p. 138. Secret diary of whom?
Seckendorf!
*tracks down Seckendorf's journal, omg we need this for so many reasons*
Yep, there it is. "Disant en montrant le prince royal, 'Voicy quelqu'un que me vengera un jour.'" He seems to be upset about the MT/FS marriage. Which makes sense, given the date.
Well, guess what's going in the Fritzian library? :D
He alternates between French and German in the diary, if you want to skim the German entries for gems.
Especially what is in the Testament is a stern warning to his successors that wars of aggression are of the Evil.
I don't consider this necessarily mutually exclusive with FW wanting to get back territory that he feels his ancestors shouldn't have given up. Humans in general and politicians especially are really good at saying that unjust wars are bad, and then coming up with rationalizations for how their own wars are totally just. I'm not saying FW did this with Silesia, but I'm saying he could have. I would need to see evidence that he did, though, before believing that he had a particular interest in Silesia the way he did other territories to which he felt he had a claim. But I won't be surprised if we someday run across a source for MacDonogh's statement that FW was displeased about the Great Elector (?) giving up the claim somewhere, just not in the 1722 Political Testament. Especially if half of what Lavisse is telling me about FW's politics is true.
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
I'm still having a quick look at the journal, which is indeed a wild mixture of two thirds French, one third German phrases, and btw also the source for Fritz' "entertaining during dinner, to be locked up after dinner" remark about Pöllnitz. Made to Grumbkow, and told by him to Seckendorff. Just for added confusion, though, it appears the journal writer is NOT, repeat, NOT Seckendorff the old schemer, later to be kidnapped by mobster boss Fritz so he has someone to trade to the Austrians, but a nephew or cousin. (In the page longe conversation with FW in German, he says "mein Onkel", but in French it's either mon oncle or mon cousin. Which fits with (Friedrich Heinrich von) Seckendorff the old schemer's wiki entry reporting him as governor of Mainz and fighting the French in the Polonian war of succession, and then still in the field in the Russian-Austrian-Turkish war from 1736 - 1739, no longer ambassador to Prussia in 1734, and this journal starting thereafter. I mean, even Seckendorff can't be in two places at the same time.
Other Seckendorff, at a guess, might be Christoph Friedrich von Seckendorff-Adebar, but that's just because the birthdates and dying dates make it possible.
Other Seckendorff does, however, use all the familiar code names - Olympia for SD, Biberius for Grumbkow (I know McDonogh says that's Fritz' nickname for him, but the Austrians definitely got their first), Le Diable for Mantteuffel (ditto). Fritz is, I kid you not, "Junior", if he isn't the Crown Prince.
More in another comment.
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
:D I have to say, I'm much more motivated to go digging through German sources when I know I have someone who can help me get the most out of them!
And Lavisse is turning out to be a cache of small gems. Remember, he's the one who quoted the letter from FW to Lepel ordering Fritz to watch the execution, which allowed us to definitively refute Münchow's claim that there was no such order.
I'm definitely keeping a list of entertaining Lavisse quotes to pass on once I'm done reading, just like with MacDonogh.
which is indeed a wild mixture of two thirds French, one third German phrases
You think that's wild, you should see Catt's diary. Partway through, he decides he's going to start switching between French and Latin in the same sentence. Swear to God he writes "Le Rex voulut," "s'ils nous aggressi erant," and "adjutorem principis Ferdinand, pour voir comme il percuteret Russianos." You can add that to the list of things I was not expecting from the diary.
About 1/3 of the way through the manual cleanup, partly because I keep stopping to read as I go. I've found that Fritz does talk to him about not being allowed to learn Latin! It's not the full direct discourse that's in the memoirs, but the topic of discussion came up. Meaning that he did at least allude to his childhood abuse when talking to Catt.
Just for added confusion, though, it appears the journal writer is NOT, repeat, NOT Seckendorff the old schemer, later to be kidnapped by mobster boss Fritz so he has someone to trade to the Austrians, but a nephew or cousin.
That is in fact far more complicated than I anticipated. I admit I dropped it in the library as soon as I found it and went back to alternating between Lavisse and Catt, hoping that the Royal Reader would pick it up. And indeed, the Royal Reader reads at a truly royal pace!
I know McDonogh says that's Fritz' nickname for him, but the Austrians definitely got their first
To be fair to MacDonogh (who, now that I check his endnotes, cites this journal extensively), he never says Fritz invented the nickname, only that he used it. Much like Algarotti the swan, Fritz is using an existing nickname. Well before Fritz comes onto the scene, MacDonogh writes,
What brought together all three of the main protagonists [FW, Grumbkow, Seckendorff] in Prussian foreign policy and the marriage affair was drink. Seckendorff was a great toper, and his nephew claims that Grumbkow's consumption was no less 'astonishing', a fact generally recognised at the time, for he was known as 'Biberius' to his friends. Seckendorff had the harder head though, and was able to wheedle secrets out of the Prussian minister in his cups; and better still, remember them the next morning.
MacDonogh also says, of the tobacco parliament,
...the Tabakscollegium, where Seckendorff endured countless sessions to find the right opportunities to get his own way. Like Pöllnitz and the Alte Dessauer, Seckendorff did not actually smoke, but stuck a pipe in his mouth all the same and occasionally pressed his lips together to give the impression he was puffing on it.
Fritz is, I kid you not, "Junior", if he isn't the Crown Prince.
OMG. This is SUCH a mobster film! Okay, on to your write-ups in their full glory.
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
Blanning to the rescue: he names the author as Baron Christophe Louis de Seckendorff. Preuss agrees. Apparently, Blanning talks at length about Manteuffel and the Seckendorff diary (and even "Junior"!), and it all went whoosh! over my head at the time. That's why rereading him is next on my list after Lavisse.
We've come so far in so few months!
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
BTW, if the Abbé de Prades was able to clean out his fellow prisoners of their money by gambling, and Lehndorff could visit the legendary schemer Seckendorff as if it was a social call, I assume if you weren't Trenck, Magdeburg imprisonment conditions (for nobles at least) weren't too harsh...
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
Okay, this is super mean but it is HILARIOUS!
'Gentlemen, our good master is dead,' he told his father’s courtiers. 'The new king bids you all go to hell.'
This sounds like a very intriguing work of historical fiction and maybe I shall read it :D
(That is, this sounds like the kind of story that might or might not be true and probably isn't cited but the bio seems very readable and with lots of interesting stories.)
Even I knew about Caesarion, lol! Okay, in my case because of reading Judith Tarr's historical fiction, but anyway.
Re: MacDonogh Reread I
Isn't it?
this sounds like the kind of story that might or might not be true and probably isn't cited
I just ran into it in Lavisse, so it's at least a story that goes back to the 19th century!
the bio seems very readable and with lots of interesting stories
Definitely lots of interesting stories; readable...well, your mileage may vary, but I find the style very dry. I found Blanning a much more effortless read.
But if it weren't for MacDonogh reporting on Mimi (yes, he got the gender wrong, but none of us knew that story at all!) I don't think I would have gotten intrigued enough to go looking into Suhm, who is now one of my favorite Fritz boyfriends. <3
So deeeeefinitely glad I read him.