Remember when I said Fritz must have gone around telling everyone about his escape plans in hopes someone would take some initiative and get him out of there? And instead, everyone tried to talk him out of it, and he had to come up with his own plan, and part of the reason it failed was because *everyone* knew he wanted out of there?
We have that exact sequence of events happening in Suhm's letter to his boss King Augustus. Reminder: it's October 1728, so two years before the escape attempt.
Suhm shows up at Wusterhausen, Fritz accosts him and starts telling him how terrible his life is, so emphatically that Suhm is flustered. Fritz says, "I say this to all my friends that I believe I can count on, in the hope that someone will get me out of this slavery in which I've been so cruelly placed." Actual quote, in direct discourse as reported by Suhm.
Suhm: I counseled patience and said that advertising his discontent just makes it harder for him to change the opinions he expresses so that his father is pleased with him, and that demonstrating his love for his father will lead to his father treating him better.
Fritz: I'VE TRIED THAT! Nothing works. Nothing moves him. Please, let your king have pity on me and intervene so that I can travel. I'll go anywhere he wants, just to be able to live more freely.
Suhm: That's not so easy to do, and the more you make it known that you want to get out of here, the harder your father's going to make it.
They get interrupted.
Fritz: *won't stop begging for someone to have pity on him and the state he's in*
Suhm: *does not stop explaining how making his opinions more acceptable to his father is the way to go*
Yes, literally, "il me réitéra sans cesse la prière," "he repeated his prayer ceaselessly to me," and "je ne cessay," "I did not stop."
And thus, when 1730 rolls around, Fritz has already tried to escape at least once (November 1729), with Peter, who's sent away to Wesel in January 1730, and by August, everyone in charge of Fritz knows to keep an eye on him, which makes his well-advertised escape plan even more likely to fail.
And then, in the next paragraph, Fritz is forced by Dad to get drunk! Avec une grande répugnance! And it causes him to start complaining about his treatment in one breath and reiterate in the next how much he loves Dad. And then want hugs and kisses.
And then people don't even believe it's real.
SMH.
Also, from reading the French, it appears that I mis-parsed the German: it's not that Fritz told Suhm the next day that he had hated getting drunk; he told him at the time that he hated drinking so much and was sure that he'd be really sick the next day. So my morning-after hurt/comfort headcanon is an AU. Bloody hell, can't the boy get some hurt/comfort instead of hurt/"have you tried appeasing your abuser better?" I know everyone means well and has limited options, but, you know, we're still telling abuse victims/bullied kids that today.
And before anyone wonders if maybe Suhm got to comfort Fritz the next day anyway, well...if I'm reading the letters correctly, Suhm arrives in Wusterhausen on the 17th, the drinking episode took place on the 19th, and Suhm is back in Berlin on the 20th.
Well. I knew Fritz was telling everyone about his desire to get out of there as a cry for help and a hope someone else would rescue him, without him having to figure out his own escape plan, and I knew that no one did, but seeing it spelled out like that is so painful.
Ugh.
On a more cheerful note, Koser has a bit on the four reasons Manteuffel thought Fritz liked him, which I ran across when looking for Suhm:
Wenn der Kronprinz ihm sein Vertrauen schenkte, so geschah es, wie Manteuffel annahm, „aus vier Gründen": erstens vermöge seines ungewöhn lichen Triebes, sich zu unterrichten, zweitens aus etwas guter Meinung für Manteuffel, drittens in der Voraussetzung, daß derselbe ein unabhängiger und uninteressierter alter Mann sei, und endlich, weil dieser alte Mann nie im Lehrton zu ihm sprach.
My interpretation of this, please correct any mistakes:
1) Manteuffel's unusual drive to teach himself. 2) A good opinion of Manteuffel. 3) He was an independent and disinterested old man. (I still wonder when the scales fell from Fritz's eyes.) 4) He never lectured Fritz.
I'm sure (4) was key!
Looking for Manteuffel mentions in the Suhm correspondence, I found one.
There have been new harassments these past days. It all comes from a jealousy that Bredow has against Wolden. The first found a way to insinuate to the King that I was a man without religion, that Manteuffel and you had contributed a lot to pervert me, and that Wolden was a madman who was the buffoon with us, and who was my favorite. You know that the charge of irreligion is the last refuge of the slanderers, and that, having said that, there is nothing more to say. The King caught fire, I held myself tight, my regiment worked wonders, and the handling of arms, a little flour thrown on the heads of soldiers, men over six feet, and many recruits, were stronger arguments than those of my slanderers. Everything is quiet now, and there is no longer talk of religion, of Wolden, of my persecutors, or of my regiment.
So one, FW thinks Manteuffel and Suhm have perverted ("pervertir") Fritz, presumably because they all like Wolff, and FW won't like Wolff for two more years. Two, when you're accused of irreligion, what do you do? Spruce up your regiment, make sure you meet quotas, and above all, those men over six feet! Strongest arguments you can get.
Hamilton tells me that Manteuffel had an unusually disappointing 1740:
It is painful to know that Manteuffel was waiting eagerly for Suhm's arrival and counting on his being appointed successor to Thulemeier, the Minister of State (who died August 4th 1740), expecting, as a matter of course, that through him he himself and his Dresden employers would at once be put in possession of the deepest secrets of the Prussian government, more directly and much more accurately than they could get them from any subordinate.
Suhm dies November 8 without ever making it, and Manteuffel gets kicked out of Prussia sometime in November, shortly before the Silesian invasion. Now there's someone who didn't foresee Frederick the Great--Manteuffel!
The question of whether Suhm would have been allowed to play a political role is an interesting one. You'd think! And yet Fritz's letter to him after becoming king asks whether he wants to give up being a minister in order to lead the reflective life of a sage, and if he can find something in Fritz's company that compensates him for politics.
Interestingly, that does support my idea that Fritz would have relegated Katte to an artistic/intellectual role. With luck, Katte would have taken that well and it would have been good for their relationship with less potential for conflict than a military and/or political role. Headcanon, anyway! (I still hope he's ready to be micromanaged.)
In fairness to Suhm: if he'd helped Fritz escape, August probably would have had something very unpleasant in store for him for starting a war with Prussia. ("You're too old for Paris, and he's not Helen of Troy" would have been the least of it.) Was this before or after Fritz visited Dresden with FW, btw?
It's not that I expect Suhm to help him escape. Look at what happened to the people who did! It's just that there are better ways to validate an abuse victim than "But have you tried appeasing your abuser?" "YES!" "Try harder!"
Also, at this point Fritz isn't asking for help with a secret escape plan. He's asking Suhm to ask August to try harder to get FW to *let* him go to Dresden or Warsaw or St. Petersburg or China or wherever that isn't Wusterhausen. Which is something August will try later, at Zeithain in June 1730, and FW will give the famous response: "Yes--if there's a war on."
Again: might not be politically feasible for August to push too hard. But there are better ways of communicating that to 16-yo Fritz. And honest to god, I think there are better ways of asking him to cooperate more with his father for his own ends.
I know that I wouldn't have known any better ways in the 18th century either. There was no internet and no psychology section in the bookstore. And I know Suhm was totally put on the spot there. But the fact remains that, while I don't blame Suhm any more than I blame anyone else who wanted to help but couldn't figure out a more effective way of doing it...the effect on Fritz of all these messages he was getting was still profoundly psychologically damaging.
FTR: I do not consider it anyone's job to rescue someone else's abused kid at their own expense. I myself am not rescuing any abused kids, including ones closely related to me. It's just seeing Suhm inadvertently reinforce the wrong message that's painful. But I forgive him, because I know if he could have figured out a better way, he would have done it.
This is October 1728, so 9 months after the January Dresden visit.
But the fact remains that, while I don't blame Suhm any more than I blame anyone else who wanted to help but couldn't figure out a more effective way of doing it...the effect on Fritz of all these messages he was getting was still profoundly psychologically damaging.
Oh absolutely. Incidentally, in the passage of Mitchell's journal where he mentions Küstrin, he also talks about the FW method of child raising in general and it's worth noting that as opposed to the Henri de Catt Version, here Fritz doesn't use the indirect plural "they" or the anonymous "one". cahn here's the entire passage, copied by yours truly because it's in English already and thus I don't have to translate and am able to do this in minimal time:
He appeared to me to be extremely affected with the death of the Queen Mother—complained that his misfortunes came too thick to be borne; he then was pleased to tell me a great deal of the private history of his family; of the manner in which he had been educated, owning at the same time the loss he felt for the want of proper education, blaming his father, but with great candour and gentleness, and acknowledging that in his youth he had been bien étourdi, and deserved his father's indignation, which, however, the late King, from the impetuosity of his temper, had carried too far. He told me that by his mother's persuasion and that of his sister of Bayreuth, he had given a writing under his hand, declaring that he never would marry any other person but the Princess Amelia of England; that this was wrong, and provoked his father. He said he could not excuse it, but from his youth and want of experience; that his promise unhappily was discovered, the late Queen Caroline, to whom it was sent, having shown or spoke of it to General Diemar. He had betrayed the secret to Seckendorff, who told it to the King of Prussia; upon this discovery, and his scheme of making his escape, his misfortunes followed. He told me, with regard to making his escape, that he had long been unhappy and harshly used by his father, but what made him resolve upon it was, that one day his father struck him, and pulled him by the hair, and in this dishevelled condition he was obliged to pass the parade, that from that moment he had resolved, coute qui coute, to venture it.
That during his imprisonment at * ** he had been treated in the harshest manner; brought to the window to see * * * beheaded; that he fainted away. That [Katt] might have made his escape and saved himself, the Danish minister having given him notice, but he loitered, he believed, on account of some girl he was fond of.
He said the happiest years of his life were those he spent at * * * a house he has given to his brother Prince Henry. There he retired after his imprisonment, and remained till the death of the late King. His chief amusement was study, and making up for the want of education by reading, making extracts, and conversing with sensible people and men of taste that were then about him. He talked much of the obligations he had to the Queen Mother, and of his affection to his sister the Margravine of Bayreuth, with whom he had been bred. He observed that the harmony that had been maintained in his family was greatly owing to the education they had had, imperfect and defective in many things, but good in this, that all the children had been brought up, not as princes, but as the children of private persons. He mentioned the differences there had been between their family and that of Hanover, and spoke of the late King's testament, but with great moderation.
Mitchell does not comment on this in his journal, either, he goes on noting down military news. Ingeneral, he comes across as believing in paternal authority - when Boswell shows up on the Grand Tour and doesn't want what Mitchell's friend, Boswell's Dad has planned for him at all, Mitchell is all "now you listen to your Dad, young man!" - but then Lord Auchinleck, while strict, was no abusive FW.
On this particular occasion, Mitchell was in a bind as well: should he agree or disagree the Hannover Cousins were more dysfunctional than the Hohenzollern?
as opposed to the Henri de Catt Version, here Fritz doesn't use the indirect plural "they" or the anonymous "one".
Oh, Fritz definitely, even in the diary, refers to "my father" when talking about the worst parts of his upbringing to Catt. It's just that he also does the French passive via the impersonal on (which gets translated into English "they" for fluidity) for things that are *clearly* his father. And our thinking was that Catt might not do that, so comments on the upbringing that aren't in the diary but use on might be from Fritz rather than Catt.
So it doesn't surprise me that he uses "my father" when talking to Mitchell. He clearly does both. What interests me is that on this occasion, he balances out the criticism of FW with excuses and praise and criticism of his younger self. I would be curious if he does the "one" when he's solely being critical and the "my father" when he's going, "But it wasn't *that* bad! Could have been much worse!"
On this particular occasion, Mitchell was in a bind as well: should he agree or disagree the Hannover Cousins were more dysfunctional than the Hohenzollern?
"MEANWHILE, the latest news from the Silesian front..."
"MEANWHILE, the latest news from the Silesian front..."
Quite. Especially since Mitchell was in hot water with his bosses already. For lo, this happened.
1756: Mitchell arrives, makes the treaty with Fritz. The Diplomatic Revolution happens.
British reaction: How ungrateful of MT! (Because England was one of the few not going to war with her in the Austrian War of Succession.) But really, "does the Queen-Empress have anything other than her fair face to provide a reason why she should be a Darling of the British People?" (Quote not from Mitchell but from his pen pal in the British foreign Office.) Can Fritz take her and the French, Mitchell?
Mitchell: Fritz can take them. He's totally cool. I'm so impressed. Also, invading Saxony and drafting the Saxons into his army before they can be used against him? Genius. Wish there was less sacking of Saxon Palaces, that's not so cool, but otherwise: go Fritz!
1758: Look, Fritz is a miracle worker, but there's only so much one man can do. Damn, I wish we'd have Kings and PMs like him in England. How about more subsidies? Also, Fritz says his cousin the Duke of Cumberland, son of G2, sucks as a general.
Uncle G2: What. Pitt the Elder, currently switching with Newcastle as PM: What. Lord Holderness: Mitchell, old buddy, rephrase that or be afraid to be recalled! Mitchell: Naturally I never wanted to imply the only reason why Fritz the Genius might lose this war is lack of British support. I'd never say that. We're all very grateful here for his Majesty's government's generous support for his ally. Pitt the elder: How about I replace you as envoy with Yorke? Fritz: I want to keep Mitchell, Hannover Cousins!
Or, as Mitchell phrases it, in his journal, not in the dispatch, for one obvious reason:
I answered that I should leave his Majesty's presence with regret, but begged in the present circumstances that he would leave all personal considerations out of the question and think only of publick affairs; that wherever I was, and in whatever situation, I should not be less zealously attached to his interest. The King then replyed that he sent for me to concert what was proper to be done, as he found Mr. Yorke was already arrived at Hambourg and upon the road hither; that he was resolved to speak freely to Yorke, and to let me know that he would not be governed by Mr. Pitt. I refused, says he, being governed by Kings, and I will not be governed by him. Do you know, says he, Mr. Pitt's system? It is to humble France without hurting it or doing it any harm. This man, sure, cannot be a great politician. We then went to dinner, and I had no more private conversation.
Apparantly "I didn't listen to my Dad, and you, Pitt, are not my Dad!" did the trick, or Yorke didn't want to spend the 7 Years War on the front, but: Mitchell got to stay and even got promoted to minister-plenipotentiary. But he was suspected of having gone Prussian from that point onwards.
That's amazing, thank you so much. I had a vague idea about Mitchell but not this much detail.
Apparantly "I didn't listen to my Dad, and you, Pitt, are not my Dad!"
Haha, remember when we were developing the MT marriage AU, and I was imagining what would have happened if the Pope had tried giving orders to a nominally-Catholic Fritz, and I had Fritz saying exactly this?
But he was suspected of having gone Prussian from that point onwards.
Lol, that reminds me of Voltaire writing to Fritz that they call him Prussian in France (which is at war with Prussia) but he wears the insult as a badge of honor.
Thank you for the passage! It sounds like he talked to Mitchell quite a lot, really.
On this particular occasion, Mitchell was in a bind as well: should he agree or disagree the Hannover Cousins were more dysfunctional than the Hohenzollern?
HAHAHAHA. I suppose it would have been terribly impolitic to say, "You're both ALL CRAZY."
Not if he doesn't want to get replaced as envoy (see above).
I should say that most of the Fritz and Mitchell conversations reported in the dispatches and the journal are on military matters. Conversations like that about Fritz' youth are the exceptions, not the rule. Which is why Mitchell never was treasured a source as Henri de Catt was. But they really seem to have gotten along well, even after Fritz went off the Brits for not giving him money anymore. Also, it amuses me that all the English sources mention Fritz crying at his funeral as a big deal. I mean, for Victorian and current day British men, sure, but not for Rokoko guys. Fritz: crying over poetry and proud of it. Also not an exception in this. (This being said, the fact he went to the funeral, which he surely didn't do for cousin G3's sake, says a lot.)
Our Lehndorff, as mentioned elsewhere, likes Mitchell very much, too. In the second volume (aka all the bits 1906 editor cut out from the first), Mitchell shows up a lot, not just the two times he's mentioned in the first volume, and typical entries go:
I had the urgent wish to make friends with Mr. Mitchell, the English envoy. His personality, his conversation, his natural manners agree with me, but I let the first six weeks of his being here pass in order to give him time to settle in. Now I start to socialize with him, and I observe he seems to be receptive to the friendship I show him.
Remember, though, end of 1755/ first half of 1756 is Lehndorff's time with Hotham, learning English and hoping to make it across the pond. Two days later:
I participate in a nice dinner organized by Count Finck. Another guest is Mr. Mitchell who wins himself more and more friend with his integrity and sense of justice.
And just a few days before the famous Marwitz entry: From there, I go to my friend Mitchell, who has arrived from Dresden as well. (As well as Heinrich, whom Lehndorff naturally visited first.) He is as pleased to see me as I am to embrace him. He is a true Englishman* with all the virtues of this nation. It seems that he's fed up with the war he's currently experiencing at the King's side and would be glad to resume his work as ambassador in quiet Berlin.
We're still in 1756, mind. Seven more years to go. But Mitchell stays "my friend Mitchell". Before you ask, no, Lehndorff isn't mentioned in the dispatches and journal excerpts selected by Bisset. Which isn't surprising. It's 1850, no one knows who Lehndorff was, and even if they did, they'd hardly care about the Queen's chamberlain. Bisset's selection of Mitchell's papers is focused on the 7 Years War as the era of most interest to his British readers; there are only a few documents from the peace time aftewards (though Mitchell continued to live in Berlin until his death in the 1770s), because, says Bisset, a diplomat's work in peace time is boring to the reader.
*He's a Scot from Aberdeen, Lehndorff! I hope you didn't praise his Englishness too much in front of him.
Thank you for the Lehndorff excerpts. Connecting the dots and seeing the same events from different perspectives is one of the best parts of this fandom.
a diplomat's work in peace time is boring to the reader.
Readers of 1730 diplomats might disagree. :P
He's a Scot from Aberdeen, Lehndorff! I hope you didn't praise his Englishness too much in front of him.
Oh, boy. Scottish national identity was actually quite complicated in 1756! Chronology for cahn:
[Disclaimer: these are broad outlines; simplifications have been made.]
The biggest of the Jacobite rebellions, where a bunch of Stuart supporters, mostly but not exclusively Scottish, had tried to overthrow the King*, happened in 1745. The Jacobites had been crushingly defeated, and I mean crushingly. Markers of Scottish identity such as the kilt were banned, illegal to wear except in the British army. Scottishness was on the outs with the people in power. Plus, Charles Stuart was still wandering around Europe trying to drum up foreign support for another invasion. He wasn't getting much support ("lol" was the general reaction), but the Hanovers still had to keep half an eye on the situation.
* King George II, SD's brother, whose kids she wanted Fritz and Wilhelmine to marry.
The Scots themselves had been divided during the rebellion itself. Though most of Charles's support was Scottish, that doesn't mean most Scots supported him. There was significant overlap between his support and the Catholics (though that's been overstated). There was a large population of Scots that opposed him, and a nontrivial population of Scots who had actively fought in the British army against the Jacobites.
There was also a long-standing division between Highlanders and Lowlanders. Much of Charles Stuart's support came from the Highlanders, and more importantly, after the fact, the alignment between his supporters and Highlanders became overstated compared to what it had been in reality. Much of the governmental reprisal was aimed at Highlanders, not at Scots. However, the Lowlands, having had much more historical contact with England, especially along the borders, also had a flourishing anti-English tradition. But at the same time, with the English dominant and the Highlands being crushed, you get people deciding that "climb the ladder and pull it up after you" is the way to go, i.e. identify with the more powerful English and let the Scots go hang.
Come 1756, with a political situation like that, nationalist reactions are pretty much as you'd expect. You've got the people who are seething with resentment, the people who are willing to compromise with the powers that be, and people who are seeking to distance themselves from their Scottishness as much as possible. A lot of Scots, when traveling outside of Scotland, used the existing term "North Britain" to talk about where they were from. Like Americans who say they're from Canada when they're traveling.
Some decades later, after the Jacobite threat is gone and the Highlands have undergone massive depopulation (DON'T ASK), in the nineteenth century, romanticizing Scottishness becomes safe. The monarchs get into it and start emphasizing their Scottish heritage, our current clan tartans become a thing, and pretty much everything you think of when you think of Scotland today, including the Scottish tourist industry, becomes a thing.
In conclusion, some Scots in 1756 would have been quite happy to have their Englishness praised by Lehndorff. Some (hopefully not diplomats) would have punched him. :P
Mitchell is an interesting case, if he's a Lowlander, good friends with Jacobite James Keith, and working as an ambassador for the Hanoverian government. selenak, did you get a sense of how he feels about his Scottishness?
Bit of trivia for cahn, but DON'T ask me about the Jacobites: the guy who defeated them and kicked off a war-crime-ridden give-no-quarter "created a desert and called it peace" policy against the Highlands was the Duke of Cumberland, the son of G2 whom Fritz thought sucked as a general (and my impression from what I remember of his Continental battles is that he did; beating the Jacobites (DON'T ASK) was not a testament to any kind of tactical prowess). :P
Tangentially: 17th Century Scots in identity crisis
Re: Mitchell, Bisset says he was a dedicated Whig, which appears to be true as far as it goes, but then a) Bisset himself is one (remember, he snarks that ALL the Stuarts were worthless and never did anything making them worth fighting for other than tracing themselves back to Robert the Bruce), and b) most of those letters quoted in the two volumes are adressed to his English bosses whom he wants to be trusted by. He does quote Fritz' disdain for Cumberland with a certain dedication, though always without comments. ;)
This reminds me that Boswell, a generation younger, when being in London for a year at age 19 in 1762, i.e. only a few years later, who like Mitchell is a Lowland Scot, is eternally torn on this subject as well. On the one hand, he loves London, and tries all his life to make it his home, being depressed whenever he has to settle for Edinburgh. He is apologetic about being Scottish during that famous first meeting with Dr. Johnson, who had an anti-Scottish bias as a lot of English people did at the time, hence that first exchange: “Indeed I am from Scotland, but I cannot help it” “That, Sir, is what I find a great many of your countrymen cannot help”. And Boswell was absolutely and completely in love with London in particular and the idea of English greatness in general. But every now and then, English disdain for Scots was just too much for him, and we get scenes like this one in his diary:
Wednesday 8 December 1762: At night I went to Covent Gardin and saw Love in a Village, a new comic opera, for the first night. I liked it very much. I saw it from the gallery, but I was first in the pit. Just before the overture began to be played, two Highland officers came in. The mob in the upper gallery roared out, “No Scots! No Scots! Out with them!”, hissed and pelted them with apples. My heart warmed to my countrymen, my Scotch blood boiled with indignation. I jumped up on the benches, roared out, “Damn you, rascals!” hissed and was in the greatest rage. I am very sure at that time I should have been the most distinguished of heroes. I hated the English; I wished from my soul the Union was broke and that we might give them another battle of Bannockburn. I went close to the officers and asked them of what regiment they were of. They told me Lord John Murray’s, and that they were just come from the Havana. “And this,” said they, “is the thanks that we get – to be hissed when we come home. If it was French, what could they do worse?”
Boswell at 30 is similarly torn:
“Ogilvie then said Scotland had a great many noble wild prospects. “Sir,” said Johnson, “I believe you have a great many noble wild prospects. Norway too has some noble wild prospects; and Lapland is remarkable for prodigious noble wild prospects. But, Sir, I believe the noblest prospect that a Scotsman ever sees is the road which leads him to England!” We gave a roar of applause to this most excellent sally of strong humour. At the same time, I could not help thinking that Mr. Johnson showed a want of taste in laughing at the wild grandeur of nature. (…) Have I not experienced the full force of this when gazing at thee, O Arthur Seat, thou venerable mountain! Whether in the severity of winter thy brow has been covered with snow or wrapped in mist; or in the gentle mildness of summer the evening sun has shone upon thy verdant sides diversified with rugged moss-clad rocks. Beloved hill, the admiration of my youth! Thy noble image shall ever fill my mind!”
Given Boswell's father and Mitchell were friends, I venture to guess these mixed feelings might have been found in Mitchell as well.
Re: Tangentially: 17th Century Scots in identity crisis
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Saxon envoys
We have that exact sequence of events happening in Suhm's letter to his boss King Augustus. Reminder: it's October 1728, so two years before the escape attempt.
Suhm shows up at Wusterhausen, Fritz accosts him and starts telling him how terrible his life is, so emphatically that Suhm is flustered. Fritz says, "I say this to all my friends that I believe I can count on, in the hope that someone will get me out of this slavery in which I've been so cruelly placed." Actual quote, in direct discourse as reported by Suhm.
Suhm: I counseled patience and said that advertising his discontent just makes it harder for him to change the opinions he expresses so that his father is pleased with him, and that demonstrating his love for his father will lead to his father treating him better.
Fritz: I'VE TRIED THAT! Nothing works. Nothing moves him. Please, let your king have pity on me and intervene so that I can travel. I'll go anywhere he wants, just to be able to live more freely.
Suhm: That's not so easy to do, and the more you make it known that you want to get out of here, the harder your father's going to make it.
They get interrupted.
Fritz: *won't stop begging for someone to have pity on him and the state he's in*
Suhm: *does not stop explaining how making his opinions more acceptable to his father is the way to go*
Yes, literally, "il me réitéra sans cesse la prière," "he repeated his prayer ceaselessly to me," and "je ne cessay," "I did not stop."
And thus, when 1730 rolls around, Fritz has already tried to escape at least once (November 1729), with Peter, who's sent away to Wesel in January 1730, and by August, everyone in charge of Fritz knows to keep an eye on him, which makes his well-advertised escape plan even more likely to fail.
And then, in the next paragraph, Fritz is forced by Dad to get drunk! Avec une grande répugnance! And it causes him to start complaining about his treatment in one breath and reiterate in the next how much he loves Dad. And then want hugs and kisses.
And then people don't even believe it's real.
SMH.
Also, from reading the French, it appears that I mis-parsed the German: it's not that Fritz told Suhm the next day that he had hated getting drunk; he told him at the time that he hated drinking so much and was sure that he'd be really sick the next day. So my morning-after hurt/comfort headcanon is an AU. Bloody hell, can't the boy get some hurt/comfort instead of hurt/"have you tried appeasing your abuser better?" I know everyone means well and has limited options, but, you know, we're still telling abuse victims/bullied kids that today.
And before anyone wonders if maybe Suhm got to comfort Fritz the next day anyway, well...if I'm reading the letters correctly, Suhm arrives in Wusterhausen on the 17th, the drinking episode took place on the 19th, and Suhm is back in Berlin on the 20th.
Well. I knew Fritz was telling everyone about his desire to get out of there as a cry for help and a hope someone else would rescue him, without him having to figure out his own escape plan, and I knew that no one did, but seeing it spelled out like that is so painful.
Ugh.
On a more cheerful note, Koser has a bit on the four reasons Manteuffel thought Fritz liked him, which I ran across when looking for Suhm:
Wenn der Kronprinz ihm sein Vertrauen schenkte, so geschah es, wie Manteuffel annahm, „aus vier Gründen": erstens vermöge seines ungewöhn lichen Triebes, sich zu unterrichten, zweitens aus etwas guter Meinung für Manteuffel, drittens in der Voraussetzung, daß derselbe ein unabhängiger und uninteressierter alter Mann sei, und endlich, weil dieser alte Mann nie im Lehrton zu ihm sprach.
My interpretation of this, please correct any mistakes:
1) Manteuffel's unusual drive to teach himself.
2) A good opinion of Manteuffel.
3) He was an independent and disinterested old man. (I still wonder when the scales fell from Fritz's eyes.)
4) He never lectured Fritz.
I'm sure (4) was key!
Looking for Manteuffel mentions in the Suhm correspondence, I found one.
There have been new harassments these past days. It all comes from a jealousy that Bredow has against Wolden. The first found a way to insinuate to the King that I was a man without religion, that Manteuffel and you had contributed a lot to pervert me, and that Wolden was a madman who was the buffoon with us, and who was my favorite. You know that the charge of irreligion is the last refuge of the slanderers, and that, having said that, there is nothing more to say. The King caught fire, I held myself tight, my regiment worked wonders, and the handling of arms, a little flour thrown on the heads of soldiers, men over six feet, and many recruits, were stronger arguments than those of my slanderers. Everything is quiet now, and there is no longer talk of religion, of Wolden, of my persecutors, or of my regiment.
So one, FW thinks Manteuffel and Suhm have perverted ("pervertir") Fritz, presumably because they all like Wolff, and FW won't like Wolff for two more years. Two, when you're accused of irreligion, what do you do? Spruce up your regiment, make sure you meet quotas, and above all, those men over six feet! Strongest arguments you can get.
Hamilton tells me that Manteuffel had an unusually disappointing 1740:
It is painful to know that Manteuffel was waiting eagerly for Suhm's arrival and counting on his being appointed successor to Thulemeier, the Minister of State (who died August 4th 1740), expecting, as a matter of course, that through him he himself and his Dresden employers would at once be put in possession of the deepest secrets of the Prussian government, more directly and much more accurately than they could get them from any subordinate.
Suhm dies November 8 without ever making it, and Manteuffel gets kicked out of Prussia sometime in November, shortly before the Silesian invasion. Now there's someone who didn't foresee Frederick the Great--Manteuffel!
The question of whether Suhm would have been allowed to play a political role is an interesting one. You'd think! And yet Fritz's letter to him after becoming king asks whether he wants to give up being a minister in order to lead the reflective life of a sage, and if he can find something in Fritz's company that compensates him for politics.
Interestingly, that does support my idea that Fritz would have relegated Katte to an artistic/intellectual role. With luck, Katte would have taken that well and it would have been good for their relationship with less potential for conflict than a military and/or political role. Headcanon, anyway! (I still hope he's ready to be micromanaged.)
Re: Saxon envoys
Manteuffel: you translated correctly.
Re: Saxon envoys
Also, at this point Fritz isn't asking for help with a secret escape plan. He's asking Suhm to ask August to try harder to get FW to *let* him go to Dresden or Warsaw or St. Petersburg or China or wherever that isn't Wusterhausen. Which is something August will try later, at Zeithain in June 1730, and FW will give the famous response: "Yes--if there's a war on."
Again: might not be politically feasible for August to push too hard. But there are better ways of communicating that to 16-yo Fritz. And honest to god, I think there are better ways of asking him to cooperate more with his father for his own ends.
I know that I wouldn't have known any better ways in the 18th century either. There was no internet and no psychology section in the bookstore. And I know Suhm was totally put on the spot there. But the fact remains that, while I don't blame Suhm any more than I blame anyone else who wanted to help but couldn't figure out a more effective way of doing it...the effect on Fritz of all these messages he was getting was still profoundly psychologically damaging.
FTR: I do not consider it anyone's job to rescue someone else's abused kid at their own expense. I myself am not rescuing any abused kids, including ones closely related to me. It's just seeing Suhm inadvertently reinforce the wrong message that's painful. But I forgive him, because I know if he could have figured out a better way, he would have done it.
This is October 1728, so 9 months after the January Dresden visit.
Re: Saxon envoys
Oh absolutely. Incidentally, in the passage of Mitchell's journal where he mentions Küstrin, he also talks about the FW method of child raising in general and it's worth noting that as opposed to the Henri de Catt Version, here Fritz doesn't use the indirect plural "they" or the anonymous "one".
He appeared to me to be extremely affected with the death of the Queen Mother—complained that his misfortunes came too thick to be borne; he then was pleased to tell me a great deal of the private history of his family; of the manner in which he had been educated, owning at the same time the loss he felt for the want of proper education, blaming his father, but with great candour and gentleness, and acknowledging that in his youth he had been bien étourdi, and deserved his father's indignation, which, however, the late King, from the impetuosity of his temper, had carried too far. He told me that by his mother's persuasion and that of his sister of Bayreuth, he had given a writing under his hand, declaring that he never would marry any other person but the Princess Amelia of England; that this was wrong, and provoked his father. He said he could not excuse it, but from his youth and want of experience; that his promise unhappily was discovered, the late Queen Caroline, to whom it was sent, having shown or spoke of it to General Diemar. He had betrayed the secret to Seckendorff, who told it to the King of Prussia; upon this discovery, and his scheme of making his escape, his misfortunes followed. He told me, with regard to making his escape, that he had long been unhappy and harshly used by his father, but what made him resolve upon it was, that one day his father struck him, and pulled him by the hair, and in this dishevelled condition he was obliged to pass the parade, that from that moment he had resolved, coute qui coute, to venture it.
That during his imprisonment at * ** he had been treated in the harshest manner; brought to the window to see * * * beheaded; that he fainted away. That [Katt] might have made his escape and saved himself, the Danish minister having given him notice, but he loitered, he believed, on account of some girl he was fond of.
He said the happiest years of his life were those he spent at * * * a house he has given to his brother Prince Henry. There he retired after his imprisonment, and remained till the death of the late King. His chief amusement was study, and making up for the want of education by reading, making extracts, and conversing with sensible people and men of taste that were then about him. He talked much of the obligations he had to the Queen Mother, and of his affection to his sister the Margravine of Bayreuth, with whom he had been bred. He observed that the harmony that had been maintained in his family was greatly owing to the education they had had, imperfect and defective in many things, but good in this, that all the children had been brought up, not as princes, but as the children of private persons. He mentioned the differences there had been between their family and that of Hanover, and spoke of the late King's testament, but with great moderation.
Mitchell does not comment on this in his journal, either, he goes on noting down military news. Ingeneral, he comes across as believing in paternal authority - when Boswell shows up on the Grand Tour and doesn't want what Mitchell's friend, Boswell's Dad has planned for him at all, Mitchell is all "now you listen to your Dad, young man!" - but then Lord Auchinleck, while strict, was no abusive FW.
On this particular occasion, Mitchell was in a bind as well: should he agree or disagree the Hannover Cousins were more dysfunctional than the Hohenzollern?
Re: Saxon envoys
Oh, Fritz definitely, even in the diary, refers to "my father" when talking about the worst parts of his upbringing to Catt. It's just that he also does the French passive via the impersonal on (which gets translated into English "they" for fluidity) for things that are *clearly* his father. And our thinking was that Catt might not do that, so comments on the upbringing that aren't in the diary but use on might be from Fritz rather than Catt.
So it doesn't surprise me that he uses "my father" when talking to Mitchell. He clearly does both. What interests me is that on this occasion, he balances out the criticism of FW with excuses and praise and criticism of his younger self. I would be curious if he does the "one" when he's solely being critical and the "my father" when he's going, "But it wasn't *that* bad! Could have been much worse!"
On this particular occasion, Mitchell was in a bind as well: should he agree or disagree the Hannover Cousins were more dysfunctional than the Hohenzollern?
"MEANWHILE, the latest news from the Silesian front..."
Re: Saxon envoys
Quite. Especially since Mitchell was in hot water with his bosses already. For lo, this happened.
1756: Mitchell arrives, makes the treaty with Fritz. The Diplomatic Revolution happens.
British reaction: How ungrateful of MT! (Because England was one of the few not going to war with her in the Austrian War of Succession.) But really, "does the Queen-Empress have anything other than her fair face to provide a reason why she should be a Darling of the British People?" (Quote not from Mitchell but from his pen pal in the British foreign Office.) Can Fritz take her and the French, Mitchell?
Mitchell: Fritz can take them. He's totally cool. I'm so impressed. Also, invading Saxony and drafting the Saxons into his army before they can be used against him? Genius. Wish there was less sacking of Saxon Palaces, that's not so cool, but otherwise: go Fritz!
1757: OMG, we're talking total genius here! OMG Roßbach! OMG Leuthen! *sideeyes younger bros*
Fritzmania in England: explodes
1758: Look, Fritz is a miracle worker, but there's only so much one man can do. Damn, I wish we'd have Kings and PMs like him in England. How about more subsidies? Also, Fritz says his cousin the Duke of Cumberland, son of G2, sucks as a general.
Uncle G2: What.
Pitt the Elder, currently switching with Newcastle as PM: What.
Lord Holderness: Mitchell, old buddy, rephrase that or be afraid to be recalled!
Mitchell: Naturally I never wanted to imply the only reason why Fritz the Genius might lose this war is lack of British support. I'd never say that. We're all very grateful here for his Majesty's government's generous support for his ally.
Pitt the elder: How about I replace you as envoy with Yorke?
Fritz: I want to keep Mitchell, Hannover Cousins!
Or, as Mitchell phrases it, in his journal, not in the dispatch, for one obvious reason:
I answered that I should leave his Majesty's presence with regret, but begged in the present circumstances that he would leave all personal considerations out of the question and think only of publick affairs; that wherever I was, and in whatever situation, I should not be less zealously attached to his interest. The King then replyed that he sent for me to concert what was proper to be done, as he found Mr. Yorke was already arrived at Hambourg and upon the road hither; that he was resolved to speak freely to Yorke, and to let me know that he would not be governed by Mr. Pitt.
I refused, says he, being governed by Kings, and I will not be governed by him. Do you know, says he, Mr. Pitt's system? It is to humble France without hurting it or doing it any harm. This man, sure, cannot be a great politician. We then went to dinner, and I had no more private conversation.
Apparantly "I didn't listen to my Dad, and you, Pitt, are not my Dad!" did the trick, or Yorke didn't want to spend the 7 Years War on the front, but: Mitchell got to stay and even got promoted to minister-plenipotentiary. But he was suspected of having gone Prussian from that point onwards.
Re: Saxon envoys
Apparantly "I didn't listen to my Dad, and you, Pitt, are not my Dad!"
Haha, remember when we were developing the MT marriage AU, and I was imagining what would have happened if the Pope had tried giving orders to a nominally-Catholic Fritz, and I had Fritz saying exactly this?
But he was suspected of having gone Prussian from that point onwards.
Lol, that reminds me of Voltaire writing to Fritz that they call him Prussian in France (which is at war with Prussia) but he wears the insult as a badge of honor.
Re: Saxon envoys
On this particular occasion, Mitchell was in a bind as well: should he agree or disagree the Hannover Cousins were more dysfunctional than the Hohenzollern?
HAHAHAHA. I suppose it would have been terribly impolitic to say, "You're both ALL CRAZY."
Re: Saxon envoys
I should say that most of the Fritz and Mitchell conversations reported in the dispatches and the journal are on military matters. Conversations like that about Fritz' youth are the exceptions, not the rule. Which is why Mitchell never was treasured a source as Henri de Catt was. But they really seem to have gotten along well, even after Fritz went off the Brits for not giving him money anymore. Also, it amuses me that all the English sources mention Fritz crying at his funeral as a big deal. I mean, for Victorian and current day British men, sure, but not for Rokoko guys. Fritz: crying over poetry and proud of it. Also not an exception in this. (This being said, the fact he went to the funeral, which he surely didn't do for cousin G3's sake, says a lot.)
Our Lehndorff, as mentioned elsewhere, likes Mitchell very much, too. In the second volume (aka all the bits 1906 editor cut out from the first), Mitchell shows up a lot, not just the two times he's mentioned in the first volume, and typical entries go:
I had the urgent wish to make friends with Mr. Mitchell, the English envoy. His personality, his conversation, his natural manners agree with me, but I let the first six weeks of his being here pass in order to give him time to settle in. Now I start to socialize with him, and I observe he seems to be receptive to the friendship I show him.
Remember, though, end of 1755/ first half of 1756 is Lehndorff's time with Hotham, learning English and hoping to make it across the pond. Two days later:
I participate in a nice dinner organized by Count Finck. Another guest is Mr. Mitchell who wins himself more and more friend with his integrity and sense of justice.
And just a few days before the famous Marwitz entry: From there, I go to my friend Mitchell, who has arrived from Dresden as well. (As well as Heinrich, whom Lehndorff naturally visited first.) He is as pleased to see me as I am to embrace him. He is a true Englishman* with all the virtues of this nation. It seems that he's fed up with the war he's currently experiencing at the King's side and would be glad to resume his work as ambassador in quiet Berlin.
We're still in 1756, mind. Seven more years to go. But Mitchell stays "my friend Mitchell". Before you ask, no, Lehndorff isn't mentioned in the dispatches and journal excerpts selected by Bisset. Which isn't surprising. It's 1850, no one knows who Lehndorff was, and even if they did, they'd hardly care about the Queen's chamberlain. Bisset's selection of Mitchell's papers is focused on the 7 Years War as the era of most interest to his British readers; there are only a few documents from the peace time aftewards (though Mitchell continued to live in Berlin until his death in the 1770s), because, says Bisset, a diplomat's work in peace time is boring to the reader.
*He's a Scot from Aberdeen, Lehndorff! I hope you didn't praise his Englishness too much in front of him.
Re: Saxon envoys
a diplomat's work in peace time is boring to the reader.
Readers of 1730 diplomats might disagree. :P
He's a Scot from Aberdeen, Lehndorff! I hope you didn't praise his Englishness too much in front of him.
Oh, boy. Scottish national identity was actually quite complicated in 1756! Chronology for
[Disclaimer: these are broad outlines; simplifications have been made.]
The biggest of the Jacobite rebellions, where a bunch of Stuart supporters, mostly but not exclusively Scottish, had tried to overthrow the King*, happened in 1745. The Jacobites had been crushingly defeated, and I mean crushingly. Markers of Scottish identity such as the kilt were banned, illegal to wear except in the British army. Scottishness was on the outs with the people in power. Plus, Charles Stuart was still wandering around Europe trying to drum up foreign support for another invasion. He wasn't getting much support ("lol" was the general reaction), but the Hanovers still had to keep half an eye on the situation.
* King George II, SD's brother, whose kids she wanted Fritz and Wilhelmine to marry.
The Scots themselves had been divided during the rebellion itself. Though most of Charles's support was Scottish, that doesn't mean most Scots supported him. There was significant overlap between his support and the Catholics (though that's been overstated). There was a large population of Scots that opposed him, and a nontrivial population of Scots who had actively fought in the British army against the Jacobites.
There was also a long-standing division between Highlanders and Lowlanders. Much of Charles Stuart's support came from the Highlanders, and more importantly, after the fact, the alignment between his supporters and Highlanders became overstated compared to what it had been in reality. Much of the governmental reprisal was aimed at Highlanders, not at Scots. However, the Lowlands, having had much more historical contact with England, especially along the borders, also had a flourishing anti-English tradition. But at the same time, with the English dominant and the Highlands being crushed, you get people deciding that "climb the ladder and pull it up after you" is the way to go, i.e. identify with the more powerful English and let the Scots go hang.
Come 1756, with a political situation like that, nationalist reactions are pretty much as you'd expect. You've got the people who are seething with resentment, the people who are willing to compromise with the powers that be, and people who are seeking to distance themselves from their Scottishness as much as possible. A lot of Scots, when traveling outside of Scotland, used the existing term "North Britain" to talk about where they were from. Like Americans who say they're from Canada when they're traveling.
Some decades later, after the Jacobite threat is gone and the Highlands have undergone massive depopulation (DON'T ASK), in the nineteenth century, romanticizing Scottishness becomes safe. The monarchs get into it and start emphasizing their Scottish heritage, our current clan tartans become a thing, and pretty much everything you think of when you think of Scotland today, including the Scottish tourist industry, becomes a thing.
In conclusion, some Scots in 1756 would have been quite happy to have their Englishness praised by Lehndorff. Some (hopefully not diplomats) would have punched him. :P
Mitchell is an interesting case, if he's a Lowlander, good friends with Jacobite James Keith, and working as an ambassador for the Hanoverian government.
Bit of trivia for
Tangentially: 17th Century Scots in identity crisis
This reminds me that Boswell, a generation younger, when being in London for a year at age 19 in 1762, i.e. only a few years later, who like Mitchell is a Lowland Scot, is eternally torn on this subject as well. On the one hand, he loves London, and tries all his life to make it his home, being depressed whenever he has to settle for Edinburgh. He is apologetic about being Scottish during that famous first meeting with Dr. Johnson, who had an anti-Scottish bias as a lot of English people did at the time, hence that first exchange: “Indeed I am from Scotland, but I cannot help it” “That, Sir, is what I find a great many of your countrymen cannot help”. And Boswell was absolutely and completely in love with London in particular and the idea of English greatness in general. But every now and then, English disdain for Scots was just too much for him, and we get scenes like this one in his diary:
Wednesday 8 December 1762: At night I went to Covent Gardin and saw Love in a Village, a new comic opera, for the first night. I liked it very much. I saw it from the gallery, but I was first in the pit. Just before the overture began to be played, two Highland officers came in. The mob in the upper gallery roared out, “No Scots! No Scots! Out with them!”, hissed and pelted them with apples. My heart warmed to my countrymen, my Scotch blood boiled with indignation. I jumped up on the benches, roared out, “Damn you, rascals!” hissed and was in the greatest rage. I am very sure at that time I should have been the most distinguished of heroes. I hated the English; I wished from my soul the Union was broke and that we might give them another battle of Bannockburn. I went close to the officers and asked them of what regiment they were of. They told me Lord John Murray’s, and that they were just come from the Havana. “And this,” said they, “is the thanks that we get – to be hissed when we come home. If it was French, what could they do worse?”
Boswell at 30 is similarly torn:
“Ogilvie then said Scotland had a great many noble wild prospects. “Sir,” said Johnson, “I believe you have a great many noble wild prospects. Norway too has some noble wild prospects; and Lapland is remarkable for prodigious noble wild prospects. But, Sir, I believe the noblest prospect that a Scotsman ever sees is the road which leads him to England!”
We gave a roar of applause to this most excellent sally of strong humour. At the same time, I could not help thinking that Mr. Johnson showed a want of taste in laughing at the wild grandeur of nature. (…) Have I not experienced the full force of this when gazing at thee, O Arthur Seat, thou venerable mountain! Whether in the severity of winter thy brow has been covered with snow or wrapped in mist; or in the gentle mildness of summer the evening sun has shone upon thy verdant sides diversified with rugged moss-clad rocks. Beloved hill, the admiration of my youth! Thy noble image shall ever fill my mind!”
Given Boswell's father and Mitchell were friends, I venture to guess these mixed feelings might have been found in Mitchell as well.
Re: Tangentially: 17th Century Scots in identity crisis