I'm just imagining Lehndorff finding out that totally unrelated people in the twenty-first century are reading and adoring his diaries! Would he be pleased or freaked out about that? I imagine a little of both?
The relationship with Heinrich ended in 1791 when Tauentzien switched from Heinrich's to FW2's personal entourage. (Chronology reminder:
Ahahaha. And here I had just replied to your earlier comment that Lehndorff, our sweetie, wouldn't suck up to the person with power over his beloved Heinrich. See, Heinrich, if you weren't so psychologically damaged you could have fallen for someone who truly and demonstrably cared about you! (Though I guess the count seems to have been better, so at least he had someone nice at the end, and I also suppose that Lehndorff may just not have been witty enough to be that person even if he was the nicest of all. One loves what one loves.)
I'd forgotten he was the boyfriend that made Heinrich watch the play with his brother! Heinrich really did pick the jerks, didn't he.
...are there other good stories from the Comte's wife about the Comte and Heinrich?
So he must have felt an attachment of whatever nature, and one that lasted through a life time, too
And that's true, too! My headcanon (do you think that if we all spammed Zeibura that she would tell us something about those letters? :) ) is that Heinrich couldn't ever really fall sexually for Lehndorff in the sense of finding him madly attractive unless he bodyswapped with Fontane but that he did really like him, perhaps found him relaxing (unlike his actual boyfriends!), and was happy to be friends (and occasionally friends-with-benefits) with him. In any case, I am glad that they had each other <3
And yet, he's still as passionately in love as that.
Tauenzien: Fontane expresses the hope that he and Heinrich parted amiably in 1791 and names as an argument that there was still a portrait and a bust of Tauenzien in Rheinsberg - as there was of Antoine Charles Étienne Paul de La Roche-Aymon, the last lover - which Fontane doubts there would have been if Tauentzien just said, cheerio, Heinrich, better prospects beckoning! And in fairness: Tauenzien was a young man, military gifted, who should (and did) have a good career ahead of him, Heinrich had seen what happens when the King doesn't like your favourites (as Lehndorff says, he could sing a song), so when FW2 offered the switch, he might even have said, go ahead, do it. It was a far better ending than what happened to Kaphengst. Or the breakup with Kalkreuth, for while Kalkreuth did go on to have a good career thereafter, the breakup itself was poisonous (remember, this included a desperate Kalkreuth trying to compromise Mina as a way to win back Heinrich's favour).
All this being said, it's still a big contrast to the Comte, because De La Roche-Aymon also went on to have a splendid military career - he earned the Pour Le Merite (aka the medal Fritz had introduced which could be won regardless of social background, whereas the Black Eagle only went to noble folk) for his exceptionally bravery in 1807, i.e. years after Heinrich's death, he left the Prussian Military in order to return to the French Royal one after Napoleon's first defeat in the rank of Generalmajor, and later became a member of the Chambre de Pairs and the Commander of the Legion d'Honnneur in Restauration France. But he still remained with Heinrich until his death, and only then left.
...are there other good stories from the Comte's wife about the Comte and Heinrich?
Not beyond some general characterisation, because the anecdotes that have made it into the Wanderungen at least are about herself. (I'll get to that.) Here's how she said the Comte joined Heinrich's circle, as written by Fontane in the Rheinsberg chapters of "Wanderungen":
In 1794 a young, six-foot-tall officer of the darkest color and poorest clothing appeared in Rheinsberg and submitted a letter of recommendation to "Demoiselle Aurore," the actress of the princely court theater already mentioned. The letter contained a request to bring the bearer, the young count La Roche-Aymon, near the prince at an suitable opportunity. Demoiselle Aurore was a real French woman, lively and kind, but also a royalist and inclined to adventure; So she financed a suitable equipment from her own resources, and before a week had passed, the count was in the prince's service. He moved into an apartment in the cavalier's house and took over the command of the forty Leibhusars, who, as more than mentioned, were in Garrison at Rheinsberg as a special Prinz-Heinrichian troop. A short time later he became an adjutant to the prince. Beautiful, agile, amiable, a cavalier in the best sense of the word, he soon entered into a position of trust, and moreover a heartfelt relationship with the prince, which he had not known since Tauenzien. The count appeared to him as a gift from heaven, the evening of his life had come, but lo and behold, the sun before it departed lent him a ray of her happy light again. Count La Roche-Aymon was the Prince's last aide.
Incidentally, also worth exploring: Heinrich's actors at Rheinsberg. There's the tragic one, Blainville, who committed suicide, true, but most seem to have been glad to have found a place to stay, especially when less and less people in Germany wanted to see French plays in French, and going back to revolutionary France wasn't really an option for most of them. One actress, Maria Louise Therese Toussaint, was the daughter of Heinrich's reader and librarian (who is mentioned in Lehndorff's diary entry as reading to him and Heinrich about India while they paint), and had the dubious joy of becoming Mrs. Kaphengst in her second marriage. She'd first been married to a Sieur de Bilguer and become widowed. Speaking of portraits - as she outlived her husband by far - according to Fontane, she, like the Comtesse, made into the second half of the 19th century - she still owned one of Heinrich when she died. Not so much of her husband. Which would argue Mrs. Kaphengst, formerly actress Toussaint, did retain a fond memory of her royal patron. Meanwhile, Demoiselle Aurore still was praised by the Rheinsberg countryside people decades later, too, so Fontane's characterisation of her seems to fit, and one can imagine her taking a look at that handsome young Frenchman in distress and thinking "I know!"
Now, about the Comtesse, who was born Karoline Amalie von Zeuner, lady-in-waiting to one of FW2's daughters. (Fontane says "Princess Wilhelmine", but it can't be Wilhelmine Minor the daughter of AW and sister to FW2, since she was ruling the Netherlands at that point, so this must have been yet another Wilhelmine.) The Comte met her in Berlin in 1795 on the occasion of the Peace of Basel (aka when the allied powers recognized Revolutionary France as a state in its own right and stopped trying to restore the monarchy by invading) and married her; she returned to Rheinsberg with him and became the lady of the manor, much as poor doomed young Mrs. Tauenzien (born Elisabeth von Marschall but named Lisette by Heinrich, according to Fontane) had been. She was a blonde with hair that went to her knees (remember, this was the age where wigs were going out of fashion, another change wrought by the French Revolution) and nicknamed "Princess Golden Hair" accordingly, and between being decades older than the Comte and used to his favourites being married by then, Heinrich was charmed and liked her a lot, too. (Fontane, who met her in her old age when she was an excentric old lady who liked bossing people around still believes that, as he says she was witty, engaging and unabashedly brave. (WHen one of Napoleon III.'s faves showed up to take the estate which Heinrich had left to the Comte and her into his posseession by some legalese twisting, she just laughed at him and send him on his merry way, and despite having technically the law on his side, he caved.) She also liked to cook (as in, personally, not by setting up a menu), which was indeed very excentric for a young noblewoman in the 1790s and was seen contributing to her charm as an original.
There was one dramatic invent interrupting this idyll, which was when Heinrich's favourite nephew, Prince Louis Ferdinand went from flirting with the Comtesse to making an unmistakable pass. (Louis: son of brother Ferdinand, would inherit Rheinsberg itself from Heinrich but would die young, in battle against Napoleon in 1806. He was killed by one Jean-Baptise Guindey in personal combat, who got a medal for this but not a promotion, as Napeoleon observed a captured and alive Prince would have been preferable.) Fontane leaves it open how far things went between Louis and the Comtesse, but the Comte callenged Louis to a duel, whereupon Heinrich talked them both down and gave them a "duel = dumb", and "no matter which of you dies, both your reputations would be ruined by such a deed" speech. No duel happened, but things between the Comte and the Comtesse were never quite the same thereafter, and once he returned to France, they lived in separate households. Ototh things between both of them and Heinrich remained harmonious. De La Roche-Aymon wrote military analytical works through his remaining years with Heinrich before resuming his career post Heinrich's death. Writes Fontane:
The Count's critical-military work aroused the interest of his friend and benefactor even more than before, who took part in it in many ways and in the most thorough manner. This friendship lasted until the death of the prince, who wrote the following words down a few months before his death in his Dernières dispositions: »I want to express my gratitude to Count La Roche-Aymon for the tender affection he has given me through all the time when I was fortunate enough to have him near me,” and as is otherwise evident from almost every paragraph of these Dernières dispositions, that the count was the prince's most trustworthy person, the one closest to his heart (in his final years). The prince had chosen it correctly. According to the testimony of all those who knew him, Count La Roche-Aymon combined three chivalrous virtues in an excellent way: courage, loyalty to duty and childlike kindness.
As for the Comtesse, this is the end of Fontane's Rheinsberg chapters:
The Countess, and with that we conclude, was a proud, self-confident woman. She represented the refinement of a time now buried, a refinement that, under certain circumstances, abstracted from the mind and could put its essence into a masterful treatment of the forms. These forms were of the most engaging kind in the Countess, and their appearance corresponded to the judgment I once heard about her: "free, tactful and original at the same time". Ruling and maintaining a large household were her two passions. The more carriages held in the yard, the more comfortable her heart became, and the more lights were on in the house, the brighter sparks sparked her spirit and good mood. Thrifty otherwise and a woman whose account books had to be correct did not scare her from any sacrifice in this regard, the thought hardly touched her that it was a a sacrifice. After the custom of the time when she was young, it looked like a Noah's ark at her home, and from cockatoo down to canaries and squirrels, pretty much everything was found in her rooms. Cats and dogs were, of course, her favorites and were allowed to do anything; an arriving visitor was usually embarrassed where to take a seat, if they could find a free one at all. But with the appearance of the old Countess, everything was immediately forgotten, the disorder no longer mattered, and what had been a nuisance until then became a characteristic ornament. Her speech never stopped, and if Rheinsberg or even "the prince" became the subject of conversation, the hours passed quickly, for herself and for others.
Her death was like her life and had the same Rococo character, as the sofa on which she died or the snuff box that stood in front of her. Her favorite cat, it was said, bit her lip. From this she died (or soon after) in the eighty-ninth year, May 18, 1859.
The last representative of the Prince Heinrich period was buried with her.
I giggled! (I also giggled when you first excerpted that.)
The count appeared to him as a gift from heaven, the evening of his life had come, but lo and behold, the sun before it departed lent him a ray of her happy light again.
I know you've quoted this before, but: awwwwww <333333
one can imagine her taking a look at that handsome young Frenchman in distress and thinking "I know!"
Ha! That is a very cute story. Go Demoiselle Aurore!
WHen one of Napoleon III.'s faves showed up to take the estate which Heinrich had left to the Comte and her into his posseession by some legalese twisting, she just laughed at him and send him on his merry way, and despite having technically the law on his side, he caved.
This is a great story too. She is awesome! And I loved Fontane's last epitaph on her. <3 (Fontane is so cool!)
whereupon Heinrich talked them both down and gave them a "duel = dumb", and "no matter which of you dies, both your reputations would be ruined by such a deed" speech.
He really is, and I am sad not much of his stuff is available in English. Here are two neat articles, though, which at least give you an overview about what there is:
Thank you! That's very useful. It looks like several of the books in the articles are in easily-available Penguin editions (bless you, Penguin!) -- so -- hmm! :)
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Re: The Lehndorff Report: 1784
The relationship with Heinrich ended in 1791 when Tauentzien switched from Heinrich's to FW2's personal entourage. (Chronology reminder:
Ahahaha. And here I had just replied to your earlier comment that Lehndorff, our sweetie, wouldn't suck up to the person with power over his beloved Heinrich. See, Heinrich, if you weren't so psychologically damaged you could have fallen for someone who truly and demonstrably cared about you! (Though I guess the count seems to have been better, so at least he had someone nice at the end, and I also suppose that Lehndorff may just not have been witty enough to be that person even if he was the nicest of all. One loves what one loves.)
I'd forgotten he was the boyfriend that made Heinrich watch the play with his brother! Heinrich really did pick the jerks, didn't he.
...are there other good stories from the Comte's wife about the Comte and Heinrich?
So he must have felt an attachment of whatever nature, and one that lasted through a life time, too
And that's true, too! My headcanon (do you think that if we all spammed Zeibura that she would tell us something about those letters? :) ) is that Heinrich couldn't ever really fall sexually for Lehndorff in the sense of finding him madly attractive
unless he bodyswapped with Fontanebut that he did really like him, perhaps found him relaxing (unlike his actual boyfriends!), and was happy to be friends (and occasionally friends-with-benefits) with him. In any case, I am glad that they had each other <3And yet, he's still as passionately in love as that.
<3333333
Re: The Lehndorff Report: 1784
All this being said, it's still a big contrast to the Comte, because De La Roche-Aymon also went on to have a splendid military career - he earned the Pour Le Merite (aka the medal Fritz had introduced which could be won regardless of social background, whereas the Black Eagle only went to noble folk) for his exceptionally bravery in 1807, i.e. years after Heinrich's death, he left the Prussian Military in order to return to the French Royal one after Napoleon's first defeat in the rank of Generalmajor, and later became a member of the Chambre de Pairs and the Commander of the Legion d'Honnneur in Restauration France. But he still remained with Heinrich until his death, and only then left.
...are there other good stories from the Comte's wife about the Comte and Heinrich?
Not beyond some general characterisation, because the anecdotes that have made it into the Wanderungen at least are about herself. (I'll get to that.) Here's how she said the Comte joined Heinrich's circle, as written by Fontane in the Rheinsberg chapters of "Wanderungen":
In 1794 a young, six-foot-tall officer of the darkest color and poorest clothing appeared in Rheinsberg and submitted a letter of recommendation to "Demoiselle Aurore," the actress of the princely court theater already mentioned. The letter contained a request to bring the bearer, the young count La Roche-Aymon, near the prince at an suitable opportunity. Demoiselle Aurore was a real French woman, lively and kind, but also a royalist and inclined to adventure; So she financed a suitable equipment from her own resources, and before a week had passed, the count was in the prince's service. He moved into an apartment in the cavalier's house and took over the command of the forty Leibhusars, who, as more than mentioned, were in Garrison at Rheinsberg as a special Prinz-Heinrichian troop. A short time later he became an adjutant to the prince. Beautiful, agile, amiable, a cavalier in the best sense of the word, he soon entered into a position of trust, and moreover a heartfelt relationship with the prince, which he had not known since Tauenzien. The count appeared to him as a gift from heaven, the evening of his life had come, but lo and behold, the sun before it departed lent him a ray of her happy light again. Count La Roche-Aymon was the Prince's last aide.
Incidentally, also worth exploring: Heinrich's actors at Rheinsberg. There's the tragic one, Blainville, who committed suicide, true, but most seem to have been glad to have found a place to stay, especially when less and less people in Germany wanted to see French plays in French, and going back to revolutionary France wasn't really an option for most of them. One actress, Maria Louise Therese Toussaint, was the daughter of Heinrich's reader and librarian (who is mentioned in Lehndorff's diary entry as reading to him and Heinrich about India while they paint), and had the dubious joy of becoming Mrs. Kaphengst in her second marriage. She'd first been married to a Sieur de Bilguer and become widowed. Speaking of portraits - as she outlived her husband by far - according to Fontane, she, like the Comtesse, made into the second half of the 19th century - she still owned one of Heinrich when she died. Not so much of her husband. Which would argue Mrs. Kaphengst, formerly actress Toussaint, did retain a fond memory of her royal patron. Meanwhile, Demoiselle Aurore still was praised by the Rheinsberg countryside people decades later, too, so Fontane's characterisation of her seems to fit, and one can imagine her taking a look at that handsome young Frenchman in distress and thinking "I know!"
Now, about the Comtesse, who was born Karoline Amalie von Zeuner, lady-in-waiting to one of FW2's daughters. (Fontane says "Princess Wilhelmine", but it can't be Wilhelmine Minor the daughter of AW and sister to FW2, since she was ruling the Netherlands at that point, so this must have been yet another Wilhelmine.) The Comte met her in Berlin in 1795 on the occasion of the Peace of Basel (aka when the allied powers recognized Revolutionary France as a state in its own right and stopped trying to restore the monarchy by invading) and married her; she returned to Rheinsberg with him and became the lady of the manor, much as poor doomed young Mrs. Tauenzien (born Elisabeth von Marschall but named Lisette by Heinrich, according to Fontane) had been. She was a blonde with hair that went to her knees (remember, this was the age where wigs were going out of fashion, another change wrought by the French Revolution) and nicknamed "Princess Golden Hair" accordingly, and between being decades older than the Comte and used to his favourites being married by then, Heinrich was charmed and liked her a lot, too. (Fontane, who met her in her old age when she was an excentric old lady who liked bossing people around still believes that, as he says she was witty, engaging and unabashedly brave. (WHen one of Napoleon III.'s faves showed up to take the estate which Heinrich had left to the Comte and her into his posseession by some legalese twisting, she just laughed at him and send him on his merry way, and despite having technically the law on his side, he caved.) She also liked to cook (as in, personally, not by setting up a menu), which was indeed very excentric for a young noblewoman in the 1790s and was seen contributing to her charm as an original.
There was one dramatic invent interrupting this idyll, which was when Heinrich's favourite nephew, Prince Louis Ferdinand went from flirting with the Comtesse to making an unmistakable pass. (Louis: son of brother Ferdinand, would inherit Rheinsberg itself from Heinrich but would die young, in battle against Napoleon in 1806. He was killed by one Jean-Baptise Guindey in personal combat, who got a medal for this but not a promotion, as Napeoleon observed a captured and alive Prince would have been preferable.) Fontane leaves it open how far things went between Louis and the Comtesse, but the Comte callenged Louis to a duel, whereupon Heinrich talked them both down and gave them a "duel = dumb", and "no matter which of you dies, both your reputations would be ruined by such a deed" speech. No duel happened, but things between the Comte and the Comtesse were never quite the same thereafter, and once he returned to France, they lived in separate households. Ototh things between both of them and Heinrich remained harmonious. De La Roche-Aymon wrote military analytical works through his remaining years with Heinrich before resuming his career post Heinrich's death. Writes Fontane:
The Count's critical-military work aroused the interest of his friend and benefactor even more than before, who took part in it in many ways and in the most thorough manner. This friendship lasted until the death of the prince, who wrote the following words down a few months before his death in his Dernières dispositions: »I want to express my gratitude to Count La Roche-Aymon for the tender affection he has given me through all the time when I was fortunate enough to have him near me,” and as is otherwise evident from almost every paragraph of these Dernières dispositions, that the count was the prince's most trustworthy person, the one closest to his heart (in his final years). The prince had chosen it correctly. According to the testimony of all those who knew him, Count La Roche-Aymon combined three chivalrous virtues in an excellent way: courage, loyalty to duty and childlike kindness.
As for the Comtesse, this is the end of Fontane's Rheinsberg chapters:
The Countess, and with that we conclude, was a proud, self-confident woman. She represented the refinement of a time now buried, a refinement that, under certain circumstances, abstracted from the mind and could put its essence into a masterful treatment of the forms. These forms were of the most engaging kind in the Countess, and their appearance corresponded to the judgment I once heard about her: "free, tactful and original at the same time". Ruling and maintaining a large household were her two passions. The more carriages held in the yard, the more comfortable her heart became, and the more lights were on in the house, the brighter sparks sparked her spirit and good mood. Thrifty otherwise and a woman whose account books had to be correct did not scare her from any sacrifice in this regard, the thought hardly touched her that it was a a sacrifice. After the custom of the time when she was young, it looked like a Noah's ark at her home, and from cockatoo down to canaries and squirrels, pretty much everything was found in her rooms. Cats and dogs were, of course, her favorites and were allowed to do anything; an arriving visitor was usually embarrassed where to take a seat, if they could find a free one at all. But with the appearance of the old Countess, everything was immediately forgotten, the disorder no longer mattered, and what had been a nuisance until then became a characteristic ornament. Her speech never stopped, and if Rheinsberg or even "the prince" became the subject of conversation, the hours passed quickly, for herself and for others.
Her death was like her life and had the same Rococo character, as the sofa on which she died or the snuff box that stood in front of her. Her favorite cat, it was said, bit her lip. From this she died (or soon after) in the eighty-ninth year, May 18, 1859.
The last representative of the Prince Heinrich period was buried with her.
Re: The Lehndorff Report: 1784
I giggled! (I also giggled when you first excerpted that.)
The count appeared to him as a gift from heaven, the evening of his life had come, but lo and behold, the sun before it departed lent him a ray of her happy light again.
I know you've quoted this before, but: awwwwww <333333
one can imagine her taking a look at that handsome young Frenchman in distress and thinking "I know!"
Ha! That is a very cute story. Go Demoiselle Aurore!
WHen one of Napoleon III.'s faves showed up to take the estate which Heinrich had left to the Comte and her into his posseession by some legalese twisting, she just laughed at him and send him on his merry way, and despite having technically the law on his side, he caved.
This is a great story too. She is awesome! And I loved Fontane's last epitaph on her. <3 (Fontane is so cool!)
whereupon Heinrich talked them both down and gave them a "duel = dumb", and "no matter which of you dies, both your reputations would be ruined by such a deed" speech.
See, this is why Heinrich is my favorite <3
Thank you for all this, this was great <3
Re: The Lehndorff Report: 1784
He really is, and I am sad not much of his stuff is available in English. Here are two neat articles, though, which at least give you an overview about what there is:
Neglected Books: Theodor Fontane
and
Heroine Addict
Re: The Lehndorff Report: 1784