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Frederick the Great, Discussion Post 27
Still going! :D
Trolling: LOL. Clearly this Duke of Abrantes was an expert!
But I'm not convinced that it would have paid off so much for the Dutch.
You know, if William had still been on the throne, it would have been a different situation, since he ruled both the Netherlands and Britain in personal union. But I agree, not so much under Anne. Btw, it's ironic that the high point and start of the decline of Dutch fortune are so closely together. By which I mean: the William era was undoubtedly the high point. In his youth, not only were the (United Province) Netherlands free of Spain, but they succesfully held their own against France and beat Britain in the Dutch/British war (v.v. humiliating, this, and it came in a triple row of disasters for England, with the Plague and the Great Fire of London following), and years laster, once Charles II. is dead and James has produced a Catholic son and pissed everyone off enough, Dutchman William even takes over Britain. (And no one but a bunch of Ulster Protestant renembers, a Dutch journalist once snarked.) And then it goes downwards from there.
FW: If only he'd adopted me, it wouldn't have! Brandenburg/Netherlands/Britain Empire for the win!
Which remins me: in Antonia Fraser's book on Louis and the women in his life, "Love and Louis XIV", she mentions that after Marie-Therese died, one of the candidates for a second marriage was Sophie-Charlotte, aka Figuelotte, daughter of Sophie of Hannover. (Before it became clear Louis wouldn't marry a second princess because he already had a morganatic marriage with Madame de Maintenon.) Fraser then footnotes this by informing her readers that SC went on to marry F1, that her son was FW the Soldier King and her grandson was Frederick the Great, and adds it's tempting to speculate what the progeny of a Louis/Figuelotte marriage would have been like: great warriors, she says, for sure.
To which I say:
1.) That's assuming not only that military talent is inheritable but that it came from the Hannover line. Given the military track record of G2 and son Bill the Butcher, where success very much depended on superiority of numbers, and defeat ensued (for Cumberland) when the odds were more even, I'm not so sure. Because on the pre-Hannover marriages Hohenzollern side, we have at least the Great Elector, who did quite well for himself on the battlefield.
2.) Also, France's method of promoting by connections and noble blood would have hindered any potential Louis/SC offspring.
3.) FW's Protestant work ethic was a key trait of his personality and very much factored in his changing Prussia in his image. Not that Louis XIV wasn't a disciplined worker himself, but not many others were, and he sure as hell didn't reproduce this kind of discipline in any of his actual offspring. And without an FW obsessed with work and soldiering (sans actual war), you don't get a Fritz, either.
4.) Not to mention that FW and Fritz both had a chip on their shoulder re: the other European powers and wanting to be recognized as their equal. If you're born into the THE power of Europe, on the top level, you don't develop that kind of ambition. (Well, okay, unless you're Louis XIV, but even he had experienced a key time of powerlessness, to wit, when he was a child King and the nobles were rebelling against his mother and Mazarin and ther was civil war.)
All this said: Louis marrying Sophie Charlotte and producing son(s) (and daughters?) with her certainly could have had some interesting results. Assuming at least one hypothetical son survives the measles/small pox/bleeding wipe out, becomes King instead of no more Louis XV., and has anything like FW's temper, we might even get the French Revolution seventy years earlier.
I salute your poetical translation skills. :)
But I'm not convinced that it would have paid off so much for the Dutch.
You know, if William had still been on the throne, it would have been a different situation, since he ruled both the Netherlands and Britain in personal union. But I agree, not so much under Anne. Btw, it's ironic that the high point and start of the decline of Dutch fortune are so closely together. By which I mean: the William era was undoubtedly the high point. In his youth, not only were the (United Province) Netherlands free of Spain, but they succesfully held their own against France and beat Britain in the Dutch/British war (v.v. humiliating, this, and it came in a triple row of disasters for England, with the Plague and the Great Fire of London following), and years laster, once Charles II. is dead and James has produced a Catholic son and pissed everyone off enough, Dutchman William even takes over Britain. (And no one but a bunch of Ulster Protestant renembers, a Dutch journalist once snarked.) And then it goes downwards from there.
FW: If only he'd adopted me, it wouldn't have! Brandenburg/Netherlands/Britain Empire for the win!
Which remins me: in Antonia Fraser's book on Louis and the women in his life, "Love and Louis XIV", she mentions that after Marie-Therese died, one of the candidates for a second marriage was Sophie-Charlotte, aka Figuelotte, daughter of Sophie of Hannover. (Before it became clear Louis wouldn't marry a second princess because he already had a morganatic marriage with Madame de Maintenon.) Fraser then footnotes this by informing her readers that SC went on to marry F1, that her son was FW the Soldier King and her grandson was Frederick the Great, and adds it's tempting to speculate what the progeny of a Louis/Figuelotte marriage would have been like: great warriors, she says, for sure.
To which I say:
1.) That's assuming not only that military talent is inheritable but that it came from the Hannover line. Given the military track record of G2 and son Bill the Butcher, where success very much depended on superiority of numbers, and defeat ensued (for Cumberland) when the odds were more even, I'm not so sure. Because on the pre-Hannover marriages Hohenzollern side, we have at least the Great Elector, who did quite well for himself on the battlefield.
2.) Also, France's method of promoting by connections and noble blood would have hindered any potential Louis/SC offspring.
3.) FW's Protestant work ethic was a key trait of his personality and very much factored in his changing Prussia in his image. Not that Louis XIV wasn't a disciplined worker himself, but not many others were, and he sure as hell didn't reproduce this kind of discipline in any of his actual offspring. And without an FW obsessed with work and soldiering (sans actual war), you don't get a Fritz, either.
4.) Not to mention that FW and Fritz both had a chip on their shoulder re: the other European powers and wanting to be recognized as their equal. If you're born into the THE power of Europe, on the top level, you don't develop that kind of ambition. (Well, okay, unless you're Louis XIV, but even he had experienced a key time of powerlessness, to wit, when he was a child King and the nobles were rebelling against his mother and Mazarin and ther was civil war.)
All this said: Louis marrying Sophie Charlotte and producing son(s) (and daughters?) with her certainly could have had some interesting results. Assuming at least one hypothetical son survives the measles/small pox/bleeding wipe out, becomes King instead of no more Louis XV., and has anything like FW's temper, we might even get the French Revolution seventy years earlier.
I salute your poetical translation skills. :)
As usual, thank you for the write-up, and as usual, far less than I actually want to say:
a King's gotta do what a King's gotta do, and FW acted by the law.
I really, really hope "The tyrant demands blood" is a genuine quote. It seems like it probably is, but we can't be sure. Anyway. I want Katte to have known exactly who the problem here was, even if he couldn't say so publicly.
I bet Doris Ritter did
a King's gotta do what a King's gotta do, and FW acted by the law.
I really, really hope "The tyrant demands blood" is a genuine quote. It seems like it probably is, but we can't be sure. Anyway. I want Katte to have known exactly who the problem here was, even if he couldn't say so publicly.
As to the quote, the chances are reasonably good it's genuine as we discussed back then!
I found another literary footnote: a really long novel about Prince Eugene from the 1950s, written by Louise Eisler (divorced wife of composer Hanns Eisler) and her next husband Ernst Fischer. They were both Marxists. Hanns Eisler, who'd composed the songs for Brecht's play Die Maßnahme and had gone into exile, had fallen foul of the HUAC once the war was over, and ended up in the GDR, composing the East German national anthem. Louise after divorcing him ended up in Austria again, marrying Fischer. And that's really all I know about her; she had befriended my doctoral thesis subject Lion Feuchtwanger while in Exile and he wrote an epilogue for her Eugene novel, which is how I came across it. So the novel is in some way Eugene: The Communist View. It's also written entirely in dialogue, like a stage play, but at novel length, starting in Versailles after young Eugene is refused a job by Louis one time too often and ending shortly after his death and funeral in Vienna.
Characterisation: young Eugene does want fame and a job, and picks Team Habsburg/Austria precisely because they're about to hit rock bottom and a seemingly hopeless cause (all the more impressive if he can make a career there), but he also has an inner idealist waiting to get out pretty soon, falling in love with not the HRE but Austria and the people (naturally), with the jealeaous nobility (intruder alert) hating his guts and the clergy ditto. (Evil Jesuits about.) Soon his goals shift and he basically fights with a reformed, modern Austrian state as the endgame in mind. His tragedy is that he's stuck with three mediocre Emperors in a row who do figure out they need him but are incapable to realize the greater vision, and all too prone to listening to his enemies. His larger tragedy is, as two female characters tell him, that he's fighting for the wrong cause; instead of defeating Racoczky, he should have joined forces with him and fought for Hungarian independence, for starters. (At which point I checked, and Louise Eisler Fischer was born Louise Goztony.) But also while he's doing his best for the people under his command, he doesn't realise you can't reform a rotten system from above.
On the less doctrinaire side, the book actually has its share of interesting relationships and characters. Mind you, it's a early 1950s publication, which means no, no one is openly gay. In the opening Versailles scene, one courtier tells another courtier who has spotted Eugene in the waiting room and wonders who he is that Lselotte has said about him that, and here the direction goes "she whispers the rest in his ear", and that's it. Eugene later has a platonic soulmate relationship with the Countess Eleonore Batthany, nee Strattmann, but while she is unambigiously in love with him, he at least sexually is not in love with her (or anyone else), though he cares deeply for her. We get two scenes with Queen Anne, one with Sarah, one with Abigail, and you can read it as just capricious bored monarch and (platonic) favourite or as subtextual ("nasty rumors" are mentioned). But that's it in terms of hints that not everyone may be straight. Otoh,
Eugene is given a "my best enemy" relationship with Villars, who also shows up already in the Versailles introduction scene, and the two keep running into each other through the years before Malplaquet, always respecting the hell out of each other. This makes Villars one of two competent and sympathetic male aristos who aren't Eugene. The other one is Marlborough. (All other male aristocrats are either incompetent, malicious, or both. The female characters are more more layered; even those working against Eugene, like MT's Dad's Spanish mistress, are given sympathetic or even noble motives.) Since he's really working for Britain, not Anne, like Eugene is working for Austra, not his three Emperors, their bffness is assured. (Marlborough feels as if he hails directly from Winston Churchill's characterisation of him. The novel also likes his wife a lot and is definitely pro-Sarah and anti-Abigail; so much so that when Marlborough mentions some of what Britain has gained at the end of the war, Sarah is sincerely shocked that this includes slave trading rights and is basically Britain's first anti-slavery-aristocrat, giving her husband a "how could you?" (He points out that since he's out of a job now, what's he supposed to do about it?)
In addition to the historical upper class characters, we also get servants, soldiers, engineers and farmers. The most prominent of whom is Ursula, who starts out in Eugene's service, like her brother, and Eugene okay with her wearing men's clothing and basically running his first estate, until some stupid and evil Austrian aristocrats show up who want to provoke the (absent) Eugene by running havoc with his estate. One of them tries to rape Ursula who because she has a pistol can fight him off, but this is it for her; she changes sides and joins the Hungarian rebellion, and once that's defeated doesn't return into Eugene's service anymore, either, unlike her brother Martin who keeps serving him as a soldier. Ursula hold Eugene responsible because he has the insight to understand what's necessary and has managed to achieve genuine power, but he still won't
This is also the criticism of Eleonore, who argues with him a lot - not least because he infuriates her by always seeing his enemy's pov as well, even if said enemies are courtiers scheming against him, EXCEPT in the case of Racoczky and FREE HUNGARY NOW - but also adores him and is the novel's uncontested heroine who gets the last but one word on Eugene once he's dead. (The very last word is given to the people passing his coffin, saying the man in it is "more than the Emperor - one could almost say he's Austria".
The novel's interpretation of Eugene at Philippsburg is that he's not senile, he's just become sick of war and especially sees no point in this particular one. He gets a big scene with Crown Prince Fritz who is indeed One Dangerous Young Man, during which Eugene demonstrates he could still come up with brilliant attack plans if he wanted to, but he doesn't want to. He can see a bit of his thirsting for glory youngest self in Fritz, but what's missing in Fritz is any kind of consideration for his people whatsoever (cue the quote from a letter to Voltaire during Silesia 1 about how war is like Europe having a fever with the inevitable bloodletting). He says he wants a battle like Malplaquet and Eugene gets more appalled by the second. This is definitely a Fritz written post WWII. (And, I suspect, influenced by Lavisse mainly.) Team Eisler & Fischer really have done their research, though, since earlier when eveyone is discussing possible husbands for MT, one of the ministers says "what about the Crown Prince of Prussia, he has SAID he wants to!" and Eugene cuttingly replies that Fritz clearly just wanted to make trouble between Berlin and Vienna when springing that proposal on Grumbkow, pay attention, will you, and no way should it be considered as serious. MT herself also gets two in person cameos as a strong willed and clearly brighter than Dad, Uncle and Granddad girl, but Fritz isn't mentioned in either of them.
Let's see, what else: this Eugene isn't obsessed with avenging himself on Louis (though his mother, who gets one single scene, definitely is), and gets over the "I'll show him" part of his motivation pretty quickly because he starts to bond with the Austrian people. Our authors mention Ligne in the footnotes, thus are ware the memoir is a fake. Otoh, he has a blind spot about Racoczky (see above), and is prone to idealize England until Marlborough and Sarah present him with the downsides during his visit. The one scene with his mother has the implication tht his inability to let anyone get closer than "friendship" level despite being increasingly lonely hails from being regarded as the also ran even before she left. While he mostly is depicted outwitting his opponenets, he's shown to make mistakes as well, at times with devastating consequences for other people (i.e.the servants who get abused by his rivals at court), and, in the end, despite wanting the best Tragically On The Wrong Side of history.
Edited 2021-05-26 20:30 (UTC)
Somebody has offered but not requested!
Edward: However, how about my brother-in-law, Anthony Woodville?
Margaret: ....SERIOUSLY?
AHAHAHAHA
I did know about the Woodvilles from reading The Dragon Waiting -- a while enough ago now that I might not have been able to catch why it was funny without your explanation, but I certainly appreciate it with the reminder :D
Certainly in her later years, after decades of isolated imprisonment and separation from her children (except for the youngest one, Catherine, who had been born after Philip's death and who was allowed to grow up with her mother before getting married), Juana seems to have been severely depressed.
I MEAN. AS MANY PEOPLE WOULD BE.
(When the Castilian diet representatives did swear the loyalty oath to Charles eventually, they did so only under the condition that he promised that if Juana ever regained her sanity, he would step back from power and be her subordinate in everything. You don't have to be a cynic to conclude what the chances were of that ever happening.)
Oof. :(
Margaret: ....SERIOUSLY?
AHAHAHAHA
I did know about the Woodvilles from reading The Dragon Waiting -- a while enough ago now that I might not have been able to catch why it was funny without your explanation, but I certainly appreciate it with the reminder :D
Certainly in her later years, after decades of isolated imprisonment and separation from her children (except for the youngest one, Catherine, who had been born after Philip's death and who was allowed to grow up with her mother before getting married), Juana seems to have been severely depressed.
I MEAN. AS MANY PEOPLE WOULD BE.
(When the Castilian diet representatives did swear the loyalty oath to Charles eventually, they did so only under the condition that he promised that if Juana ever regained her sanity, he would step back from power and be her subordinate in everything. You don't have to be a cynic to conclude what the chances were of that ever happening.)
Oof. :(
"I forgive you, young man, for I know you earn your bread this way."
LOL
He mainly wrote them because he hero-worshipped Eugene and had literary ambitions, plus he wanted to vent about the French
Awwww! Okay, this is actually kinda cute, if true.
LOL
He mainly wrote them because he hero-worshipped Eugene and had literary ambitions, plus he wanted to vent about the French
Awwww! Okay, this is actually kinda cute, if true.
But I find it interesting that while the term "bisexuality" doesn't exist, Liselotte is clearly familiar with the concept and aware that there aren't just straight and gay people around.
Oh, yeah, that hadn't occurred to me but that's pretty interesting, and perceptive of her.
I believe that to love or not to love isn't always up to us; but those who have been given a calm disposition in this regard can thank God as he keeps them from such misery which produces a thousand other miseries as the result.
Heh. That whole letter seems very perceptive.
Oh, yeah, that hadn't occurred to me but that's pretty interesting, and perceptive of her.
I believe that to love or not to love isn't always up to us; but those who have been given a calm disposition in this regard can thank God as he keeps them from such misery which produces a thousand other miseries as the result.
Heh. That whole letter seems very perceptive.
I honestly have nothing coherent to say about this, but it's really interesting! (I'm not as into military battles as you are -- who is? -- but I do find them interesting, especially when explained accessibly like this :) ) Particularly how it ends up to be a tactical Pyrrhic victory.
Therefore, when Louvois [secretary of state for war], hearing of my departure, said, "so much the better, he will never return into this country again,"--I swore never to enter it, but with arms in my hands. I HAVE KEPT MY WORD.
LOL! That is great, and is definitely... extremely dramatic in a fanfic kind of way.
LOL! That is great, and is definitely... extremely dramatic in a fanfic kind of way.
Voltaire: literally THE BEST. I should be mad at him over fooling everyone with Pamela for two hundred years, but it's too hilarious not to forgive.
I knoooow, in principle I guess it's pretty similar to Catt, but in practice I'm kind of like LOLOLOLOL you are such a troll! There's honestly just... something about him rewriting an entire suite of letters and arranging for them to be disseminated after his death that... I just gotta admire the sheer over-the-topness that went into that.
I knoooow, in principle I guess it's pretty similar to Catt, but in practice I'm kind of like LOLOLOLOL you are such a troll! There's honestly just... something about him rewriting an entire suite of letters and arranging for them to be disseminated after his death that... I just gotta admire the sheer over-the-topness that went into that.
A couple of vids for you, all English subtitled scenes from the Spanish series Carlos Rey Emperador and its predecessor, Isabel.
Juana meets her grown up children: Teenage Charles (the not yet V) and his oldest sister Eleanor meet their mother Juana (and youngest sister Catherine) for the first time since early, early childhood, in the first episode of the series
And a correspondending scene from near the end, when Charles abdicates (and splits the Empire and the Habsburg line) in order to retire into a monastary (so he can save his grandson in one of the endings of the Verdi opera *g*. Juana is mentioned in this scene, not least because it takes place not too long after her death (she lived to be this old) and Charles chooses to abdicate in Flanders, where he was born and grew up. Also present: young not yet Philip II (and Austrian Habsburg cousins, the kids of Charles' younger brother Ferdinand): Abdication scene
Scene from shortly thereafter, in which Philip the now II, who has just married Mary Tudor which he hadn't been too keen on, is NOT happy about not becoming Emperor, but makes up with Dad when Charles explains some more: The burden of Empire
And now let me introduce you to an awesome woman also in play in this saga, briefly mentioned before, Margaret of Austria, daughter of Maximilian and Mary, sister of Philip le Bel, and by far the most sympathetic Habsburg of her generation.
Because child marriages are a thing, toddler Margaret, the same year Mary of Burgundy dies tragically, gets betrothed to Charles the son of Louis the Spider King of France in order to achieve France/Burgundy/HRE peace. The French insist she grows up with them so she'll become a proper French Queen. Margaret accordingly spends much of her childhood and youth in France only for Charles to marry Anne of Brittany instead (the French still don't let her go back to her father until two years after the marriage.
Margaret: *not a cheerleader of the House of Valois thereafter*
Max(imilian): Chin up! I've just arranged a double marriage. You get the only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, Juan, and your brother Philip le Bel gets his sister Juana. That way, Habsburgs will sit on the Spanish thrones for sure. Unlike certain events taking place centuries after our life time, MY double brother/sister marriages work.
Margaret: sets sail for Spain
Mighty storm: happens.
Margaret: composes her epitath just in case: "Here lies Margaret, the willing bride,
Twice married - but a virgin when she died."
Margaret: doesn*t die, marries Juan. Juan, however, dies only six MONTHS into the marriage (which will make his sister Juana the next heir of Castile). Margaret is pregnant by then, but has a stillbirth. This means it's back to Burgundy with her.
Max: Given my on/off feuding with France, and Savoy being strategically placed, clearly Margaret should marry the Duke of Savoy next.
Margaret: *becomes Mrs. Savoy; three years later, her husband dies*
Margaret: I've had it! Legend has it I'm throwing myself out of a window of grief, which I survive. This may or may not have been the case, but I do keep his heart with me for my remaining very long life. Note no one is declaring me insane fo r eihter action. As it turns out, the positive part of my life is finally beginning, since I refuse to marry a third time. No more marriages, say I.
Max: ...okay. Since your brother Philip just died, how about I appoint you governor of Flanders and guardian of his older kids instead?
Margaret: Accepted.
Margaret: *is so successful as governor of the Netherlands that Charles, once he's grown up, reappoints her indefinitely until her death*
Margaret: *also starts to become first her father's and then her nephew's chief representative in tricky negotiations; she ends up being called the greatest diplomat of her era*
Treaties and events negotiated by Margaret: Maximilian/Louis treaty in 1508
anti-France alliance between Max and young Henry VIII, 1513
election of Charles as HRE (backed with Fugger money, but Margaret was doing the actual negotiating with the Princes Elector and the Papacy, which was just a biiiiiit worried about the prospect of a Habsburg ruling Spain and the HRE at the same time (not unjustifiedly so, ask a later Pope driven from Rome by Charles) in 1519
Charles/Francis treaty in 1529
Margaret was also a great patron of the arts, and her Netherlands court was supposedly the most cultivated of Europe, which is why one Thomas Boleyn, English diplomat, sent his child daughter Anne there (before she ended up at the French court). Thus one of the earliest mentions of Anne Boleyn is by Margaret in a letter to Thomas, stating the little girl was "so presentable and so pleasant, considering her youthful age, that I am more beholden to you for sending her to me, than you to me."
She died in 1530 according to the best known version by gangrene in her foot that developed after she stepped into a shard of glass, and may or may not have drunk too much of an opiate to dull her pain. By this time, the was the Matriarch of the family and the realms, having raised several of their monarchs. In addition to Charles, there was Eleanor (Queen of Portugal, later Queen of France, which was part of the Charles/Francis peace deal), Isabella (Queen of Norway and Denmark), and Mary (Queen of Bohemia and Hungary, also Margaret's successor as governess of the Netherlands and like her trying to keep the peace between Charles and brother Ferdinand. Whom Margaret had not raised. Ferdinand, ironically enough, had been raised in Spain, though not by Juana, but at the court of the grandfather he was named after. (Ironically enough because Ferdinand, who grew up in Spain, and did want the Spanish crown(s), never ruled Spain - remember, he got the HRE eventually - whereas Charles, who'd grown up in Flanders and was a stranger when he came to Spain for the first time, did end up ruling it.)
Margaret vid, showing her both as a young and older woman and the voice of sanity for two generations
And a scene from the series the footage is from again:
Margaret and brother Philip le Bel fight about Juana; she tries to make him treat her better.
Juana meets her grown up children: Teenage Charles (the not yet V) and his oldest sister Eleanor meet their mother Juana (and youngest sister Catherine) for the first time since early, early childhood, in the first episode of the series
And a correspondending scene from near the end, when Charles abdicates (and splits the Empire and the Habsburg line) in order to retire into a monastary (so he can save his grandson in one of the endings of the Verdi opera *g*. Juana is mentioned in this scene, not least because it takes place not too long after her death (she lived to be this old) and Charles chooses to abdicate in Flanders, where he was born and grew up. Also present: young not yet Philip II (and Austrian Habsburg cousins, the kids of Charles' younger brother Ferdinand): Abdication scene
Scene from shortly thereafter, in which Philip the now II, who has just married Mary Tudor which he hadn't been too keen on, is NOT happy about not becoming Emperor, but makes up with Dad when Charles explains some more: The burden of Empire
And now let me introduce you to an awesome woman also in play in this saga, briefly mentioned before, Margaret of Austria, daughter of Maximilian and Mary, sister of Philip le Bel, and by far the most sympathetic Habsburg of her generation.
Because child marriages are a thing, toddler Margaret, the same year Mary of Burgundy dies tragically, gets betrothed to Charles the son of Louis the Spider King of France in order to achieve France/Burgundy/HRE peace. The French insist she grows up with them so she'll become a proper French Queen. Margaret accordingly spends much of her childhood and youth in France only for Charles to marry Anne of Brittany instead (the French still don't let her go back to her father until two years after the marriage.
Margaret: *not a cheerleader of the House of Valois thereafter*
Max(imilian): Chin up! I've just arranged a double marriage. You get the only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, Juan, and your brother Philip le Bel gets his sister Juana. That way, Habsburgs will sit on the Spanish thrones for sure. Unlike certain events taking place centuries after our life time, MY double brother/sister marriages work.
Margaret: sets sail for Spain
Mighty storm: happens.
Margaret: composes her epitath just in case: "Here lies Margaret, the willing bride,
Twice married - but a virgin when she died."
Margaret: doesn*t die, marries Juan. Juan, however, dies only six MONTHS into the marriage (which will make his sister Juana the next heir of Castile). Margaret is pregnant by then, but has a stillbirth. This means it's back to Burgundy with her.
Max: Given my on/off feuding with France, and Savoy being strategically placed, clearly Margaret should marry the Duke of Savoy next.
Margaret: *becomes Mrs. Savoy; three years later, her husband dies*
Margaret: I've had it! Legend has it I'm throwing myself out of a window of grief, which I survive. This may or may not have been the case, but I do keep his heart with me for my remaining very long life. Note no one is declaring me insane fo r eihter action. As it turns out, the positive part of my life is finally beginning, since I refuse to marry a third time. No more marriages, say I.
Max: ...okay. Since your brother Philip just died, how about I appoint you governor of Flanders and guardian of his older kids instead?
Margaret: Accepted.
Margaret: *is so successful as governor of the Netherlands that Charles, once he's grown up, reappoints her indefinitely until her death*
Margaret: *also starts to become first her father's and then her nephew's chief representative in tricky negotiations; she ends up being called the greatest diplomat of her era*
Treaties and events negotiated by Margaret: Maximilian/Louis treaty in 1508
anti-France alliance between Max and young Henry VIII, 1513
election of Charles as HRE (backed with Fugger money, but Margaret was doing the actual negotiating with the Princes Elector and the Papacy, which was just a biiiiiit worried about the prospect of a Habsburg ruling Spain and the HRE at the same time (not unjustifiedly so, ask a later Pope driven from Rome by Charles) in 1519
Charles/Francis treaty in 1529
Margaret was also a great patron of the arts, and her Netherlands court was supposedly the most cultivated of Europe, which is why one Thomas Boleyn, English diplomat, sent his child daughter Anne there (before she ended up at the French court). Thus one of the earliest mentions of Anne Boleyn is by Margaret in a letter to Thomas, stating the little girl was "so presentable and so pleasant, considering her youthful age, that I am more beholden to you for sending her to me, than you to me."
She died in 1530 according to the best known version by gangrene in her foot that developed after she stepped into a shard of glass, and may or may not have drunk too much of an opiate to dull her pain. By this time, the was the Matriarch of the family and the realms, having raised several of their monarchs. In addition to Charles, there was Eleanor (Queen of Portugal, later Queen of France, which was part of the Charles/Francis peace deal), Isabella (Queen of Norway and Denmark), and Mary (Queen of Bohemia and Hungary, also Margaret's successor as governess of the Netherlands and like her trying to keep the peace between Charles and brother Ferdinand. Whom Margaret had not raised. Ferdinand, ironically enough, had been raised in Spain, though not by Juana, but at the court of the grandfather he was named after. (Ironically enough because Ferdinand, who grew up in Spain, and did want the Spanish crown(s), never ruled Spain - remember, he got the HRE eventually - whereas Charles, who'd grown up in Flanders and was a stranger when he came to Spain for the first time, did end up ruling it.)
Margaret vid, showing her both as a young and older woman and the voice of sanity for two generations
And a scene from the series the footage is from again:
Margaret and brother Philip le Bel fight about Juana; she tries to make him treat her better.
Edited 2021-05-27 07:17 (UTC)
Oh, good, I was hoping you would tell Margaret's story, since I have no time (and as usual, you know some details I didn't).
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selenak (and felis), I need more books to practice my German on. Criteria:- Non-fiction.
- Salon-relevant.
- A topic I'm eager to learn more about.
- Continuous text with gripping narrative (not letters or diaries).
- Style either simple like Ziebura or entertaining like Horowski and Orieux.
- No unholy fonts!
- Oh, and 18th century German is just a bit too much for both me and my friend Google Translate right now.
It turns out that I need a certain amount of being fascinated with the content of what I'm reading, in order to compensate for the struggle with the language. If I'm not eager to keep picking up the book because in the short-term I will learn a lot of things I very much want to know, then it takes a whole lot more willpower to force myself to read for hours every day solely for the long-term payoff.
Lehndorff's lack of narrative and the fact that I don't know who most of the people are are making it difficult to stay engrossed with figuring out every sentence. It was fun when I was reading a few pages a day while googling and cross-referencing all the proper names and telling you about my findings, and I will probably resume doing that for salon research purposes, but it's not great German practice.
Stollberg-Rilinger is interesting but just a liiitle too dry. (Would be fine in English, but isn't quite compensating for the linguistic struggle in German. In English, I could skim the less interesting parts, but in German, I work hard for a paragraph only to find that it wasn't that interesting.)
Rereading favorite fiction books that have been translated into German doesn't work because I'm not eager to find out what happens next; I already know what happens next! And reading new fiction doesn't work because my brain has all but rejected new fiction for the last 10+ years.
I just need to get to the point where reading German isn't such a struggle, and then the amount of compensation I will need will lessen, and I'll be able to read a broader range of material.
Any suggestions?
Edited 2021-05-27 13:56 (UTC)
Yeah, that was disappointing! I check occasionally and see that she still hasn't. OTOH, she hasn't even kudos-ed fics she's received since then, so it's definitely not you. And you know we will leave you detailed and gushy comments! <3
I can't believe I almost decided not to read past the War of the Spanish Succession in the Philip V bio! (Mostly because the only e-book I can find is archive.org, and I find the interface insanely difficult to work with.) I had completely forgotten that Rottemborg was envoy to Spain during Philip's reign, and I would get a whole lot of context for things relevant to my fix-it fic, if nothing else.
selenak, remember when you told us that Morgenstern said Rottembourg said he missed FW's Prussian when he was in Madrid? And we decided it was one of Morgenstern's sarcasms? I now actually believe it! Not that he loved Prussia so much--I've just confirmed he asked for his leave on all three of his missions, in one case within a few months of arrival--but I didn't realize that both Rottembourg's missions to Spain corresponded with the absolute nadir of Philip's mental health, and the effect was torture on ambassadors:
First mission (October 1727-April 1728)
Rottembourg appears to have escaped before matters peaked in June, but I also don't know exactly when certain symptoms began. What I've got is this:
May 1727 - end of 1727: Philip V severely depressed, unwilling to speak to his ministers. Will listen to reports, but "no sign of hearing other than a gesture now and then or a fleeting smile."
Early 1728: Back in business, but severe attacks. Doesn't see ministers for weeks at a time, and then will only see them at night, and will keep them up until dawn. Audiences with ambassadors are held at midnight.
June is when he starts wanting to abdicate for the second time. (Remember, he abdicated once, gave the throne to his son, and his son died of smallpox after about 7 months.) His wife, Isabella, tries to prevent him. She has all writing implements removed, and keeps a close guard on him. So Philip tries escaping by sneaking out at 5 am, while she's asleep, and flees the palace in his nightshirt. She has the guards stop him, changes the locks, and gives the guards orders not to let him escape, but he tries this several times.
Finally, on June 28, he sneaks some paper while Isabella's in another room for a minute, writes out his abdication, and has his most trusted servant smuggle it into the council. The council session is discussing it when Isabella's messenger arrives, confiscates the piece of paper, and destroys it.
During this summer, and I don't know how early it started and whether some of them would have been affecting Rottembourg by April, but we've got these symptoms:
* Giving audiences to ambassadors either in his nightshirt or almost naked.
* Paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations.
* Biting himself.
* Screaming and/or singing.
* Urinating and defecating in bed.
* Believing he's a frog (July). (Rottembourg's replacement as ambassador arrived in June. Man, I don't envy him.)
* Believing that he's dead.
* Bulimia.
Rottembourg gets the hell out just in time, it seems. But he's back in 1730, which is when things are really crazy, and for a much longer time.
Second mission: (December 1730-April 1734)
During most of this time, the court isn't in Madrid, it's in Andalusia, and it's peripatetic. This is Isabella's idea for how to make Philip's mental health improve: change of scenery.
This means tons of expenses for the ambassadors. Ambassadors were notoriously in arrears for their salaries, and most were rich and the rest supported by their families. Random expenses like "The King decided to move his court" have to be covered out of pocket. So Rottembourg, who was himself very rich, had to sell property to cover these years.
And then there's the part where summer 1730 is when Philip's mental health crashes again. He's severely depressed, bulimic, and consuming vast amounts of poison antidotes (I don't know the details) because of his paranoia. He's convinced that his stools contain blood; when he inspects them and they aren't, he accuses the doctors of concealing the blood. His toenails get so long it's difficult to walk. He won't let anyone do his hair, so it turns into a complete mess. He smells terrible. His only entertainment is fishing...in his garden...at night...from a bowl that his attendants have placed fish in.
But he won't give up power, either. He walks around muttering, "I'm the boss here" (Je suis le maître), and making things difficult to prove it. If you give him a stack of papers to be signed in a certain order, he'll rearrange the papers when you're not looking.
And, of course, he's conducting all business at night. Upon arriving, Rottembourg describes the situation as "incomprehensible", and complains about being kept in meetings until 6 am. Meanwhile, Isabella is trying to conduct a normal life during the day and take care of her husband and help him with state business at night.
June 1731: Rottembourg reports that he shows up for an audience at night, but the queen has collapsed from exhaustion and is fast asleep, and Philip hasn't slept in 48 hours. So Rottembourg waits until 7 am, at which point he's told they can't see him until 5:30 pm.
By July, Philip is getting one hour of sleep a night, his legs are swollen, and everyone's convinced he's going to die.
A year later, after a brief manic episode, he's back to depressed, with no hygiene, and refusing to talk to anyone because he's dead. Also, he's extremely concerned that because he had abdicated, then became king again after his son died, his rule is invalid. By not talking, he can avoid ruling!
In October 1732, he decides he's going to talk, but only to his valet. He then starts explaining how he's going to unite the crowns of France and Spain to his valet...but no one else.
In November, he breaks his streak of not talking to ministers and ambassadors by insisting that he needs to talk to Rottembourg. "The startled count was presented with the spectacle of a king with clothing completely disordered, with a long and filthy beard, and wearing no trousers or shoes, his legs and feet naked."
This is the kind of thing that could make you miss FW forcing you to get drunk!
In conclusion, Rottembourg may well have been quoted as saying, "However bad Berlin was, it was better than Madrid!" (At least there was the SD court in Berlin when FW was away.)
Rottembourg's Health or "Health"
Rottembourg's health, btw, is bad; in 1733 he starts requesting his recall, in 1734 it's granted, and in 1735 he dies. Did the stay in Spain make it worse? Who knows, but it can't have helped.
Speaking of his health, I've now refreshed my memory that during his first two missions to Berlin, he requested recall on the grounds of his health and the Berlin climate, and the third time, he requested permission for a short leave to take care of some personal affairs, which turned into a permanent absence. But as we've seen, most Frexits proceeded officially by complaining about the climate of Berlin, not complaints about the King!
Katte Visits Rottembourg??
Also, also, I have found a crux that I had noticed ages ago, but wasn't confident was a crux, because I wasn't sure which sources to trust. I now have confidence in saying that the claim in Kloosterhuis that Martin von Katte says that Hans Heinrich says that Hans Hermann went to Madrid in late 1728/early 1729 (exact date not given), and that he met Rottembourg there, is weird!
What Kloosterhuis says: "He went in October 1728 initially to Paris on a mission for his father, then on his own initiative to Madrid, in order to visit Count Rottembourg, who'd meanwhile been stationed there, and finally to London, where he crushed on Petronella."
But I am now quite confident that Rottembourg was sent to Spain in late 1727 to negotiate the end of the Anglo-Spanish War, and that when the Convention of El Pardo was signed on March 6, Rottembourg's work was done. He announced his departure on March 28, took his leave at court on April 3, and set off for France on April 7. The multi-volume collection of instructions to ambassadors from the French archives that is of such high quality that I found an expert on British diplomacy of the 1720s envying says that in October 1730, when he got his new mission to Spain, it had been 2.5 years since his return from Spain.
And though I don't have a date for his arrival in Paris, it only took him 3 weeks to get back in 1734, while traveling extremely sick. Even if you double that time because in 1728, he's in Madrid and 1734, he's in Andalusia, which is closer to the coast (we know that he traveled by Barcelona on his way to Seville in 1730) By, say, November or December 1728, it should be really obvious to Katte in Paris that Madrid is not where Rottembourg is. Based on the time for mail, and the fact that they may not have kept in super close touch, I'm willing to believe that when he set out from Berlin, Katte thought Rottembourg was in Madrid, but I'm very surprised that after visiting Paris he didn't. Even if Rottembourg wasn't in Paris, and I suspect he was, even if he was taking the waters somewhere, surely you'd ask around before setting off to Madrid!
Incidentally, depending on how long Katte stayed in Paris and how long it took him to travel to Spain, he might have arrived to find the court wasn't in Madrid; they arrived in Seville on February 3, 1729.
Anyway, this is kind of hilarious, because one plot twist in my fix-it fic was that Katte would set off from Edinburgh, kind of out of the loop, in late 1730, looking for Rottembourg in Madrid, and find that he wasn't there, but had been recalled to France. (This is because I was getting conflicting info on Rottembourg's dates in Spain; I now feel pretty clear on the ones I have and have updated the chronology in our library.)
So, what happened in late 1728? Our sources are mistaken? Katte left without adequate research and arrived in Madrid to an unpleasant surprise? Katte and Rottembourg did or didn't actually meet up, in Paris, in Madrid, or in Seville?
I should add that in addition to the Philip V bio, which I'm almost finished with and will have some Philip V updates on when I am, I have read two articles on diplomacy in Spain at the time that Rottembourg was present, found a dissertation and hunted for all the occurrences of his name, and skimmed the instructions given to him for his two missions to Spain, as well as my usual detective work across a few Google books hits, so I now have a much better idea of what Rottembourg was up to when and why in Spain. He actually got in (a little) trouble in 1727!
Name Spelling
The collection of instructions to French ambassadors says that despite the varied spellings of the name Rottembourg (because it's of German origin; he was from Berlin and is cousin to Prussian count Rothenburg), the envoy himself always spelled it 'Rottembourg.'
Marital Status: Unknown
Incidentally, our source, or one of our sources, on Rottembourg dying unmarried (remember, some of my sources give a marriage date and a wife's name and genealogy; others say never married): Saint-Simon, who was a contemporary, at Versailles with him, and ambassador to Spain in 1721. So you'd think he would know. In contrast to the source I've found for him being married, which is a 1733 genealogical history. On the other hand, the memoirs were published in 1886, which means who knows what's been done to them by the editor!
selenak, remember when you told us that Morgenstern said Rottembourg said he missed FW's Prussian when he was in Madrid? And we decided it was one of Morgenstern's sarcasms? I now actually believe it! Not that he loved Prussia so much--I've just confirmed he asked for his leave on all three of his missions, in one case within a few months of arrival--but I didn't realize that both Rottembourg's missions to Spain corresponded with the absolute nadir of Philip's mental health, and the effect was torture on ambassadors:First mission (October 1727-April 1728)
Rottembourg appears to have escaped before matters peaked in June, but I also don't know exactly when certain symptoms began. What I've got is this:
May 1727 - end of 1727: Philip V severely depressed, unwilling to speak to his ministers. Will listen to reports, but "no sign of hearing other than a gesture now and then or a fleeting smile."
Early 1728: Back in business, but severe attacks. Doesn't see ministers for weeks at a time, and then will only see them at night, and will keep them up until dawn. Audiences with ambassadors are held at midnight.
June is when he starts wanting to abdicate for the second time. (Remember, he abdicated once, gave the throne to his son, and his son died of smallpox after about 7 months.) His wife, Isabella, tries to prevent him. She has all writing implements removed, and keeps a close guard on him. So Philip tries escaping by sneaking out at 5 am, while she's asleep, and flees the palace in his nightshirt. She has the guards stop him, changes the locks, and gives the guards orders not to let him escape, but he tries this several times.
Finally, on June 28, he sneaks some paper while Isabella's in another room for a minute, writes out his abdication, and has his most trusted servant smuggle it into the council. The council session is discussing it when Isabella's messenger arrives, confiscates the piece of paper, and destroys it.
During this summer, and I don't know how early it started and whether some of them would have been affecting Rottembourg by April, but we've got these symptoms:
* Giving audiences to ambassadors either in his nightshirt or almost naked.
* Paranoia, delusions, and hallucinations.
* Biting himself.
* Screaming and/or singing.
* Urinating and defecating in bed.
* Believing he's a frog (July). (Rottembourg's replacement as ambassador arrived in June. Man, I don't envy him.)
* Believing that he's dead.
* Bulimia.
Rottembourg gets the hell out just in time, it seems. But he's back in 1730, which is when things are really crazy, and for a much longer time.
Second mission: (December 1730-April 1734)
During most of this time, the court isn't in Madrid, it's in Andalusia, and it's peripatetic. This is Isabella's idea for how to make Philip's mental health improve: change of scenery.
This means tons of expenses for the ambassadors. Ambassadors were notoriously in arrears for their salaries, and most were rich and the rest supported by their families. Random expenses like "The King decided to move his court" have to be covered out of pocket. So Rottembourg, who was himself very rich, had to sell property to cover these years.
And then there's the part where summer 1730 is when Philip's mental health crashes again. He's severely depressed, bulimic, and consuming vast amounts of poison antidotes (I don't know the details) because of his paranoia. He's convinced that his stools contain blood; when he inspects them and they aren't, he accuses the doctors of concealing the blood. His toenails get so long it's difficult to walk. He won't let anyone do his hair, so it turns into a complete mess. He smells terrible. His only entertainment is fishing...in his garden...at night...from a bowl that his attendants have placed fish in.
But he won't give up power, either. He walks around muttering, "I'm the boss here" (Je suis le maître), and making things difficult to prove it. If you give him a stack of papers to be signed in a certain order, he'll rearrange the papers when you're not looking.
And, of course, he's conducting all business at night. Upon arriving, Rottembourg describes the situation as "incomprehensible", and complains about being kept in meetings until 6 am. Meanwhile, Isabella is trying to conduct a normal life during the day and take care of her husband and help him with state business at night.
June 1731: Rottembourg reports that he shows up for an audience at night, but the queen has collapsed from exhaustion and is fast asleep, and Philip hasn't slept in 48 hours. So Rottembourg waits until 7 am, at which point he's told they can't see him until 5:30 pm.
By July, Philip is getting one hour of sleep a night, his legs are swollen, and everyone's convinced he's going to die.
A year later, after a brief manic episode, he's back to depressed, with no hygiene, and refusing to talk to anyone because he's dead. Also, he's extremely concerned that because he had abdicated, then became king again after his son died, his rule is invalid. By not talking, he can avoid ruling!
In October 1732, he decides he's going to talk, but only to his valet. He then starts explaining how he's going to unite the crowns of France and Spain to his valet...but no one else.
In November, he breaks his streak of not talking to ministers and ambassadors by insisting that he needs to talk to Rottembourg. "The startled count was presented with the spectacle of a king with clothing completely disordered, with a long and filthy beard, and wearing no trousers or shoes, his legs and feet naked."
This is the kind of thing that could make you miss FW forcing you to get drunk!
In conclusion, Rottembourg may well have been quoted as saying, "However bad Berlin was, it was better than Madrid!" (At least there was the SD court in Berlin when FW was away.)
Rottembourg's Health or "Health"
Rottembourg's health, btw, is bad; in 1733 he starts requesting his recall, in 1734 it's granted, and in 1735 he dies. Did the stay in Spain make it worse? Who knows, but it can't have helped.
Speaking of his health, I've now refreshed my memory that during his first two missions to Berlin, he requested recall on the grounds of his health and the Berlin climate, and the third time, he requested permission for a short leave to take care of some personal affairs, which turned into a permanent absence. But as we've seen, most Frexits proceeded officially by complaining about the climate of Berlin, not complaints about the King!
Katte Visits Rottembourg??
Also, also, I have found a crux that I had noticed ages ago, but wasn't confident was a crux, because I wasn't sure which sources to trust. I now have confidence in saying that the claim in Kloosterhuis that Martin von Katte says that Hans Heinrich says that Hans Hermann went to Madrid in late 1728/early 1729 (exact date not given), and that he met Rottembourg there, is weird!
What Kloosterhuis says: "He went in October 1728 initially to Paris on a mission for his father, then on his own initiative to Madrid, in order to visit Count Rottembourg, who'd meanwhile been stationed there, and finally to London, where he crushed on Petronella."
But I am now quite confident that Rottembourg was sent to Spain in late 1727 to negotiate the end of the Anglo-Spanish War, and that when the Convention of El Pardo was signed on March 6, Rottembourg's work was done. He announced his departure on March 28, took his leave at court on April 3, and set off for France on April 7. The multi-volume collection of instructions to ambassadors from the French archives that is of such high quality that I found an expert on British diplomacy of the 1720s envying says that in October 1730, when he got his new mission to Spain, it had been 2.5 years since his return from Spain.
And though I don't have a date for his arrival in Paris, it only took him 3 weeks to get back in 1734, while traveling extremely sick. Even if you double that time because in 1728, he's in Madrid and 1734, he's in Andalusia, which is closer to the coast (we know that he traveled by Barcelona on his way to Seville in 1730) By, say, November or December 1728, it should be really obvious to Katte in Paris that Madrid is not where Rottembourg is. Based on the time for mail, and the fact that they may not have kept in super close touch, I'm willing to believe that when he set out from Berlin, Katte thought Rottembourg was in Madrid, but I'm very surprised that after visiting Paris he didn't. Even if Rottembourg wasn't in Paris, and I suspect he was, even if he was taking the waters somewhere, surely you'd ask around before setting off to Madrid!
Incidentally, depending on how long Katte stayed in Paris and how long it took him to travel to Spain, he might have arrived to find the court wasn't in Madrid; they arrived in Seville on February 3, 1729.
Anyway, this is kind of hilarious, because one plot twist in my fix-it fic was that Katte would set off from Edinburgh, kind of out of the loop, in late 1730, looking for Rottembourg in Madrid, and find that he wasn't there, but had been recalled to France. (This is because I was getting conflicting info on Rottembourg's dates in Spain; I now feel pretty clear on the ones I have and have updated the chronology in our library.)
So, what happened in late 1728? Our sources are mistaken? Katte left without adequate research and arrived in Madrid to an unpleasant surprise? Katte and Rottembourg did or didn't actually meet up, in Paris, in Madrid, or in Seville?
I should add that in addition to the Philip V bio, which I'm almost finished with and will have some Philip V updates on when I am, I have read two articles on diplomacy in Spain at the time that Rottembourg was present, found a dissertation and hunted for all the occurrences of his name, and skimmed the instructions given to him for his two missions to Spain, as well as my usual detective work across a few Google books hits, so I now have a much better idea of what Rottembourg was up to when and why in Spain. He actually got in (a little) trouble in 1727!
Name Spelling
The collection of instructions to French ambassadors says that despite the varied spellings of the name Rottembourg (because it's of German origin; he was from Berlin and is cousin to Prussian count Rothenburg), the envoy himself always spelled it 'Rottembourg.'
Marital Status: Unknown
Incidentally, our source, or one of our sources, on Rottembourg dying unmarried (remember, some of my sources give a marriage date and a wife's name and genealogy; others say never married): Saint-Simon, who was a contemporary, at Versailles with him, and ambassador to Spain in 1721. So you'd think he would know. In contrast to the source I've found for him being married, which is a 1733 genealogical history. On the other hand, the memoirs were published in 1886, which means who knows what's been done to them by the editor!
Yowsers. In this case, Morgenstern really wasn't kidding. I guess in our fictional 18th century envoys get together, we just have come across a new category to compete in: worst posting ever? Also, the otherwise thorough Kloosterhuis clearly didn't trouble to check and compare dates on Philip V. with the story of Katte's visit. I'm not surprised Martin von Katte didn't, he wasn't a professional historian and repeating a family story. It would be good to have Hans Heinrich's original letter and/or wording about this visit - maybe he just said that on what was supposed to be just a journey to France and back, Hans Herrmann met Rottembourg, the French envoy to Spain, and then proceeded to Britain. Which made Martin v. K. and after him Kloosterhuis draw the easy conclusion that the meeting in question had taken place in Spain, not France. But it also makes geographical sense if Katte went to Paris, met Rottembourg there, and then went on to London, without the major detour of a trip to Spain!
Well, this is hard! I checked what else our buddy Horowski has to offer. Seems he has a new book coming out in November which could be just the ticket, as it's about the families Richelieu, Bentinck and Liechtenstein between the 17th and the 19th century. But it's months till November, and the only other book that's available sounds way more academic and more like it's his published dissertation. It's also hideously expensive (69 Euros!).
Now, there are Sophie of Hannover's Memoirs in German, which have the advantage of being a) short, b) not hideously expensive (ca. 15 Euros on Kindle), and c) this includes the introduction essay for the new translation and the footnotes. I found them very entertaining, informative (with the caveat that they end shortly after Sophie's turned 50, so don't expect anything about the Hohenzollern in them) and often witty, see my write-up. But there are also a lot of people mentioned you might not know yet (though there are footnotes telling you who they are). Btw, there's an English translation out there as well, I think, at least there's one at the Stabi, which I'm not interested in since I have the German translation at home.
(ETA: another advantage of the Sophie memoirs in German is that the translation is recent - the Memoirs were written in French, after all - , which means you don't have to put up with Baroque German. Which you would have in any edition of Liselotte's letters which isn't a translation into English, so I can't rec it to you./ETA.)b
If you want to branch out and try fiction after all, I could also reccommend the book which I've gifted tocahn in English, Christine Brückner's "Ungehaltene Reden ungehaltener Frauen". This has the advantage that the fictional speeches by various real and fictional ladies are all short texts (and the book itself is also a slim volume), and every text stands on its own. I don't love all speeches to the same degree, but several of them I do, and there is much wit there as well as emotion.
Now, there are Sophie of Hannover's Memoirs in German, which have the advantage of being a) short, b) not hideously expensive (ca. 15 Euros on Kindle), and c) this includes the introduction essay for the new translation and the footnotes. I found them very entertaining, informative (with the caveat that they end shortly after Sophie's turned 50, so don't expect anything about the Hohenzollern in them) and often witty, see my write-up. But there are also a lot of people mentioned you might not know yet (though there are footnotes telling you who they are). Btw, there's an English translation out there as well, I think, at least there's one at the Stabi, which I'm not interested in since I have the German translation at home.
(ETA: another advantage of the Sophie memoirs in German is that the translation is recent - the Memoirs were written in French, after all - , which means you don't have to put up with Baroque German. Which you would have in any edition of Liselotte's letters which isn't a translation into English, so I can't rec it to you./ETA.)b
If you want to branch out and try fiction after all, I could also reccommend the book which I've gifted to
cahn in English, Christine Brückner's "Ungehaltene Reden ungehaltener Frauen". This has the advantage that the fictional speeches by various real and fictional ladies are all short texts (and the book itself is also a slim volume), and every text stands on its own. I don't love all speeches to the same degree, but several of them I do, and there is much wit there as well as emotion. Edited 2021-05-28 08:23 (UTC)
I might try the Sophie memoirs out, thanks! I was going to ask if the Beuys Sophie book was more like Ziebura or like Stollberg-Rilinger? If it's more like Ziebura, I might try it.
What about Füssel?
What about Füssel?
Füssel comes in two variations. He's written both a lengthy and a short book about the 7 Years War. Both are readable and interesting - language wise, more like Ziebura than Stolberg-Rillinger. Mind you, especially in the lengthy book, he quotes from original documents, some of which were in German which means Rokoko language. But as he really covers the "first World War" aspect, i.e. we get the overseas goings on as well, these aren't a lot.
The Beuys Sophie & Sophie book (as it's really about both of them) isn't as academic as Stollberg-Rillinger, and not nearly as lengthy, either, but it is drier than Ziebura.
The Beuys Sophie & Sophie book (as it's really about both of them) isn't as academic as Stollberg-Rillinger, and not nearly as lengthy, either, but it is drier than Ziebura.
I guess in our fictional 18th century envoys get together, we just have come across a new category to compete in: worst posting ever?
Oh, I imagine that would absolutely be a hot topic. I'm reading a biography of Charles Whitworth, British diplomat, and so far he's absolutely hated his Regensburg posting (too much ceremonial at the Imperial Diet; the city was occupied and Diet effectively imprisoned at the beginning of the Seven Years' War), and Moscow (forced intoxication by Peter the Great)!
Re forced intoxication, I give you these passages:
Even when Peter was accessible, Whitworth felt that his own inability to drink heavily would mean he would never become a close confidant of the Tsar. In 1705 he commented on Peter’s ‘robust constitution’ and confided that ‘I despair as much of being a great favourit, as I do of ever becoming a tollerable drinker'.
Nevertheless, Captain John Perry, the English shipbuilder and hydraulic engineer in Russian service, claimed that it was due to Whitworth’s protests that the custom of ensuring that ‘Visitants [were] drunk before they had parted’, to the extent of locking the gates and doors (‘and to set a Guard that no Man should go away before he had his Load’), came to an end, at least amongst foreigners.
I feel like FW-enforced intoxication was more ad hoc and less systematic!
Though to point out the obvious: even if Rottembourg *did* long for FW's Prussia from Spain, it wasn't high praise of FW but more of a "it's a low bar, but you're better than Philip V urinating in bed and thinking he's a frog," imo.
Which made Martin v. K. and after him Kloosterhuis draw the easy conclusion that the meeting in question had taken place in Spain, not France. But it also makes geographical sense if Katte went to Paris, met Rottembourg there, and then went on to London, without the major detour of a trip to Spain!
Yes, that would make sense! And I very much wish we had the original letter or at least the Martin von Katte manuscript.
Also, the otherwise thorough Kloosterhuis clearly didn't trouble to check and compare dates on Philip V. with the story of Katte's visit.
Indeed, but I've caught the otherwise thorough man in a couple other chronological errors too. One is typographical: he gives two different months for Peter Keith's marriage, to the point where I'm not sure which is correct (though I'm inclined to go with the one that has the date, since the author's more likely to have typed that one while looking at it, and the other one from memory). K also, iirc, believes Peter left Wesel as a result of the "Sauvez-vous" letter, which means that not only did K not read/remember Koser refuting that claim, he didn't even notice the contradiction with his own materials. K's the one who includes the inventory of Peter's room on August 7 in his appendices! Not to mention the Mylius report.
I have to say, having a fic plot in my head is awesome: either I will write it someday (increasingly unlikely but still possible), in which case I have a whole lot more material in my head for the brief episode in Spain now, or I won't write it, but I'm still a whole lot more engaged in my reading because I'm paying close attention to specific events. Would I have read two scholarly articles on Spanish diplomacy of the late 1720s if not for my fictional interest in Rottembourg? I would not!
Btw, one of them was interesting enough that I put it in the library (restricted section): it's a good overview of the leadup to the 1729 Treaty of Seville and links together all the events I learned piecemeal. It also provides a different perspective on some of them (like how mad at Rottembourg was Fleury, really?).
ETA: Right, and Kloosterhuis also said Peter's mother had to remind Fritz to bring him back to August, meaning K missed the exchange in the PC where Fritz was having his envoy in Hanover research where Peter was and tell him to come home. So that's 4 minor chronological errors I've now caught K in.
Oh, something that's been bugging me for a while: Newly crowned Fritz asked his Hanoverian envoy to keep the search for Peter discreet. Any thoughts on why?
Also, in keeping of my theme that chronology is not just plot but characterization, the discovery that Katte might not have gone to Madrid is interesting. Given the difficulties of travel in the 18th century, if he did go to Madrid, that demonstrates an attachment to Rottembourg that's really above and beyond. I always explained it as Katte having an early-career crisis and really wanting some advice and a face-to-face talk, maybe a favor, that letters wouldn't suffice for.
My evidence being that he traveled to London on the same trip and considered leaving Prussian service, then let his father talk him into coming back, but got reprimanded by his superior in the army because he'd overstayed his leave. He might really have been trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life, and was desperate to talk to his French mentor. And I let the Madrid trip influence how I thought of the closeness between them. If Katte really met up with him in Paris, then maybe they were still super close, but it's no longer evidence for that, nor for the strength of the apparent crisis.
Maybe Katte traveled somewhere outside of Paris but not so far away, like Alsace or Aachen, who knows. I really wish we had the letter or at least the manuscript--we're playing a game of telephone here.
Oh, another minor chronological point: although Rottembourg had left Berlin in early 1727, he was due to come back, and not until October 1728 did he officially step down as envoy and say he wasn't coming back (the many-volumed series of instructions to French ambassadors is *really* detailed, and I am forever grateful, and understand the English scholar's envy). So Katte might well have set off thinking that he'd get to hang out with R in Berlin again, and only in Paris did he discover that wasn't going to be a thing, so he made a point of looking him up (wherever he was).
Oh, I imagine that would absolutely be a hot topic. I'm reading a biography of Charles Whitworth, British diplomat, and so far he's absolutely hated his Regensburg posting (too much ceremonial at the Imperial Diet; the city was occupied and Diet effectively imprisoned at the beginning of the Seven Years' War), and Moscow (forced intoxication by Peter the Great)!
Re forced intoxication, I give you these passages:
Even when Peter was accessible, Whitworth felt that his own inability to drink heavily would mean he would never become a close confidant of the Tsar. In 1705 he commented on Peter’s ‘robust constitution’ and confided that ‘I despair as much of being a great favourit, as I do of ever becoming a tollerable drinker'.
Nevertheless, Captain John Perry, the English shipbuilder and hydraulic engineer in Russian service, claimed that it was due to Whitworth’s protests that the custom of ensuring that ‘Visitants [were] drunk before they had parted’, to the extent of locking the gates and doors (‘and to set a Guard that no Man should go away before he had his Load’), came to an end, at least amongst foreigners.
I feel like FW-enforced intoxication was more ad hoc and less systematic!
Though to point out the obvious: even if Rottembourg *did* long for FW's Prussia from Spain, it wasn't high praise of FW but more of a "it's a low bar, but you're better than Philip V urinating in bed and thinking he's a frog," imo.
Which made Martin v. K. and after him Kloosterhuis draw the easy conclusion that the meeting in question had taken place in Spain, not France. But it also makes geographical sense if Katte went to Paris, met Rottembourg there, and then went on to London, without the major detour of a trip to Spain!
Yes, that would make sense! And I very much wish we had the original letter or at least the Martin von Katte manuscript.
Also, the otherwise thorough Kloosterhuis clearly didn't trouble to check and compare dates on Philip V. with the story of Katte's visit.
Indeed, but I've caught the otherwise thorough man in a couple other chronological errors too. One is typographical: he gives two different months for Peter Keith's marriage, to the point where I'm not sure which is correct (though I'm inclined to go with the one that has the date, since the author's more likely to have typed that one while looking at it, and the other one from memory). K also, iirc, believes Peter left Wesel as a result of the "Sauvez-vous" letter, which means that not only did K not read/remember Koser refuting that claim, he didn't even notice the contradiction with his own materials. K's the one who includes the inventory of Peter's room on August 7 in his appendices! Not to mention the Mylius report.
I have to say, having a fic plot in my head is awesome: either I will write it someday (increasingly unlikely but still possible), in which case I have a whole lot more material in my head for the brief episode in Spain now, or I won't write it, but I'm still a whole lot more engaged in my reading because I'm paying close attention to specific events. Would I have read two scholarly articles on Spanish diplomacy of the late 1720s if not for my fictional interest in Rottembourg? I would not!
Btw, one of them was interesting enough that I put it in the library (restricted section): it's a good overview of the leadup to the 1729 Treaty of Seville and links together all the events I learned piecemeal. It also provides a different perspective on some of them (like how mad at Rottembourg was Fleury, really?).
ETA: Right, and Kloosterhuis also said Peter's mother had to remind Fritz to bring him back to August, meaning K missed the exchange in the PC where Fritz was having his envoy in Hanover research where Peter was and tell him to come home. So that's 4 minor chronological errors I've now caught K in.
Oh, something that's been bugging me for a while: Newly crowned Fritz asked his Hanoverian envoy to keep the search for Peter discreet. Any thoughts on why?
Also, in keeping of my theme that chronology is not just plot but characterization, the discovery that Katte might not have gone to Madrid is interesting. Given the difficulties of travel in the 18th century, if he did go to Madrid, that demonstrates an attachment to Rottembourg that's really above and beyond. I always explained it as Katte having an early-career crisis and really wanting some advice and a face-to-face talk, maybe a favor, that letters wouldn't suffice for.
My evidence being that he traveled to London on the same trip and considered leaving Prussian service, then let his father talk him into coming back, but got reprimanded by his superior in the army because he'd overstayed his leave. He might really have been trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life, and was desperate to talk to his French mentor. And I let the Madrid trip influence how I thought of the closeness between them. If Katte really met up with him in Paris, then maybe they were still super close, but it's no longer evidence for that, nor for the strength of the apparent crisis.
Maybe Katte traveled somewhere outside of Paris but not so far away, like Alsace or Aachen, who knows. I really wish we had the letter or at least the manuscript--we're playing a game of telephone here.
Oh, another minor chronological point: although Rottembourg had left Berlin in early 1727, he was due to come back, and not until October 1728 did he officially step down as envoy and say he wasn't coming back (the many-volumed series of instructions to French ambassadors is *really* detailed, and I am forever grateful, and understand the English scholar's envy). So Katte might well have set off thinking that he'd get to hang out with R in Berlin again, and only in Paris did he discover that wasn't going to be a thing, so he made a point of looking him up (wherever he was).
Edited 2021-05-28 19:54 (UTC)
Royal readers are so helpful in so many ways. Thank you!
The Beuys Sophie & Sophie book (as it's really about both of them) isn't as academic as Stollberg-Rillinger, and not nearly as lengthy, either, but it is drier than Ziebura.
Pity, I *would* be interested in learning more about them. I might still be able to tolerate it, since it's not 900 pages (I've actually made it about 300 pages into SR!), but won't rush out and buy it.
But it's months till November
And months more from November until German post arrives here! *lolsob*
The Beuys Sophie & Sophie book (as it's really about both of them) isn't as academic as Stollberg-Rillinger, and not nearly as lengthy, either, but it is drier than Ziebura.
Pity, I *would* be interested in learning more about them. I might still be able to tolerate it, since it's not 900 pages (I've actually made it about 300 pages into SR!), but won't rush out and buy it.
But it's months till November
And months more from November until German post arrives here! *lolsob*
What about the French Revolution? Any good readable books in German on that? Having just covered the War of the Spanish Succession and Joseph II, I've now beefed up on 1700-1790, whereas my French Revolution memories are faded outlines of what I used to know, twenty years ago.
(And if you find any readable Joseph II books in June, do let me know. The Blanning volume turned out to be a short treatment focused on a very specific topic, i.e. Joseph's political decisions 1780-1790.)
How's Hahn as an author? I know his books (the ones I've found) are short, at least.
(And if you find any readable Joseph II books in June, do let me know. The Blanning volume turned out to be a short treatment focused on a very specific topic, i.e. Joseph's political decisions 1780-1790.)
How's Hahn as an author? I know his books (the ones I've found) are short, at least.
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