cahn | Historical Characters, Including Frederick the Great, Discussion Post 45

Unfortunately, there was then at Berlin a King who pursued one policy only, who deceived his enemies, but not his servants, and who lied without scruple, but never without necessity.

(from The King's Secret - by Duke de Broglie, grand-nephew of the subject of the book, Comte de Broglie, and grandfather of the physicist) )

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From:

mildred_of_midgard

Before we get into foreign policy, a couple quotes.

Re

selenak's image of the Comte de Broglie as blustery and self-important, his great-nephew wishes to confirm:

[He had] an invincible bent of character which would have made him distasteful to every monarch in the world—a haughty and independent temper, which never let him obey without arguing, or sometimes even murmuring. He disputed his instructions, and had no scruple about modifying them, or exceeding them, without saying anything about it. He spoke his mind freely on every subject, had his own ideas, and prided himself on understanding what he was ordered to do; a lofty pretension which the strange position in which he had been placed by the King's confidence had still further developed. From having to serve two masters who never agreed with each other, Count de Broglie had acquired a habit of trifling with both, and in the bottom of his heart had no respect for either.

France should always top, not bottom:

In short, he believed France to be sufficiently great, and he wished her to be sufficiently dignified, to dictate the terms of the compact, instead of having them dictated to her. In the flourishing times of the English alliance, thirty or forty years ago, Count Metternich said on a certain occasion, with a smile, "The union between France and England is unspeakably useful, and so is that between the man and the horse; but we must be the man, not the horse." This saying pretty nearly expresses what Count de Broglie thought about the Austrian alliance and the Treaty of Versailles.

(Given Metternich was Austrian, I suspected "we" was a translation of an impersonal construction, and indeed, the original French of Le Secret du Roi has "il faut", i.e., "it is necessary to be the man.")

Okay, so! Remember how Comte de Broglie was single-handedly responsible for Lobositz and the Saxon army's decision to take a stand in Saxony during the invasion? He's now about to be almost single-handedly responsible for Kolin too! (Again, I read with several grains of salt.)

So after alienating everyone at Versailles, Comte de Broglie can neither get anyone to take him seriously about his brilliant foreign policy ideas, nor can he get the post he wants: ambassador to Vienna. Instead, he's sent back to the Saxon court (now located in Warsaw because Fritz has kicked them out of Saxony, so he can steal all the porcelain, impress all the soldiers, and watch them desert again).

Broglie asks for clear orders on what to do about the candidate for Polish king. Does France want to support a French candidate, a French or Spanish Bourbon candidate, one of August's sons...who??

In return, he gets incredibly vague answers from both his official boss, the minister of foreign affairs, and his other boss, Louis.

Then we get a digression from the 19th century Duc de Broglie about civil servants and how awesome they are when the middle class knows their place and can't aspire to anything more than invisible service to the crown, and how much better it was in the 18th century. That's our unpopular conservative politician, all right!

Back in 1757, the Comte de Broglie has set out for Warsaw, but first he's gotten permission to do the thing he second most wants to do in the world, after being posted to Vienna, which is visit Vienna and tell everyone what to do. And lo! He finds everyone in a panic because Fritz's is occupying Bohemia and advancing closer to Vienna. Only MT retains her courage.

Since she, in turn, finds that the Comte de Broglie is the only level head around, she consults with him and takes his advice. Which is to send the imperial army to Bohemia to join the army at Prague, combine forces, and attempt to free Prague.

Our Count modestly demurs at the thought of being put in charge of this operation, but since his father (the first Marshal de Broglie) had first taken Prague during the War of the Austrian succession, then defended it in a siege, and the Comte had been present, he is considered something of an expert and finally accepts the commission of directing the armies from Vienna. To explain his delay in setting out for his official post, Warsaw, he writes:

"I am conducting that operation from hence, as much as it is possible to do at a distance, and with generals of limited intelligence, and I could not leave it half done."

That's a little unfair to Daun, says the Duc de Broglie.

That's the guy who thinks if he shows up in America, he will be made Stadtholder upon the instant, says Mildred.

Though the combining of armies never happens, because Fritz marches out to attack, the result is the battle of Kolin. Which MT says she owes to Broglie as much as to Daun, the presiding general who defeated Fritz!

Citation on this seems to be the Comte de Broglie, whom of course I trust utterly.

At any rate, the Comte then proceeds to Warsaw and succeeds in alienating everyone there, apparently by advocating too strongly for the Poles being oppressed by the Saxons. He gets scolded by his boss.

Who is now the new foreign minister, the Abbe de Bernis (a rather more famous figure than his predecessor, and someone I've encountered before). Bernis is one of those enlightened Frenchmen who entered the church and, eventually rose to the rank of cardinal, because it was a lucrative career path and not because he was extremely pious. He befriended Madame de Pompadour, wrote poetry that Voltaire liked, was elected to the Académie française, and used as an envoy.

Finally he became secretary of foreign affairs in June 1757. He won't last long there, because he decides to try to address the wretched finances of France by centralizing control over the treasury, instead of leaving it in the hands of separate ministers to do whatever they want. Both Wikipedia and a serious scholar (Eveline Cruickshanks) I have read say that he acquired powerful enemies, including Pompadour, who benefited from the decentralized approach to money, and they told Louis Bernis was trying to set himself up as prime minister. You may remember Louis, once Cardinal Fleury had died in 1743, said he would act as his own prime minister (thus copying Louis XIV)...which was really a victory for the various ministers/secretaries, since Louis, unlike his predecessor, was not actually acting as his own prime minister.

So Louis, who doesn't want a repeat Richelieu/Mazarin/Fleury, kicks Bernis out of office in 1758.

Meanwhile, though, it's 1757, and Bernis and the Comte de Broglie are butting heads over how to make France come out on top.

Now, Bernis' idea is that France's involvement in the Seven Years' War should be as limited as possible--so the exact opposite of what the "France should always top, not bottom" Comte de Broglie thinks.

As a result, the two men are completely unable to work together. "There is no reason," says our author the Duc de Broglie,

to believe that the vast task in which Bernis failed would have been accomplished by Count de Broglie, but the latter was not of that opinion.

I'll say!

He had a military and diplomatic solution ready for every difficulty, and he longed to be put to the test under which Bernis was breaking down. Between the First Minister, who was driven to despair by the greatness of his rôle, and whose only desire was to reduce it, and the fiery-spirited agent who was quivering with impatience within the narrow limits to which his action was restricted, no mutual understanding could exist.

So while Broglie is pursuing his own policy at Warsaw and alienating the Saxons, he's getting scoldy letters from back home telling him to please stop alienating Brühl from France, you idiot.

Broglie, who only respects his own opinions, is like, "No, no, I have a plan! We'll get the Saxon envoy to St. Petersburg recalled!"

Now,

selenak is probably following the chronology and remembers who was Saxon envoy to St. Petersburg in 1757: Poniatowski!

Zamoyski, whose biography of Poniatowski I am currently reading, tells me that back in 1756, when Poniatowski was first sent by Saxony as ambassador, Broglie first tried to block the appointment, and then, when that didn't work, conspire with Branicki (the Polish Grand General who had defected to the French side) to have Poniatowski kidnapped on his way to St. Petersburg!

Poniatowski gets wind of the ambush ahead, takes a different route, and arrives safely in St. Petersburg, there to change history with Catherine.

Meanwhile, though, by 1758, the Comte de Broglie has managed to conspire with other enemies of Poniatowski and get Brühl to recall Poniatowski.

Speaking of "this sorry personage" (the Duc de Broglie's term for Poniatowski), the ever opinionated Duc wishes to inform you that:

I can best picture him to myself, when, looking back to twenty-five or thirty years ago, to a time when the prejudices of aristocratic Europe against liberal France were at their height, and the Emperor Nicholas was at the head of the crusade of the old régime against the new, I recall the strange impression made upon me in the salons of Paris and at the embassies, by the young Russians who mixed with society there. To hear them talk, to meet them at the theatres, at entertainments, even in the galleries of the legislative assemblies, one would have taken them for Frenchmen by birth as well as in heart--Frenchmen of condition and of the best society. The imitation was perfect, in manners, in dress, in accent, and in conversation. Their clothes were of the latest cut ; they knew the novel of the day by heart ; they discussed contemporary and parliamentary politics with judicious knowledge of persons and even of principles. The words "progress" and "civilisation" were perpetually on their lips. One allowed oneself to be surprised into talking to them with perfect frankness, just as if one stood on a common ground of ideas, sentiments, or interests with them. Then, all of a sudden, a word, a gesture, an unguarded inflection of the voice, revealed that an inveterate enemy of France was speaking. The disappointment was painful, and while one could not help admiring this exact reproduction of foreign and even detested manners and customs, a secret repulsion was caused by that want of individuality and of frankness, of character, and of vigour, which was the inevitable condition of so much facility in the art of imitation.

That was Poniatowski, says the Duc! And the Comte knew it, for:

It might be said, judging from the very hatred with which, in his correspondence, he honours a young man so untried as Poniatowski, that the instinct of his political genius made him aware that in this stage hero there was sufficient feebleness and presumption to lead a country straight to its ruin.

This is definitely the Comte's wise foresight and not at all his abrasive personality that alienates everyone he meets with his contempt, yup.

At any rate, he succeeds! Poniatowski is recalled! He's on the brink of guiding French foreign policy in the direction he wants! And then--

Rossbach!

Not only does the Comte de Broglie lose a brother, but he loses all credibility with the Saxons, who turn more and more toward Russia and support allowing Poland to become a protectorate of the Russians (instead of the French).

Woe! Woe is Comte de Broglie!

He writes many angry letters. Bernis writes to Broglie's uncle:

"There is no managing your nephew...he will do nothing in politics except out of his own head ; he assumes a legislative tone in all his despatches, and in his proceedings there is a harshness and a bitterness which are almost fierce."

As a last resort, the Comte de Broglie writes to Louis XV, advocating for supporting one of August III's Francophilic sons (Xavier) for the throne of Poland, and asking for clarification on whether to support the Russians (his official instructions) or the Poles (the secret instructions), since it's kind of hard to do both right now.

Louis replies, you guessed it, vaguely.

There was nothing to do but ask for his recall, which the Comte de Broglie did. In 1758, he left Warsaw.

He had failed; the whole project was at an end; and with the departure of Count de Broglie the abandonment of Poland was consummated. The impotent notions of the secret diplomacy had only retarded for a day the selfish weakness of the official diplomacy. Such an experience might have sufficed, one would think, to have disgusted Louis XV. with mystery, and his secret Ambassador with confidences, but nothing of the sort was the result. The scene of the secret diplomacy of the King of France was about, on the contrary, to transform and extend itself; and its action, although more varied and strange, was not destined to be either more glorious or more efficacious in the future. This we shall see as we proceed.

And on this cliffhanger, we end this episode, with a new episode as soon as I have leisure to read and write up another chapter. (Keep in mind, I'm reading other relevant works in parallel, like Zamoyski's bio of Poniatowski, and it's looking like I'm going to have to pick up my recently-acquired bio of the Chevalier d'Eon soon, as d'Eon's about to become relevant.)

The fun will continue!

Edited Date: 2023-08-04 08:43 am (UTC)

From:

selenak

so he can steal all the porcelain,

Except for that which Karoline Fredersdorf tells her husband's former secretary to buy (!), as we now know. :)

That's a little unfair to Daun, says the Duc de Broglie.

I'll say. Also it reminds me of Maupertuis evidently telling everyone FS and MT made quite a fuss over him when he was an Austrian POW in early Silesian War time, that FS gave him a golden watch (this I could believe) and MT asked him whether EC was prettier than her (no way) - and that Maupertuis' biographer swallowed that whole. At least the Duc de Broglie vaguely remembers that Daun existed when repeating his ancestor's claim.

(

cahn, bear in mind that Daun already had gotten the better of Fritz (temporarily) in the Second Silesian War, when he essentially got him out of Bohemia by constantly picking strategically great positions and refusing to be drawn into battle while cutting off Fritzian supply lines, so Fritz' "attack attack attack" tactics did not work. According to Ziebura, Teen Heinrich who was in the Second Silesian War as Fritz' AD paid attention, for this informed his own 7 Years War tactics. Anyway, all this happened without Broglie kindly dispensing advice.

Both Broglies bashing Poniatowski: pfff. As said re: would Heinrich have accepted the crown even if the offer had been made to him, King of Poland in the later half of the 18th century was a thankless job, and Poniatowski did the best he could with the cards he was dealt. Also I doubt either Broglie would have lasted five minutes against Catherine the Great. Just saying.

This is all very entertaining, and I continue to admire your write ups!

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Also it reminds me of Maupertuis

It also reminded me of Maupertuis! I had a feeling if I didn't bring up the parallel, you would. :D

bear in mind that Daun already had gotten the better of Fritz (temporarily) in the Second Silesian War, when he essentially got him out of Bohemia by constantly picking strategically great positions and refusing to be drawn into battle while cutting off Fritzian supply lines, so Fritz' "attack attack attack" tactics did not work. According to Ziebura, Teen Heinrich who was in the Second Silesian War as Fritz' AD paid attention, for this informed his own 7 Years War tactics.

That was Traun, though, wasn't it? Not Daun? Yeah, wiki confirms it was Otto Ferdinand Graf von Abensperg und Traun. Still happened without Broglie, though!

King of Poland in the later half of the 18th century was a thankless job

I have just gotten to the part in his bio where saloniste Madame Geoffrin (whom Poniatowski called maman) visited him:

'It is a terrible condition to be king of Poland,' she wrote to D'Alembert on 23 July. 'I dare not tell him how unhappy he seems to me.' She found him overworked and beset by depressing realities.

And that was only 1766, two years into his reign! The civil war and partition haven't even happened yet!

Hell, yes, Heinrich, turn that job down.

Also, being Stanislaw is a thankless job: he was kidnapped as a baby; Broglie and/or Fritz's minister in Poland attempted to kidnap him on his way to St. Petersburg as envoy; and he was kidnapped during the civil war (the one that I am researching) in 1771!

Also I doubt either Broglie would have lasted five minutes against Catherine the Great.

Yeah, I note the Duc saying the Comte wouldn't have done a better job than the French ministers in the Seven Years' War, but the *Comte* certainly thought he would have.

Both Broglies bashing Poniatowski: pfff.

Apparently, they're in a majority: the king who failed to prevent Poland being wiped off the map is highly unpopular among Polish historians and Poles. According to Zamoyski,

When the king's remains were finally laid to rest in the crypt of Warsaw Cathedral on 14 February 1995, in the presence of the President of the Republic and the Primate of Poland, shouts of 'Shame!', 'Shame on you for honouring Catherine's lover!', and 'He was a traitor!' echoed down from the back of the nave.

From:

selenak

Re: Poniatowski's Polish reputation in the 1990s, and undoubtedly for the most part still (given you have a very very VERY right wing nationalist government in power in Poland since years and years): unsuprising, since Poland took a lot of hits from Russia in the intervening years, and he makes a convenient scapegoat. (Also: a man of the Enlightenment who wasn't a particularly good Catholic at the best of times, in a country where being (conservative) Catholic has become even more of a part of the national identity in during the Soviet years. This said, and remember, I read that biography as well when doing my research for my Yuletide story, I got two comments from Poniatowski fans who think I sold him short when only showing him in the story (in absentia, at that) as Catherine's lover, when he did XYZ for Poland, though one of them added they understand because the story has other main characters. I then checked on the Russian translation of the story, and there are Poniatowski friendly comments there as well (one from the same person).

"Das Jahrhundert der Könige" as I recall is Poniatowski friendly as well (while making affectionate fun of his hair care and other bits like that) and see him as tragic. Otoh, the late 19th century introduction to the German edition of Poniatowski's memoirs is judgey because he wasn't a manly resistance hero standing up to Catherine enough and shouldn't have gotten the job, his older brother should have.

Aside from 19th century conceptions of masculinity (and there, Poniatowski who is all "she was my destiny!" "deflowered by Catherine and proud of it!" in his memoirs certainly has the general problem that male lovers of female rulers have from the Earl of Leicester onwards at the latest - not only is it extramarital sex, but it upsets the traditional gender power equation), there's also some very divided, pun not intended, attitude re: the partitions of Poland going on in 19th century German historiography, especially once the Prussians take over. There is a lot of sympathy for the Poles in the first half of the 19th century by the Germans from states not Prussia, and condemnation of Prussia-Austria-Russia for the division. And early in the 1848 Revolution, a lot of those lobby that everyone should team up with the equally rebelling Poles and the restoration of Poland should be declared as one of the goals of a newly unified Germany. But the more Prussian and conservative voices start to dominate at the assembly, the more it's "nah, Prussia and thus the future unified Germany should totally keep the formerly Polish territories" and "the Poles couldn't govern themselves anyway, just look at what happened in the last few examples". I mean, it was academic because the 1848 Revolution in Germany failed in the end and unity wouldn't come for two more decades and then in a very different way, but it's still noteworthy that the Frankfurt Assembly did a 180° on whether or not to support the restoration of Poland, and with that turn came a change from presenting the Poles as noble fellow freedom fighters to "way too emotional for their own good, just look at Poniatowski back in the day".

From:

mildred_of_midgard

remember, I read that biography as well when doing my research for my Yuletide story

I don't think I knew you had read it! I'm not seeing it in salon when I search Zamoyski or in your author's notes.

You must have seen this part, then:

During a gathering at the Primate's, the conversation turned to the unfortunate topic of kings who had been forced into exile and obliged to support themselves, and Stanisław said that he should be extremely embarrassed if he were put to the trial, as he knew no way of earning his livelihood. 'Excuse me, Sir,' said Repnin, 'Your Majesty is still a very good dancer.' 'What should we think if we heard an ambassador tell our king, "If all trades fail, your Majesty may turn dancing-master?" noted the shocked English diplomat.

(

cahn, Repnin is the Russian envoy to Poland, and he is *awful* to Poniatowski, to make sure no one respects Poniatowski enough that P can gather a following that might lead to Poland being independent of Russia.)

selenak, this anecdote reminded me of your favorite story about Friedrich II Hohenstaufen:

When the Great Khan Batu sent messages demanding European rulers to surrender to him or die, and promising that if they did surrender he’d find offices at court for them (this was during the biggest expansion of a the Mongol Empire, when they had already reached the Danube, so no, he wasn’t kidding), Frederick quipped back that if needs must he did have some skills as a falconer.

"Das Jahrhundert der Könige" as I recall is Poniatowski friendly as well

Yes, I remember it that way too, and that chapter is on my list of things to reread.

From:

cahn

'Excuse me, Sir,' said Repnin, 'Your Majesty is still a very good dancer.' 'What should we think if we heard an ambassador tell our king, "If all trades fail, your Majesty may turn dancing-master?" noted the shocked English diplomat.

haha, this is great.

Are we talking about The Last King of Poland? And more to the point, should I read it once I've finished Massie? :)

(And, if the answer is yes, could I get an e-copy once I've bought a hard copy? It doesn't look like it's available in e-copy as far as I can tell from amazon, and I have now found that nonfiction works quite a bit better for me in e-copy.)

From:

mildred_of_midgard

That's the book I'm talking about; I'm assuming it's the book Selena's talking about.

Whether you should read it next depends on what you're looking for. If you're looking for a very engaging and accessible bio, Mike Duncan's Lafayette. If a slightly less outstanding but still very readable bio, Blanning. If you really want to know more about Poniatowski, then this one is fine, it's just not something I would go out of my way to recommend for its engaging style. It's certainly informative and readable.

If you do end up buying a copy, let me know, and yes, I'm happy to pass on my digitized copy for reading (there is indeed no Kindle and I had to order a book and scan it). There is one digital copy on archive.org, but I kind of hate the interface, and I think maybe you want to read without internet access?

Btw, remember how Poniatowski wrote this self-portrait:

I would be content with my figure if I was an inch taller and had more beautifully shaped legs, not such a pronounced beak of a nose, less hips, a sharper gaze and more pronounced teeth.

and Lehndorff wrote:

He is the most charming and witty man his kingdom has to offer, and he has a nice figure besides.

and Selena wrote:

See, Lehndorff is deeply appreciative of your legs and hips just as they are, P!

? Well, per Zamoyski, Hanbury-Williams agreed with Poniatowski, I'm afraid:

Williams opined in a pen-portrait composed a couple of years later. He considered that while 'the head is fine', his face was a little too pale, that his hips are too wide and his leg not well turned'. But he pointed out that Stanisław was extremely clean, dressed well, and looked like a lord. 'He has contrived to improve on all the good things that Nature has given him and to correct or hide all that was not to his advantage, and as a result can pass for a handsome man,' Williams affirmed. 'He is not built to dance well, yet he dances well.'

Also, I guess we're all in agreement about the dancing!

From:

selenak

LOL, well, Lehndorff is the guy who called Heinrich beautiful. (Also, given his own handicap, persumably his standard as to legs was a bit looser? Then again, presumably Poniatowski got his male figure standards from Hanbury-Williams, the later being his mentor and all? Either way, 18th century portraits make it hard to tell if anyone has good legs, because fashion - other than in riding clothes or military uniform - didn't emphasize them, plus of course there was flattery. I mean, Poniatowski's official coronation portrait was this:

Whereas this more symbolic (hourglass indeed!) and melancholic portrait doesn't show his legs at all:

mildred_of_midgard - Date: 2023-08-26 11:29 pm (UTC) - Expand

Re: Poniatowski: Hot or Not

From:

cahn - Date: 2023-08-12 05:31 am (UTC) - Expand

Re: Poniatowski: Hot or Not

From:

mildred_of_midgard - Date: 2023-08-12 01:21 pm (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Then again, presumably Poniatowski got his male figure standards from Hanbury-Williams, the later being his mentor and all?

Yeah, what strikes me is that Poniatowski says "less hips, more beautifully shaped legs" and H-W says "hips too wide, leg not well turned." That could just be the same societal standard...but it does sound suspiciously like Poniatowski asked H-W for a "hot or not" on his own body. ;) OTOH, "the head is fine" vs. "pronounced beak of a nose", so maybe the similar parts are just from living in the same society.

From:

selenak

From:

selenak - Date: 2023-08-11 01:29 pm (UTC) - Expand

Re: The King's Secret: fighting Fritz

From:

mildred_of_midgard - Date: 2023-08-11 02:49 pm (UTC) - Expand

Re: The King's Secret: fighting Fritz

From:

cahn - Date: 2023-08-12 05:41 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

I certainly wouldn't have thought that it was worse than falconer!

Stop me if I'm wrong,

selenak, but my impression is that falconer at a medieval royal court would have been a courtier's job, i.e. a nobleman's, whereas dancing master is middle class. If the conquering emperor is distributing jobs to formerly reigning monarchs who are now courtiers, falconer would have been one of them.

There's also the part where this is Friedrich making a quip about himself, and not being treated disrespectfully by an envoy.

(I have just gotten up to the part in the podcast where Dirk is talking about De arte venandi cum avibus, funnily enough. I need to finish the stupor mundi parts so I can go back to the Hanseatic League episodes! (There has been some skipping around, as is my wont.))

Re: The King's Secret: fighting Fritz

From:

selenak - Date: 2023-08-12 10:58 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

This said, and remember, I read that biography as well when doing my research for my Yuletide story

I have now come across two scholars saying that Zamoyski misdates letters: Horowski and Richard Butterwick (and Butterwick is a professor of history at University College London). Butterwick says he's silently corrected these mistakes and not burdened the footnotes by enumerating them (wow, there must have been a lot), and Horowski gives only one example: the mid-1762 letter where Catherine tells Poniatowski not to come to St. Petersburg:

'I beg you earnestly not to hasten here, as your presence in these circumstances. It would be perilous for you and very harmful to me.'

Zamoyski dates it to July 10, i.e. shortly before the coup to overthrow Peter III; Butterwick says it dates to after the coup.

Sadly, I have no other examples, so all I can give is a general warning not to put too much weigh on Zamoyski's dating.

Speaking of misdatings, I saw that Beales occasionally takes issue with Arneth's dates, so it's *possible* that Droysen is correct and Cobenzl's reports on Wilhelmine's statements about Fritz date to 1744 rather than 1743. But, on the other hand, Droysen doesn't say anything explicitly about disagreeing with Arneth, so it's also possible 1744 was a simple misprint.

(1768-1772 foreign policy research continues apace, as you can see.)

From:

cahn

Both Broglies bashing Poniatowski: pfff. As said re: would Heinrich have accepted the crown even if the offer had been made to him, King of Poland in the later half of the 18th century was a thankless job, and Poniatowski did the best he could with the cards he was dealt. Also I doubt either Broglie would have lasted five minutes against Catherine the Great. Just saying.

I've definitely got the impression from salon that Poniatowski was a kind of tragic hero who really did the best he could :( <3

(I'm finally going back to Massie, which is also making me a Poniatowski stan <3 )

From:

mildred_of_midgard

From yet another book courtesy of Amazon algorithms:

[Poniatowski] was often vilified as a tool of the Russians. However, his position was impossibly difficult, and he has more recently been given credit for his efforts on behalf of his country.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

I was on my phone last night and it was inconvenient to name the book I was citing, which was Polish Armies of the Partitions 1770-94, part of the Osprey series of military history books that I like.

In other news from flipping through books, I am *attempting* to read the 18th century essays from The Polish-Lithuanian Monarchy in European Context, but the performance of the Perlego interface has degenerated back to where it was a year ago, after having improved slightly, and it's basically unusable, so I've ordered a physical copy. However, I managed to make it far enough to discover this passage:

In earlier historiography it is often repeated that [August the Strong] proposed the partition of the Commonwealth and the creation of a Wettin legacy from a part of it. The latest archival research does not confirm this but shows instead that such proposals were continually put forward by the Prussian court. Prussian diplomacy was riddled with ruses presenting its plans as propositions from Augustus II.

You may remember that I myself have repeated this claim in salon (both versions, actually, that Prussia proposed it and that August the Strong proposed it). You may *also* remember that Fritz proposed a partition in 1769 saying he got the idea from Count Lynar, and that at least one scholar says there is no record of this in Lynar's papers.

I also, in yet another book that turned out to be amazingly informative--Russia and the Outbreak of the Seven Years' War--read that Fritz, circa 1753-1755, was extremely interested in an alliance with GB, but refused to act interested because he wanted them to make the first move (as indeed happened).

I am *increasingly* convinced that his whole "No, Heinrich, let us not partition Poland, for the Russians will object" was a ploy to mean "Let us not look like we want to partition Poland, but let us play coy so that we can totally get a piece of Poland without starting a 3-and-a-half-front war." *Not* that he told Heinrich that--I agree with Volz there. But I am seeing a consistent theme here of "trying to get what you want by not acting overly interested," and I think Volz took the exchange at face value.

(Ha, look at me not taking something at face value for once. :P)

Updates for those eagerly awaiting the next installment of our Broglie drama: I am currently taking notes on foreign policy from Russia and the Outbreak of the Seven Years' War and The Russo-Turkish War, as well as reading the Chevalier d'Eon bio up through the parts where it overlaps with the secret diplomacy of Broglie (I have gotten halfway through the Poniatowski bio by doing the same, and have set it down for now), and then I plan to return to Broglie once I have some points of comparison.

My Brühl bio also arrived yesterday, so that will give me some German practice and may distract from Broglie, but I have not forgotten! (Still trying to get my hands on the August III bio by the revisionist historian, but that may have to wait until Royal Patron gets back to UCLA end of next month and can scan the library's copy. We have Royal Patron to thank for the King's Secret, btw.)

Btw, said revisionist historian, who is a Pole who spent a lot of time in the Dresden archives, is the citation for the claim that August II never proposed a partition and that was all Prussian gangsters seeking good PR, so I'm inclined to give the claim some credibility.

From:

cahn

Since she, in turn, finds that the Comte de Broglie is the only level head around, she consults with him and takes his advice.

Wow, this is all just... something!

"There is no reason," says our author the Duc de Broglie,

"to believe that the vast task in which Bernis failed would have been accomplished by Count de Broglie, but the latter was not of that opinion."

Heee.

Then, all of a sudden, a word, a gesture, an unguarded inflection of the voice, revealed that an inveterate enemy of France was speaking. The disappointment was painful, and while one could not help admiring this exact reproduction of foreign and even detested manners and customs, a secret repulsion was caused by that want of individuality and of frankness, of character, and of vigour, which was the inevitable condition of so much facility in the art of imitation.

...wow! (I mean, I can believe that he's onto something there. But still... wow!)