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) )

Page 1 of 14 << [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] >>

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Aaahhh, I love that you chose this quote!

From:

selenak

For reals. A most excellent choice. Though I'm not sure whether the non deceiving of his servants holds up. I mean, clearly not in the incompetent way Louis did, but I'm reminded of Mitchell early on in the 7 Years WAr suspecting Heinrich of being set on negotiating with the French behind Fritz' back to make himself look like the saviour, of stabbing Fritz in the back, and of Voltaire using the fact he and Fritz are pen pals once more to get military secrets from Fritz. Meanwhile: Fritz uses both Heinrich and Wilhelmine to sound out the French behind Mitchell's back for a separate peace, and of course sharing military secrets wasn't even on the menu when he was living with Voltaire, let alone midst-war. I mean, Mitchell wasn't Fritz' servant, he was working for G2, but what I'm getting at is that Fritz with his training in paranoia by FW was quite capable of only sharing selected truths with people who were working for him or in alliance with him.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Yeah, I had a very similar thought. It depends on how you define "deceive"--withholding information is part of management. I have to do it on a daily basis, and it's nothing to do with paranoia. If Fritz *hadn't* ever withheld information from the people working for him, he would have been a disaster! But there are good ways of doing it and bad ways of doing it, and I agree with Broglie that by the standards of absolute monarchs, Louis's way was particularly ineffective--but I agree with you that "deceiving servants" doesn't feel like the real difference.

I'm reminded of Macaulay's "We could make shift to live under a debauchee or a tyrant, but to be ruled by a busybody is more than human nature can bear"--it's a hilarious sound bite, though it's not literally true.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

judging by contemporary reports, Moltke was the *only* one grieving Frederik. Everyone else is ready to *move on*.

Aw. I mean, I can see why, but that's sad. Most people have at least two people who like them enough to grieve! I guess it's not as bad as not having one?

Well, the "judging by contemporary reports" means we're limited to what people wrote about. The feelings of his middle-class mistress, for example, were probably not deemed worthy of inclusion. Was it more than an exchange of sex and nursing for money and prestige? Who can know? What we know is that as a *king*, he was not super popular at court, nor among his immediate family. (His first wife, Louise, might have missed him, but she had died ~15 years before.)

Furthermore, even less did my way of thinking permit me to cause an honest man to lose his office in order that it should be conferred on me.

Awwww, yeah Moltke.

<3

I knew you were going to like this. I like it too! All respect to Moltke.

Of course my burning gossip question is, does this book say anything about Moltke's daughter that Frederik wanted to marry but whom Moltke abruptly married to someone else????

Haha, I love that you have a burning gossip question about Moltke! This is what the book has to say on the matter, google translated for speed with some corrections from me:

What Moltke alluded to with these veiled expressions was nothing less than a proposal from the King that instead of looking for a new spouse abroad, he should marry Moltke's eldest daughter, Catharine Sophie Wilhelmine, who was born in 1737 and in the years 1747-51 had served as lady-in-waiting to Queen Louise, whereby the King had gotten to know her. It was this proposal which left Moltke in deep embarrassment and consternation, as is seen in the quoted passage from the memoirs. On the one hand, the prospect of becoming part of the royal family itself might seem attractive - and when the proposal came from the King himself, it was naturally difficult to refuse. On the other hand, Moltke clearly realized that agreeing to such a marriage would be a transgressive act that would not only put his young, innocent daughter in an extremely difficult situation and probably ruin the rest of her life, but would also mean that he himself would cross the fine line between the role of discreet royal servant and a new identity as a participant in the royal private sphere. And how risky that could be, is clearly illustrated by Struensee's ill fate twenty years later, after he had not only completely taken over Christian VII's government responsibilities, but also displaced him from the royal marriage bed.

It was therefore clear to the realistic-thinking Moltke that these royal plans - however sincere and well-intentioned they were - had to be thwarted at all costs. However, since it was a matter of directly refusing to comply with the expressed wishes of an absolute monarch, when the King disclosed his plans to Moltke in the spring of 1752, he acted quickly and resolutely. At breakneck speed, he arranged for his daughter, only fourteen years old, to be immediately betrothed to the then twenty-year-old patriarch of the county of Wedellsborg, Count Hannibal Wedell-Wedellsborg. The marriage between the unusually young couple took place just a few months later, namely on 16 June 1752, just three weeks before the King's wedding to Juliane Marie. This hastily arranged marriage lasted until Count Hannibal's death in 1766, after which Catharine Sophie Wilhelmine spent her long widowhood, which lasted until her death in 1806, in her father's county of Bregentved.

A. G. Moltke had thus, by a resolute step, not only saved his daughter from a presumably ill fate, but also effectively prevented himself from being forced to cross the invisible boundary, which no one before or since has successfully escaped crossing, namely that which the Royal Act drew around the absolute monarch and his house. He even managed to do it in such a considerate manner that he not only avoided offending the King, but on the contrary, in connection with his grinding with Juliane Marie, received the highest imaginable proof of his continued favor, namely the Order of the Elephant, and with it the dignity of Blue Knight. With the events of the spring fresh in his mind, it was probably no coincidence that he chose the words "Candide et caute" - with sincerity and caution - as his language of choice as an elephant knight - they very precisely denoted both his relationship with the King personally and the nature of the daily balancing act, as it was to ensure the unbroken functionality of the apparatus of power, even if the official center of power - the autocratic monarch - was in practice not fit to lift the burden of governmental responsibility.

Speaking of mottos, as his motto when Frederik's father, Christian VI, made Moltke a member of the Dannebrog order, Moltke chose "constantia et fidelitate." When Frederik became king a few years later, he had to pick a motto. He picked "constantia et prudentia", and as the author points out, embodied *neither* of them, but the echo of Moltke's motto is very clear and probably not accidental. So basically Moltke is picking the mottos here as well as carrying all the weight of embodying them.

Hessian mercenaries: Oh, yeah, I could not have told you they were from a place called Hesse either! They were entirely in my passive memory.

Heinrich and the crown of Poland:

haha what? It's ~~not~~ only halfway true?

The point of salon, I am finding, is that everything we think isn't true (FS supplied Fritz's army!) is true, and everything we think is true isn't (I'm still mourning "she cried but she took"), or is only sort of true.

At least there was a proposal to make Heinrich king of Poland, even if there wasn't a delegation sent for that purpose!

In both accounts, Fritz responds, "He doesn't want to become Catholic."

Me: I... really... find it hard to believe that this is the problem!

Most unconvincing excuse ever given.

I mean... it makes perfect sense to me that he thinks France should be meddling in the affairs of others, but no one else should :D

It does! I'm just calling him on it. :P

Edited Date: 2023-08-03 12:49 am (UTC)

From:

selenak

I think where Broglie and we all agree is that Fritz had an internally consistent policy in mind, and whatever he shared or didn't share with the people working for him all fitted with his ultimate goals. Whereas Louis was internally inconsistent, and that was the disaster.

Now, what could and did happen was trouble with allies, like:

First Silesian War:

Wilhelmine: Good news, Bro! Bayreuth is now joining your war effort we've just signed treaties with the French!
Fritz: Err, I wouldn't, if I were you.
Wilhelmine: .?
Fritz: *has just signed secret truce with MT, hanging the French out to dry*

But not within the Prussian administration.

From:

selenak

Most unconvincing excuse ever given.

FW would like to point out that this title has a strong contender via Katte's declaration that he only aided and abetted Fritz to save him from the marriage to an Austrian Archduchess and the conversion to the Catholic religion.

MT, otoh, thinks Fritz telling FS in a letter he's only invading to protect her and absolutely willing to be her champion takes the price.

Émilie is eying Voltaire's "I'm too fragile and sick to continue having sex with you" with a certain bitterness.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

We are certainly spoiled for choice!

I think I would vote for MT and the gangster with good PR here.

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:

cahn

Though I'm not sure whether the non deceiving of his servants holds up.

Lol, when I read the quote I was like, "well, Fredersdorf mostly knew what he needed to know, sounds legit..."

I HAVE A ONE-TRACK MIND, OKAY

From:

cahn

Haha, I love that you have a burning gossip question about Moltke! This is what the book has to say on the matter

:D And ah, the book also thinks that Moltke thought it was a Very Very Bad Idea for any number of reasons, but also not least that it would be awful for his daughter. Excellent. (I mean, I assume the book thinks this partially because it WOULD, incontrovertibly, have been awful for her, but still.)

From:

selenak

Moltke: shows both Tywin Lannister and Ned Stark how the whole “Hand of the King” thing is properly done if you want to die in bed. Hint: it includes keeping your kids far, far away and unbetrothed to the monarch or their designed successor.

Frederik: but I wanted to be a Weasley, not a Lannister or a Stark!

Now I’ve read only four of the books and seen five some of six of the tv seasons before giving up, but we could play how our 18th century folk would fare in Westeros. Is FW Stannis Baratheon? Do we want to know whether Fritz makes it to the Iron Throne? Will Voltaire survive pissing off both the Sparrow and Melisande at the same time?

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

Moltke: shows both Tywin Lannister and Ned Stark how the whole “Hand of the King” thing is properly done

Ha! So he does.

Frederik: but I wanted to be a Weasley, not a Lannister or a Stark!

Awww. You know, I'm sorry you had a rough childhood and turned into an unhinged alcoholic that nobody wanted married to their daughter, and sorry, Moltke, that you had to deal with an unhinged alcoholic, and glad, Moltke's daughter, that you didn't have to deal with that, even if you did have to get married at 14, which I'm also sorry for. Therapy for everyone! (And popcorn for me as I watch all your dysfunctions from a safe distance.)

Also, reading the bio and watching Moltke do his best to stay in power reinforced my guess that the emotionally unstable monarch suspected Moltke of only being in it for the power, and that some of the drunken outbursts being apologized for were about that: either outright accusing Moltke of not caring about Frederik himself, or attacking Moltke in other ways because Frederik couldn't bring himself to say that out loud. :/

In other Moltke news, I need to improve my Danish at some point, because flipping through later parts of the book shows there is more interesting material. For example, there is a facsimile of a handwritten note from Madame de Pompadour to Moltke, thanking him for a gift and sending a gift in return.

Is FW Stannis Baratheon?

No, because I like Stannis, and I wish to continue liking Stannis, so I'm going to stay far away from any comparisons that might change that. Ssshhh. :P

From:

mildred_of_midgard

I know, I was pleased that the author didn't just take at face value the reasons Moltke could say but noted that there were likely also additional obvious reasons staring him in the face.

(Speaking of true but incomplete reasons, and re our conversation about deceiving your servants, I noted that yesterday that the reasons I gave one of my team members for why I will be attending a particular meeting are technically true, but only about 10% of my real motivation to be in that meeting. It happens!)

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:

mildred_of_midgard

ROFL! I see you have your priorities straight.

From:

selenak

If it’s any comfort: while I think Stannis would have executed Katte (for attempted desertion), I don’t think he would have abused Fritz. Or Gundling. Cruel “pranks”: not his style.

I know you’ve cast the Stuarts as Targaeryns, but all the inbreeding signals Habsburg, too. Otoh, I don’t want to know what any of the 18th century royals would have done with dragons, because they so would have used them in all those wars, and then there’s no more 19th century.

Anyway, personality wise, Robert Baratheon works for BPC, ironically - short peak period of being a charismatic beloved rebel leader, followed by decades of drunken self loathing indulgence and misery with mistress and wife alike.

I still want to know whether you think Fritz, as the head of one of the lesser Houses or a younger son of a big one, would have made a play for the Iron Throne? Or would he have been content to invade, conquer and keep a rich province?

From:

mildred_of_midgard

I know you’ve cast the Stuarts as Targaeryns, but all the inbreeding signals Habsburg, too.

True, but the particular type of inbreeding says Egypt to me, though, with the deliberate brother-sister incest to keep the line pure, as opposed to the repeated political marriages of cousins and uncle/niece, aunt/nephew that hit the Hapsburgs over repeated generations.

Robert Baratheon works for BPC, ironically - short peak period of being a charismatic beloved rebel leader, followed by decades of drunken self loathing indulgence and misery with mistress and wife alike.

Ha! Very true.

I still want to know whether you think Fritz, as the head of one of the lesser Houses or a younger son of a big one, would have made a play for the Iron Throne? Or would he have been content to invade, conquer and keep a rich province?

Alas for your question, it's been too long since I read the books to be able to give a meaningful answer based on the specific power politics of this world.

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

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!)

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

This book never fails to deliver!

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.)