cahn | Historical Characters, Including Frederick the Great, Discussion Post 47

We haven't had a new post since before December 25, so obligatory Yuletide link to this hilarious story of Frederick the Great babysitting his bratty little brother, with bonus Fritz/Fredersdorf!

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From:

selenak

A small but handy volume consisting of a lengthy analysis and then the letters themselves, plus the poem "Phoenix" which many a historian thinks was meant to be about James' first love, Esme Stuart. The other Jamesian writings as well as letters to him are what few letters of his to Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset survive, plus the far better preserved correspondence between him and Buckingham, where we also have Buckingham's letters.

Esme Stuart, whom James made Earl of Lennox, is something of the outlier here, because the other two were young when James was in his 40s and 50s, whereas here James was a teenager (13 or 14, depending on the source) when distant cousin Esmé came into his life, and 16 when Esmé was forcibly taken away from him, while Esmé was a married man in his 30s with wife and kids, all of whom remained in France during his time with James.

As Bergeron points out, the other difference is that due to James' horror show of a childhood - four different regents, very strict and abusive teachers, one dead and one imprisoned parent, both of whom were presented to him as awful, he was a love starved teenager, and Esmé Stuart basically become everything to him. His first love, yes, but also his replacement parent. This intermingling of the erotic and the parent/child is something James later reproduces with Buckingham where he repeatedly in his letters intermingles husband/wife and father/child comparisons and signs himself "your Dad" (thus proving the Dad designation is that old in English) as often as anything else, and not just in the letters he writes to Buckingham and Charles both when they're on tour on their disaster trip to Spain. It's Freudian as hell but understandable under the circumstances.

Esmé, like all of James' later favourites, quickly became hated and resented by the nobility, but the Scottish way of dealing with this wasn't impeachment or pamphlets, it was kidnapping James at knife point and kicking Esmé out of the kingdom. He returned to France where he died not that long thereafter. It's all very heartbreaking from James' pov - and contributed to his life long justified paranoia re: conspiracies against him - , but it's worth bearing in mind Esmé when in power had not been an innocent lamb. He'd gotten rid of the Earl of Morton, the then current Regent, by a very obviously trumped up charge that Morton had been involved in the murder of James' late father, the unlamented Darnley, and had him executed. Given all the political murders in Scotland in that era, it's more a miracle Esmé wasn't killed himself.

Also: the constant turnover of Regents and the fact during James' childhood and youth Scotland had become near ungovernable and that kidnapping the young King at knife point was a thing is important to remember, as the fact that when James, in his late 30s, became King of England, he left behind a Scotland where he had been in the undisputed ruler and where the nobility had stopped their murderous power games illustrates his reputation as a weakling who was totally under his fave's thumb which he had until the 20th century is not deserved. He didn't solve all of Scotland's problems - from a monarchical pov - notably not the ascendency of the Kirk which, far more than the nobles, became THE alternative power in Scotland especially once James was off in England -, but he had done what his mother did not manage, taken a country ridden with murderous feuding and civil war like conditions and deep internal divisions and unified it. That James imagined he could pull off that hat trick again with both England and Ireland and unify all three under his rule had something to do with that.

Back to homoerotic desire. As an example of how homophobia far beyond James' lifetime shaped James' image, Bergeron quotes a disapproving 20th century historian, McElwee, who wrote upon the entry of Robert Carr into James' life: (James began)to treat Carr in public with the same exaggarated, gross affection as in private, and what had already been a little odd in a sixteen year-old-boy when he was worshipping at the shrine of Esmé Stuart, became grotesque in the milddle-aged man. He appeared everywhere with his arm around Carr's neck, constantly kissed and fondled him, lovingly feeling the texture of the expensive suits he chose and bought for him, pinching his scheeks and smoothing his hair. (The sources for this, are the trio of vengeful Stuart memoirists: Anthony Weldon, who was fired by James after talking trash about the Scots in print, Arthur Wilson, who was Bob of Essex' secretary, and Francis Osborne, who was Master of the Horse to the Earl of Pembroke, one of the leaders of the anti Somerset faction.)

In his big write up, Bergeron also quotes amply from Overbury's letters, making a case for Oberbury being seen as competition by James in a way Frances was not. Also, Overbury definitely threatens Somerset in these letters: All I intreet of you is, that you will free me from this place, and that we may part friends Drive me not to extremities, lest I should say something that you and I both repent. And if Carr/Somerset does not comply, then people shall know what words have passed betwixt us heretofore of another Nature than these.

Question: given that Overbury himself claims to have written Carr's first few love letters to Frances before Carr really fell in love with her, what are the chances he wrote some to James as well, and that's one of the things he's threatening to reveal?

Anyway, as I said, most of the James/Somerset letters are gone, courtesy of Francis Bacon, but one written after their enstrangement has already started but before Carr/Somerset got arrested still survives. This is when the anti Somerset alliance has launched George Villiers, future Buckingham, and a panicked Somerset is blocking George Villiers' appointment to the bedchamber and throwing jealous tantrums, which given he himself hasn't shown up for bedchamber duty for a while, James finds most unjust. First he ressures Carr of his continued affection:

I must ingenuously confess ye have deserved more trust and confidence of me than ever man did: in secrecy above all flesh, in feeling and unpartial respect, as well to my honnour in every degree as to my profit.

Then he gets to the problem from his pov: (T)his strange frenzy took you, sp powdered and mixed with strange streams of unqietness, passion, fury and sinsolent pride, and (which is worst of allL) with a settled kind of induced obstinancy as it chokes and obscures all these excellent and good parts that God hath bestowed upon you. For although I confess the greatness of that trust and privay betwixt us will very well allow unto you an infinitely great liberty and freedom of speech unto me, yea even to rebuke me more sharply and bitterly than every my master durst do, yet to invent a new art of railing upon me, nay to borrow the tongue of the devil, that cannot come within the compass of any liberty of friendship. (...) I leave out of this reckoning your long creeping back and withdrawing yourself from lying in my chamber, notwithstanding my many hundred times earnest soliciting you to the contrary, accounting that but as a point of ukindness. Now whether all your great parts and merits be not accompanied with a sour and distateful souce, yourself shall be judge.

Once Carr/Somerset is out of the picture, Buckingham reigns supreme and will do so for the remainder of James' life, not least because he handles the various attempts to dislodge him by dangling a new handsome guy in front of James the way Buckingham himself was dangled to remove Somerset ever so much better. (Reminder, he doesn't throw jealous tantrums, he does nothing about the young men, he goes after their sponsors instead.)

Now, Buckingham's initial attraction was that he must have been sex on legs, as evidenced by the fact far more people than James raved about his physical attractions. Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, the guy who went into exile with young Charles the technically II, later came back and was Chancellor until ousted, and who wrote the first defining history of the Civil War, has of course known Buckingham in his time as Charles' favourite, years later, and still describes him as the handsomest man of the kingdom. William Laud, who became Archbishop of Canterbury under Charles I. and had started out as Buckingham's chaplain, records a dream about the then Duke of Buckingham coming to his bed. And absolutely no one at the time seems to have been in doubt as to the nature of the relationship between Buckingham and James. Writes one John Oglander, who as opposed to the trio of angry memoirists is actually pro James: (James) loved young men, his favourites, better than women, loving them beyond the love of men to women. I never saw any fond husband make so much or so great a dalliance over his beautiful spouse as I have seen King James over his favourites, especially the Duke of Buckingham.

When Queen Anne agreed to promote him, she supposedly warned the then Archbishop of Canterbury, George Abbot, that Buckingham could become a second Somerset but that they'd find it far harder to dislodge him, and Abbot just declared nah, Buckingham is such a nice modest young man, he'll just do as he's told. Of course, Abbot was wrong and Anne was right. She still doesn't seem to have hated Buckingham the way she disliked Carr. It's worth pointing out that this, as well as Charles' affection for Buckingham and even a part of James' feelings (see above re: the intermingling of the erotic with the family) might also have had something to do with the loss of Henry, James' and Anne's oldest son. Anne never got over it. Charles seems to have had a good relationship to his older brother as opposed to resenting him for being the golden boy and fave; when Henry was sick and dying, Charles brought him a bronze horse Henry had liked to play with as a boy, to cheer him up, and Charles still had that horse three decades later when on the run from Parliament. So the charming, dashing George Villiers might have been a bit of an adopted son/brother to deal with the loss of Henry, which was still relatively fresh when he showed up, in addition to everything else.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Thank you for this!

This intermingling of the erotic and the parent/child is something James later reproduces with Buckingham where he repeatedly in his letters intermingles husband/wife and father/child comparisons and signs himself "your Dad" (thus proving the Dad designation is that old in English) as often as anything else, and not just in the letters he writes to Buckingham and Charles both when they're on tour on their disaster trip to Spain. It's Freudian as hell but understandable under the circumstances.

Also thank you for repeating this and thus reminding me that I meant to tell

cahn that Catherine and Potemkin also mingled husband/wife and parent/child comparisons. Catherine addresesd him as "Father and husband" a lot in her letters, and she was 10 years older than he was! He called her "Matushka", but that's the technical, deferential term for the czarina in Russian, so jury still out on Freudian implications. :P

However, as time went on, Potemkin spent more and more of his time on campaign (often in the Crimea) and Catherine was all "I have NEEDS!", she started taking younger lovers. Without giving up Potemkin. She would have one official lover (maîtresse en titre, as it were) in addition to Potemkin, and she would be having sex with him but also channeling her maternal needs* into him. And they all definitely used language wherein Catherine was the mother, Potemkin was the father, and Current Lover was their child.

Meanwhile, Potemkin was having sex on the side too, including with his nieces.

* Remember that Elizaveta took Paul away from Catherine at birth, and mother and son never bonded. And Paul identified with his murdered father and blamed his mother for his death. So she had a lot of unmet needs to channel there.

Oh, speaking of endearments, one thing I meant to report when I wrote up August III was this bit. Between the unclear pronoun references and the fact that my reading is not what I would expect, I'm not 100% sure of my reading, so can you double check me,

selenak

But he definitely was sex on legs, and because we have far more letters between him and James, we can tell. There's also the temperamental attraction, because Buckingham in his letters comes across as affectionate, playful and teasing, not jealous or demanding. He never forgets their difference in station, though. There's a lot of master/servant kink going on, and also posing as James' dog. (This isn't just a James but a period thing, you get it in some Elizabethan poetry as well.) And as mentioned elswhere, in the letters when Buckingham is travelling with Charles, James keeps reporting on how "Kate and Mall" (Buckingham's wife and little daughter) are doing, and sounds genuinely fond of them, not seeing them in any way as competition. He also repeatedly mentions Buckingham's miniature portrait he keeps with him ("I am wearing Steenie's picture" - "Steenie" was James' nickname for Buckingham, which Charles later used as well).

The two most famous and explicit passages from Buckingham's letters to James are these:

All the way here I entertained myself your unworthy servant with this dispute, whether you loved me now (my ever dear master, here give me leave to say, a full heart must either vent itself or break and that oftentimes the senses are better expressed in absence and by letter than otherwise; you know full thoughts cause long parentheses) etter than at the time which I shall never forget at Farnham, where the bed's head could not be fouond between the masaater and his dog.

"Dear Dad and Gossip,
Though I have received three or four letters from you since that I writ last to you, yet, as Tom Badger says, I am not ehind-hand with you; for I have made a hundred answers to them in my mind, yet none that could satisfy my mind, for kinder letters never servant received from master. And for so great a king to descend so low, as to his humblest slave and servant to communicate himself in a style of such good fellowship, with expressions of more care than servants have of masters, of more tenderness than fathers have of children, of more friendship than between equals, o fmore affection than between lovers in the best kind, man and wife; what can I return? NOthing but silence. For if I speak, I must be saucy, and say thus, or short of what is due: my purveyor, my good fellow, my physician, my maker, my friend, my father, my all. I heartily and humbly thank you for all you do, and all I have.Now, tell me whether I have not done discreetly to be silent all this while? It's time I should be so again, or else commit a fault, in wearying him that never wearies to do me good.

And this one, which is a PS by Buckingham to a letter written by Charles in both their names to James from Spain:

Sir, I have been the willinger to let your son play the Secretary at this time of little need, that you may thereby see the extraordinary care he hath of me, for which I will not intreat you not to love him the worse, nor him that threatens you, that when he once gets hold of your bedpost again, never to quit it. Your Majesty's most humble slave and dog, Steenie.

As for James, here's an example of the mixture of paternal and erotic, complete with concern for the newly pregnant Kate (and a reminder, Anne had suffered through various stillbirths in addition to the seven children she carried to full term, only to lose all but three, so James knows what he's talking about):

My only sweet and dear child, the Lord of Heaven bless thee this morning and thy thing my daughter and the sweet little thing that is in her belly. I pray thee, as thou loves me, make her precisely observe these rules; let her never go in a coach upon the street, nor never go fast in it; let your mother keep all hasty news from coming to her ears; let her not eat too much fruit, and hasten her out of London after we are gone. If though be back by four in the afternoon, it will be a good time. And prepare thee to be a guard to me for keeping my back unbroken with business before my going to the progress. And thus God send me a joyfuil and a happy meeting with my sweet Steenie this evening.

or

And so God bless thee, my sweet Steenie, and send thee a quick and happy return, with my sweet baby, in the arms of thy dear dad and steward.

or

And yet I cannot content myself without sending you this present, praying God that I may have a joyful and comfortable meeting with you and that we may make aat this Christmas a new marriage ever to be kept herafter; for, God so love me, as I desire only to live in this world for your sake, and that I had rather live banished in any part of the earth with you than live a sorrowful widow's life without you. And so God bless you, my sweet child and wife, and grant that ye may ever be a comfort to your dear dad and husband, James R.

Edited Date: 2024-01-14 08:53 am (UTC)

From:

cahn

And so God bless you, my sweet child and wife, and grant that ye may ever be a comfort to your dear dad and husband, James R.

This is all making my eyes cross a little! Freudian as hell, indeed.

From:

aella_irene

I don't know how many of you have tumblr accounts, but while I didn't manage to post about the Best Hapsburg Ruler tournament in time, the Best Hohenzollern Ruler is still ongoing, as are other tournaments for Bourbons, Romanovs and so-on. The Napoleonic Sexyman Tournament approaches.

mildred_of_midgard

I'm not really equipped to talk about Turkey/the Ottoman Empire per se, but I can talk about how it relates to Austria in this period.

Again our map:

In olden times, the Ottomans, being non-Christians, were THE enemy of the Habsburgs. When Eugene of Savoy defected from France and went to work for Austria, Austria was at war with Turkey and in very real danger. There was a siege of Vienna that became part of the national identity.

Also, even if you weren't a Habsburg with a long history of enmity against the Turks, if you were a European power, you still didn't have a long history of alliances with them. Islamic law had always been interpreted to mean that alliances on an equal basis with unbelievers were right out, and Christians couldn't bring themselves to ally with Muslim Turks either. Turks and Christian European powers would have diplomatic representation at each others' courts, the French were quite happy to bribe them to attack mutual enemy Austria, but there were no formal alliances until the 18th century. In the 18th century, two factors had changed: the Ottoman empire had weakened enough that it was no longer THE main otherized enemy, and the Enlightenment had made raison d'état a more important consideration than religion. In 1740, Sweden became the first European power to form an official alliance with the Ottomans.

To Kaunitz, who was a product of the Enlightenment, there was no question that alliances with the Turks should be made whenever self-interest dictated it. To MT, more conservative, preserving the ancient traditions of the Habsburgs and being a good Catholic were more important, but even she finally came around.

The first alliance between the two countries was proposed by the Turks in late 1768, when they were declaring war on Russia. They proposed that the Ottoman Empire, Austria, and Prussia get together to kick the Russians out of Poland. The Prussians and Austrians declined. Then, in March 1770, the Ottomans proposed that they and Austria should kick the Russians out of Poland and either elect a new Polish king or partition the country between Austria and Poland. That also didn't pan out. The triumvirate decided to push for Austrian mediation between Turkey and Russia.

Then 1770 happened. You may recall that that was the year of Russia's string of victories against the Ottomans, crushing the Ottoman navy, etc.

By the start of 1771, an alarmed Austria was ready to move. They began arming and stationing troops in Hungary, in preparation for war, and they began to revisit those Turkish proposals of alliance.

Kaunitz proposes that the Ottomans give the Austrians money, lots of money, to make military demonstrations that will convince Catherine and Frederick that they're serious about going to war, and then Frederick will pressure Catherine to make peace on acceptable terms.

Kaunitz: We're not going to call it an alliance, though! Also, it's going to be completely secret. If Fritz finds out, it'll just push him closer to Russia. And the other European courts aren't going to like it either.

Turks: Okay. So you want money and territory. We want a firm commitment to military action against Russia.

Kaunitz: Well, um, we're prepared to help you negotiate a peace treaty that will leave you with the smallest possible losses!

Turks: Numbers of men you will commit and timeline?

Thugut, the Austrian ambassador in Constantinople: Kaunitz, don't worry, I got this!

Negotiations: *ensue*

Thugut: *plays hardball*

Thugut: Look what I did! We get land back we lost in the last war, we get "most favored nation" status on the Black Sea, and lots of money. In return, I only committed us to helping out via negotiations or arms–note the 'or'!

MT: This seems unethical. It's like we're tricking the Turks into signing this by hoping they won't notice.

Kaunitz: Exactly! I vote we sign the treaty and promote this A+ diplomat.

MT: I still have reservations, but okay.

MT: *signs treaty, promotes Thugut*

Turkish money: *starts to arrive in Vienna*

Turks: *start to notice the Austrians aren't doing anything diplomatically or militarily*

Turks: *start to smell a rat*

Mid 1771:

Kaunitz: So, I've come to the conclusion that the most productive line of action here would be not to go to war with Catherine and potentially Fritz, but to negotiate with them, especially as they seem to be plotting a land grab. We could get in on this land grab!

Catherine: Okay, let's make a secret agreement. Instead of keeping Wallachia and Moldavia, Russia will give them back to the Turks, and you can join me and Fritz in partitioning Poland.

Kaunitz: Great! That means we don't have to go to war with you in return for a piece of Wallachia, and we can get free territory instead.

MT: What about our agreement with the Turks?

Kaunitz: Look, you know how Fritz said it would be super easy for us to dredge up some old claim in Poland? It'll be super easy for us to find some loopholes in this treaty. We have an A+ diplomat in Constantinople, remember?

MT: You were never intending to keep your word!

Kaunitz: I was hedging my bets, calm down. Now do you want to partition Poland or not?

MT: No, but I guess it's better than partitioning the Ottoman Empire, which was your other idea.

To her, acquisition of territory belonging to a neighbor whom she had formally promised to protect was a violation of honor among states and, worse yet, smacked of the kind of thing Frederick II would do.

MT quote:

We want to act like the Prussians and at the same time retain the appearance of honesty.

Mildred: Yes, your son Joseph will later be very disappointed that partitioning Poland will give people the "mistaken" impression that he's not an honest man.

Turks: *are outraged*

Turks: Thugut, you need to come up with some wording that will make it so we don't have execute all our ministers who arranged this treaty.

Thugut: God, you guys are hardcore. Okay, how about this. "Although Vienna [has] found it impossible to declare war on Russia, it [will] continue to exert every effort in the forthcoming negotiations to keep Moldavia, Walachia, and the Crimea in Ottoman hands. In other words, it [will] fulfill all of its obligations under the articles of the convention, short of war." [Quoted from Roider, Austria and the Eastern Question.]

Turks: That will do.

Thugut: Also, can we keep the money you gave us? As a sign of "trust, friendship, and thanks"?

Turks: What the–?!

Turks: Fine.

Kaunitz: See? A+ diplomat!

Turks: We're starting the negotiations with Russia, though, and we are pointedly EXCLUDING you! Prussia can come.

Kaunitz: Perfect! Since us coming was part of the treaty, that means you're not adhering to your obligations, which absolves us of our responsibility. Plus, no matter how it turns out for you, now it's not our fault!

[Mildred: I enjoy the logic of "We're breaking the treaty." "Fine. Then we don't have to keep our end up, either." "Wonderful, that means neither do we!" Politics.]

Thugut: Though we are in fact pleased with this outcome, technically honor demands that I register a complaint that this is an insult against Austria.

To Thugut's surprise, the grand vizier had replied to this routine statement by emptying "the full pot of his political-logical bile against the inconsistent, now pro-Turkish, now pro-Russian, now pro-Polish, now anti-Polish, now neutral Viennese policy."

Thugut and Kaunitz: We are shocked. Shocked, I tell you.

MT: What did I say about acting like Prussians?

Less successful than its Turkish negotiations for Austria was the outcome of the First Polish Partition. Austria got the most land, but:

The new province had no history as a self-contained entity, nor was it defined by any natural or cultural borders; it was purely and simply the product of political deal-making. It was named Galicia and Lodomeria in reference to supposedly ancient Hungarian claims to the principalities of Halych and Vladimir, claims that the court librarian Franz Adam Kollár had reconstructed from archival evidence to give the annexation a veneer of historical tradition and legality.

This is why, in the last post, I had MT predicting and Kaunitz admitting with hindsight that this was a bad move even by the standards of realpolitik.

From:

selenak

It was, but it meant that Billy Wilder, Paul Celan and Rose Ausländer were all born as Austrian citizens. A plus cultural contribution to the world in the film directing and poetry department! (Billy Wilder's hometown, Paul Celan's and Rose Ausländer's hometown (nicknamed "Little Vienna", no less).

More seriously, that was a great write up. Listening to the History of Byzantium podcast where the Turks are the up and coming power makes for a great contrast. (Also, the Byzantine Emperors while fighting with them also made deals with them, much to the confusion and disgust of the Western European Crusaders, who didn't get that if you live next door to someone you have diplomatic relations as well as war like ones and a constant swap over of population and employees.)

ETA:

cahn, re: the changed Austrian attitude towards the Turks in general, see also the 1782 Entführung aus dem Serail, which takes advantage of, as Catarina tells Salieri in the movie, anything Turkish having become very fashionable. :)

Edited Date: 2024-01-15 07:46 am (UTC)

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: Austria: Relations with the Turks

From:

cahn - Date: 2024-01-18 03:51 am (UTC) - Expand

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: Austria: Relations with the Turks

From:

selenak - Date: 2024-01-18 07:59 am (UTC) - Expand

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: Austria: Relations with the Turks

From:

cahn - Date: 2024-01-18 03:50 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Having worked my way through the first batch of letters (in French), the second batch (in German, all formalities, nothing to report), we are back to French letters. "Fritz, c'est le Prince," is still to come, but for now, enjoy Løvenørn feeling sorry for Doris Ritter:

After my previous relation, I just learned |: something that modesty would not have allowed me to include, even if I had known it before :| that the King had the girl in question from Potsdam visited and examined by a midwife and two surgeons, all three of whom swore an oath that this poor creature had not been touched and that she was still a virgin. Despite this, she passed through the hands of the executioner, as you can see from my account. For the two officers, who only bought the garment that the Prince presented to this unfortunate girl, they are condemned to Spandu [sic] for the rest of their days.

The two officers should be Lts. Spaen and Ingersleben (he of the teacups), who were both eventually released from prison. Løvenørn is wrong about Spaen, though; he was implicated in the 1729 and 1730 escape attempts, not just in acting as a go-between for Fritz and Doris.

My main question is whether Løvenørn is an independent source for Doris being found a virgin, or if he's just getting his info directly from Guy-Dickens.

Edited Date: 2024-01-14 06:00 pm (UTC)

From:

From:

cahn - Date: 2024-01-18 03:55 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

So, by now, we should be pretty familiar with the idea that at the end of the Seven Years' War, circa 1763-1768, Fritz wants:

- Time to recover from the last war.
- That means no more war for a while.
- An alliance between Prussia and Russia.
- No alliances between Prussia and anyone else.
- No alliances between Russia and anyone else.

So basically, Russia/Prussia is his OTP. :P

In 1763, worried about how long Catherine is taking to agree to an alliance with him, and at how she's shopping around for alternatives, Fritz starts inviting the Turks over and making a big show of hosting them with great pomp. This has the desired effect, and a treaty is signed between Russia and Prussia on April 11, 1764, with these terms:

- The two powers guarantee each other's European possessions.
- In the event of attack by a third power, they agree to provide 10,000 infantry and 2,000 cavalry.
- Frederick has to support Poniatowski's election as king of Poland.
- They agree to protect the 'dissidents', i.e. the Orthodox and Protestant believers in Poland.

Secret terms:
- Prussia guarantees ducal Holstein to the Grand Duke Paul.
- No changes in the Polish constitution, and agreement to forestall any attempt to make such changes by force of arms if need be.
- In the event of an attack by the Turks on Russia, or by another power beyond the Weser River on Prussian possessions, military assistance can be replaced by a subsidy of 400,000 rubles.
- They agree to preserve the existing balance of political parties in Sweden, and to coordinate their intervention if there was any threat to that.

The treaty was to be valid for eight years.

During the subsequent 8 years, the two rulers did their best to keep Poland weak, though they often had different priorities. While Catherine was going to get the dissidents equal political rights come hell or high water, Fritz was rolling his eyes at her and focusing on crippling the country economically. In 1766, under Poniatowki's leadership, the Sejm actually started passing some measures to stabilize the currency, and to impose a set of nation-wide customs duties to bring in revenue.

But one of the issues with trying to centralize, as most rulers find, is that local provinces start yelling about what we in the US would call "states' rights." Polish Prussia (the part of Poland that will later be acquired by Fritz and Heinrich) starts protesting this measure, and the locals there reach out to Fritz in his capacity as ruler of East Prussia to help them. Fritz obligingly points out that there was a 1657 treaty by which there couldn't be any customs duties in Polish Prussia without coordination with East Prussia. Invoking that, he sets up his *own* customs duties on the Vistula.

Fritz's original goal was to force the Poles to abandon their duties, but this new source of income proved so lucrative that Fritz started offering to lower the amount he was charging and cut Poniatowski in on the proceeds.

Poniatowski refuses, being a man who is busy trying to turn Poland into an independent state, and he turns trustingly to Catherine for help. Frederick, as sure she will take *his* side as Poniatowski is that she'll take *his*, agrees to allow her to mediate.

Catherine, being an unsentimental believer in realpolitik, backs her ally Fritz over her ex-lover and increasingly un-puppetlike puppet king. She makes everybody tear down their customs houses and go back to the status quo (the one that made for a weak Poland).

Catherine: Now both of you stop it! Poniatowski, you have standing orders to try to force pro-dissident legislation through the Sejm, you need to get back to that! None of this trying to make Poland into an economically viable independent country.

Catherine: And Fritz, we have a treaty whose main point, as I see it, is to get the dissidents in Poland equal rights. Stop getting distracted by customs and things.

Poniatowski and Fritz, in unison: But, Mom!

Poniatowski: It is my bounden duty to do right by my country, which I was called by God to rule.

Fritz: I'm trying to undermine the Polish economy!!

Catherine: No more whining, either of you, or I'm turning this car around and nobody gets any legislation! Now, back to my dissidents.

Fritz: Okay, Catherine is getting kind of out of control here. Joseph, wanna meet up?

Kaunitz and MT: No! (1766)

1768:

Catherine: *forces her legislation through, accidentally or on purpose triggering a civil war*

Kaunitz: Okay, Catherine is getting kind of out of control here. Joseph, wanna meet up with Fritz?

Joseph and MT: No!

1769:

Joseph: Fritz, wanna meet up?

MT: No!

Joseph, Kaunitz, and Fritz: Sorry, MT, you're outnumbered this time.

Fritz: Okay, so, peace in Germany, no matter what Britain and France, or Sweden and Russia, or anyone else for that matter, does? Besides, if things go too badly wrong, I do have a gangster side:

If we have serious disagreements with England, we can revenge ourselves on her by seizing the Electorate of Hanover, a territory ill-prepared to defend herself. [This quote actually dates to c. 1767-1768, but Joseph is the source.]

Joseph: You got it. Plans for restraining Catherine?

Fritz: This meeting with you is my plan. Once she sees I'm considering an alliance with you, she'll have to renew our treaty early. Hey, playing hard to get worked in 1763 when I used the Turks!

Catherine: It worked again, damn you, Fritz.

(See the upcoming section on Sweden for the details of this treaty; I'm not going to get too involved in Prussia and Sweden in this section, since there's not a lot new to add compared to what's there.)

Sticking to Russia, 1770 is the year of Russian success against Turkey. Fritz and Joseph get even more worried, and they meet up at Neustadt in September. While they're there, Turkey requests formal mediation from Prussia and Austria.

Catherine wants to dictate her own terms, but her terms are too extreme for Fritz. But her army is on a roll, so she doesn't want to accept his much more moderate terms. And Fritz wants to end the war for two reasons. One, he has to pay subsidies, and those are getting expensive. Two, Austria is acting like they're about to get drawn into joining the Turks and fighting Russia. One of Fritz's hopes in meeting with Joseph and Kaunitz at Neustadt is to be friendly enough with them that they won't attack him if they do fight Russia.

But while the war goes on, Austria does something that unintentionally turns out to be very useful to Fritz and his anti-Polish designs: they bring troops into Poland, ostensibly to establish a cordon sanitaire against the plague, but obviously with the intent of appropriating some territory. This gives Fritz a chance to do the same in 1770. And he starts reviving claims to Pomerelia (part of Poland).

During the 1768-1772 period, the idea of Prussia getting part of Poland is in the air. Fritz emphasizes it in his secret 1768 political testament to his heir. Kaunitz actually proposes it as one of Austria's endless "Well, maybe we could arrange the territories *this* way" ideas. Fritz mentions it to the Austrian ambassador. He tries sounding out the Russians by pretending it was Danish Count Lynar's idea. But nobody takes the bait, and by the time Heinrich shows up in Russia and tells Fritz they're open to it, Fritz is reluctant to jump at the idea, especially for such a small amount of territory. He writes to Heinrich (the quote that I shared with

cahn recently):

As to the question of occupying the duchy of Warmia, I ruled that out, as the whole operation is not worth tuppence. The portion is so small that it fails to compensate for the song and dance it will necessarily drum up. On the other hand, Polish Prussia would be worth the trouble, even without Danzig, as then we would have the Vistula and what would be very important, free access to the kingdom [of Prussia] … If you are too eager to snatch at trifles, it gives you a reputation for greed and insatiability which I don't want to have any more than I do already in Europe.

Fritz is clearly thinking along the lines of "Gimme gimme" about Poland, but he needs two conditions to be met:

- Russia won't go to war over it (and preferably Austria, which is why he spends so much time trying to tempt Austria into joining the partition).
- The territory he acquires will be large enough to be worth the bad PR.

So he turns down Heinrich's initial offer, but I think he's waaaaay more interested than Volz gives him credit for, and it's a ploy to get more by playing hard to get (Fritz: willing to play hard to get in the 1760s!).

Even the Comte de Broglie, a contemporary, wrote: "The King of Prussia is anxious that another should commence to dismember her, so that he may have his share."

Okay, I did my best, but it's hard to get a map that covers all of the placenames we're about to talk about. This map will show you Danzig, Marienburg, Pomerelia (not to be confused with Pomerania), and Culm. Ermland is the same as Warmia.

The Vistula runs through Warsaw and empties into the Baltic at Danzig. This is why Danzig is such a great port city that Fritz so eager to have and everyone else is so eager for him not to have.

This one will show you Warmia and Thorn:

And here's a great one-minute video showing the evolution of the map of Poland through the 3 partitions, of which this write-up only covers the first (but

selenak is helpfully bringing up implications of the following ones): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=601zBAfXoWE

All of this to illustrate the following quote from MacDonogh:

Frederick decided which cuts of the turkey he would like best: Pomerelia, south of Danzig, the part of Great Poland that lay beyond the Netze, the bishopric of Warmia and the palatinates of Marienburg and Culm. He was also anxious to get his hands on Danzig and Thorn. The Russians, he alleged, had offered him the former, and then had withdrawn the offer, citing their 'guarantees' of Polish liberties. Frederick believed that the 'base perfidious' British had scuttled the acquisition because they did not want to see him master of the Vistula. Frederick reconciled himself with the idea that he would get it in the long run, possibly starving it out by transferring the port trade to Elbing. His sentiments closely followed those he had expressed in the 1768 Testament politique. In September 1773, he acquired 36,300 square kilometres. It was the smallest chunk: the Austrians had taken 81,900 and the Russians, 92,000.

In fact, even after the partition is agreed on in 1772, Prussia, like Austria and Russia, keep finding every excuse throughout the 1770s to snatch up little bits and pieces here and there. Not until the surveyors have marked the exact boundaries in 1777 is Fritz done squeezing out every little bit he can get when no one is looking. He's unable to get Danzig, despite trying very hard, because too many of the major trading powers of Europe are concerned about that (remember Lehndorff later being offended that the inhabitants of Danzig don't want to be Prussian), and it won't be until 1792 and the Second Polish Partition that Prussia gets its grubby hands on Danzig.

But by 1772, Fritz is already taking advantage of his newly acquired Polish territories to...you guessed it...cripple the Polish economy!

One, he systematically bans all Polish grain exports, with an eye toward making it easier to acquire new territory from an even more impoverished Poland. Two, he seizes a Polish customs house on the Vistula and starts levying tolls on up to 50% of the value of cargoes passing through.

That's all a pretty sweet deal for Prussia, which comes out of this the best of all the partitioning powers, despite having the weakest cards to play.

Fritz: See? Watch me play hard to get three times and get what I want three times. I have learned a few things since I was 28.

Edited Date: 2024-01-16 04:32 am (UTC)

From:

cahn

So basically, Russia/Prussia is his OTP. :P

Hee!

Poniatowski refuses, being a man who is busy trying to turn Poland into an independent state, and he turns trustingly to Catherine for help. Frederick, as sure she will take *his* side as Poniatowski is that she'll take *his*, agrees to allow her to mediate.

Oh, Poniatowski <3

Frederick decided which cuts of the turkey he would like best:

Hee!

But by 1772, Fritz is already taking advantage of his newly acquired Polish territories to...you guessed it...cripple the Polish economy!

Gosh. Fritz is really something...

From:

mildred_of_midgard

I knew Lehndorff would have the goods on Fritz's reception of the Turks in November 1763, and indeed, he delivers!

October. The Turkish ambassador has arrived in Breslau, and great preparations are being made here to receive him. The Minister of State, Count Finck, assures us that the Peace of Dresden did not cause him as much work as determining the ceremonies for this affair. Achmet Effendi will take up residence in the large Vernezobre house, where everything is furnished in scarlet red in Turkish style. Old Baron Pöllnitz will introduce the envoy. Pöllnitz therefore receives a servant in magnificent livery from the king and a wonderful state dress for himself. His Majesty wrote to him on this occasion: "If you write to me, from now on you will use this address: To Mr. Friedrich, famous personal tailor to Baron von Pöllnitz, living in Potsdam in the suburb of Sanssouci."

Lol, Fritz.

November. The Turkish envoy has arrived in Weißensee. Several Berliners were there to see him; one finds that he has the appearance of a venerable old man. People also praise his gentle character, but claim to know that he is filthy with avarice. On November 9th the whole city was in motion because of the entry of the Turkish envoy. A spectacle like this has never been seen in this country. I'm going to Governor von Hülsen where the whole train has to pass. The envoy arrives at 11 a.m. He sits very well on horseback, and all the Turks in his entourage are handsome men. By the way, I don't think the procession is particularly splendid; Of course, it is explained that all the pomp is being saved for the audience with the king. The Turkish music is terrible, the whole demeanor of the people and their appearance could be called Jewish. The ambassador has his nephew with him, who will probably have a more refined demeanor than the others because he has lived for a long time in the grand vizier's house. He asks Mr. v. Printz, the king's adjutant, to introduce him to all societies, so that he can learn European behavior.

18th century anti-Semitism at work.

I finally satisfy my curiosity and visit the Turk. I attend his meal, his prayer and see the form of his receptions. Everything here is so different from our customs and customs and seems so sad to us that we get the impression that these people must feel quite unhappy. But maybe they have the same view of us. The Messenger's nephew is a young man full of fire who shows an eager desire to learn our customs. He has already dined with several people in the city and seems to be enjoying himself quite well in our company. Yesterday we visited him with a whole group of ladies. He chose the most beautiful ones first and gave them the best seats. Then, with the finest grace in the world, he gave us coffee and jam, and he also began to sing and was in a lovely mood.

I am impressed with his "but maybe they have the same view of us." Lehndorff has his moments of insight!

The old Baron Pöllnitz, who is supposed to determine all the etiquette to be observed for the Turkish ambassador's audience with the king, feels completely rejuvenated. He, who was raised in the etiquette and pomp of the court of Frederick I, is completely in his element. The king now and then disturbs his joy by declaring that all the festivities are disgusting to him, and two days before the audience he writes to him that he does not want to have any ceremony, but will simply meet the Turkish ambassador in his usual rooms received . This makes the baron so angry that no one dares approach him. The king finally arrives at 5 o'clock in the afternoon on the 19th, and Count Finck finds an opportune moment to convince the king that the love of oriental splendor requires a celebratory public reception.

Pöllnitz is beside himself with joy and runs straight to the queen to tell her that he has won the victory and that everything will now play out as it should. He immediately informed the entire nobility that everyone had to meet in the White Hall at 10 a.m. on the 20th.

Hahaha, this whole drama is hilarious to me. It must be hard to have formed your taste for ceremony under Grandpa F1 and then have to live through the reigns of FW and Fritz.

On this day at 9 a.m., the gifts that the Ottoman emperor gives the king are brought into the room next to the Ritter hall intended for the audience and are displayed here. The Ritter hall was beautifully decorated. A dais of three steps had been erected under the canopy, which, in keeping with the noble austerity of our court, was covered with an old window curtain made of crimson and covered with gold. On it stood a canapé of solid silver covered with crimson velvet, in front of which was a table covered with the same cloth. The table had been taken from the cathedral, where it is used for communion and baptisms. The king goes into this hall at 9 a.m. accompanied by all the princes. He waited until 12 o'clock when Baron Pöllnitz and Achmet Effendi finally entered the room in front of the hall.

Here the ambassador is given a chair and the emperor's turban is placed on his head. Then the Baron knocks on the door and the High Court Marshal Count Reuss asks what he wants. Pöllnitz replies that the Turkish ambassador is there and is requesting an audience with the king. Now the ambassador is allowed to enter. Instead of bowing three times, as Christian ambassadors do, he raises his right hand three times, then approaches the throne and delivers his speech, closing his eyes. He addresses the king as "Emperor" and calls him the "follower of Jesus, the sectarian of Nazareth." After Count Finck has answered, the envoy quickly climbs the steps of the throne, takes the king's right arm, kisses his shoulder and disappears from the hall with lightning speed.

Pöllnitz now accompanies the envoy back to the hotel with the same ceremony, where a lavish meal is served by the king. The king appointed 24 people, including me, to take part in it, and as luck would have it, I got my place next to Achmet so that I could see exactly how he eats. He leaves the dishes prepared by our chefs untouched and only enjoys those prepared in the local style. You always give him one bowl after the other and he diligently reaches out with his fingers and serves us in the same way. I'm so curious to taste everything; It's disgusting, everything prepared with honey and oil.

He really likes our dessert and has several porcelain bowls taken away. As we rise from the table, his entourage plunders the entire dessert, which seems quite amusing to us. The ambassador then has the coffee served and plays the amiable host.

That same evening the king gives a ball to the queen and then drives back to Potsdam early in the morning. The Hereditary Prince of Braunschweig and the Prince of Prussia stay here for another day and attend the ball at Prince Ferdinand's, where the nephew of the Turkish ambassador is having a great time.

On December 12th, Prince Heinrich arrives in Berlin, quite displeased at having swapped his idyllic Rheinsberg for the noisy Berlin. He also gives the Turks an audience, where he seems quite interested since the matter is completely new to him.

Poor Heinrich. He *just* got to move to Rheinsberg! This is also when he's clinically depressed from PTSD, of course.

The Turks are actively taking part in the carnival festivities that are now beginning. The old envoy always maintains his dignity and has only appeared once in a play. His nephew, on the other hand, young Effendi, is everywhere and is having a great time. In the academy where I took him, he looked at our physics experiments with great interest. These people don't talk much, but they often make pertinent comments. When he sees the color change in the water that the Margrave causes with various essences, he says: "Yes, what's the use of that? It would be better if you could make water instead of giving it colors." Electricity arouses his lively interest. In the evening we are in Dominos at a ball that Prince Henry is giving to the queen and a large part of the nobility. Old Achmet is delighted to see all these beautiful women; he assures us that he has never seen so many from one house.

And thus ends Lehndorff's entry.

Edited Date: 2024-01-14 11:06 pm (UTC)

From:

From:

selenak - Date: 2024-01-18 07:35 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

A 4-part series on Sweden, dedicated to

luzula!

It's going to be a little more domestic policy and a little less foreign policy than the other countries' installments, because we're building up to the end of the Age of Liberty in Sweden (namely Gustav's coup and the restoration of absolutism), and it'll be a little less closely related to the events of the First Polish Partition than most of the other installments. But it's still interesting, and understanding the events in Poland helps provide context for understanding the events in Sweden, which is why we're doing them in this order.

Since we're introducing some new characters here, I'll introduce the most important envoys in Stockholm:

Osterman: Russian envoy
Goodricke: British envoy
Vergennes: French envoy (and future French foreign minister, although we'll stop before he comes to power in 1774)

And we'll have the map so we can remind ourselves that Finland isn't an independent country in this period, Sweden and Russia are neighbors, and that's why Sweden and Russia care so much about what the other one is doing.

We'll also have a map from before Peter the Great, showing that St. Petersburg used to not exist, and that Sweden used to control all the Baltic coast that now belongs to Russia, and very much wants it back. Which is why the prospect of Sweden becoming a military power again under an absolute monarch (like Gustav) worries Catherine so much.

With all that under our belts, the key to understanding Swedish politics during the Age of Liberty (1719-1772) is that it's like a less dysfunctional version of Poland. You have a monarch who is elected, nobles that run the country, foreign powers interfering in who gets elected (the current king, Louisa Ulrike's husband, was chosen by Elizaveta), foreign powers bribing the nobles, and a two-party system: the pro-Russian party (Caps/Czartoryskis) and the pro-French party (Hats/Potockis).

Foreign powers generally want two things from Poland and Sweden: a foreign policy that benefits their country, and preserving the constitution so that the monarch stays too weak to do anything.

This is relevant because it's no accident that Gustav's coup to end the Age of Liberty in Sweden and restore autocracy in 1772 was the same year the Polish Partition took place. Gustav took one look at what Catherine was doing in Poland and went "Oh, shit. That's us next if I don't do something." And he had to act quickly, while she was still at war with the Turks. (When he later invades Russia in 1788, it will be because she's at war with the Turks again.)

So even though the reason Fritz and Heinrich freaked out was because Catherine would very much disapprove of what their nephew had done, it was precisely the consequences of her own actions.

Now that you understand that, we can get into the nitty-gritty of Swedish politics.

Edited Date: 2024-01-16 12:47 am (UTC)

From:

luzula

Oooh, for me! : D Much looking forward to the rest of this.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

You may recall that the pro-French Hats were in power in the early 1740s, when Fritz pressured France into bribing/subsidizing Sweden into invading Russia, to keep Russia out of the Silesian War. That did not end well.

Then in 1756, Ulrike attempts to institute absolutism. She is caught by the Hats, who make her sign a public "I won't do it again" apology letter, which she finds very humiliating. That same year, the Seven Years' War starts, and the pro-French Hats being in power is how Sweden ends up entering the war on the side of France, i.e. against Fritz, who is now fighting a 4-front war. Or as I like to say, a 3.5 front war, because Sweden isn't able to present a credible threat. Which is how all their neighbors (Russia, Prussia, Denmark) want to keep it.

After the Seven Years' War goes badly and there's a financial crisis, there's an extraordinary diet called in 1765. The discredited Hats fall from power and the pro-Russian Caps get a chance to try their hand at the wheel. In 1765, Sweden signs a defensive alliance with Russia and Gustav gets engaged to Frederik V's daughter, and in the following year, 1766, Sweden concludes an alliance with Britain.

Since Britain and France are arch-enemies, this means Sweden has definitively abandoned their pro-French ways. This is a mutual decision: Choiseul, who's in power in France, is disenchanted with the Hats, as they haven't proven very useful, and they're very expensive. The French stop paying even arrears on the subsidies they owe Sweden from all those years of alliance.

So Sweden's foreign policy has done an about-face after the Caps come to power. But the Caps' economic policies prove unpopular and their reign short-lived. Many Swedes were not happy with all the Russian interference, and Russia had to spend a *lot* of money on bribes. Ulrike is basically at social war with the Russian ambassador Osterman. Per Michael Roberts, "The queen, reported Osterman, had only to hear that he had organized a reception or a dinner to choose the same evening for one of her own."

Things get super complicated starting in 1768, which is not coincidentally the first year that this series of write-ups was intended to cover. (I eventually realized you need 1764-1767 to get the rationale for the civil war in Poland, but the really interesting stuff is 1768-1772.)

Edited Date: 2024-01-16 10:58 pm (UTC)

From:

selenak

mildred_of_midgard

This letter is addressed "to the king," so Frederik IV of Denmark, who is not quite dead yet.

Last night I informed Mr. Secretary of State von Hagen of my arrival here, and that I had written to the Majesty the King of Prussia, to find out when it would please him to see me. Whereupon Mr. de Borck came to me the day before yesterday and told me laughing that he was going to show me what the King had replied to him on my letter and on this question, Mr. de Borck having written to him to notify him of my arrival.

The words of the king were: "Borck should say to Lovenörn, 'I had believed him to be my good friend, but not anymore since Katte and Fritz, c'est le Prince, have testified that he'd known what they had planed, and that the later had confided it to him at Prince Galitzin's party. If he as my friend had told me about it, this unfortunate affair would not have happened.'"

Mildred: So previously I thought "c'est le Prince" was the addition of Borck, because I thought we had a letter from Borck to Løvenørn, but this is Løvenørn writing, so I think it's his addition. Borck always writes strictly in German to Løvenørn, from what I can see in this collection of papers, and Løvenørn, who's been hanging out at the Berlin court for years, would know that "Fritz" is how FW often refers to Fritz. Løvenørn, in contrast, is writing this letter in French, and Frederik V would not necessarily know who "Fritz" is.

This Minister congratulated me at the same time on what was in the explanation, then that he knew from his own experience that it was a sure sign of wanting to make amends.

I began by asking him what he would have done if he had been in my place, and if he believed that I could have betrayed Prince without committing an action that would have shocked the whole world. right to blame me. He replied very naively that I had only done what any honest man should have done in such an encounter, and that he would say the same thing to the King if he spoke to him about it.

After that I asked him to testify to His Majesty that I was noticeably touched to learn that he believed he was right to be dissatisfied with me, but, as I was convinced that His Royal Equanimity would not allow him to condemn anyone without listening to them, I hoped that when he arrived here, he would kindly give me a couple of minutes to justify myself, and that I didn't need more to completely convince him of the innocence and the righteousness of my conduct. Indeed, Sire, I am convinced that His Prussian Majesty, who will be here this evening or tomorrow morning, will not delay in recognizing that I could not act contrary to what I did in the matter in question, and that it will not be difficult for me to make him understand that even if he had learned about it from me, he would not have been able to apply any other remedies than those that he has just used now that he has been informed of it via other sources.

In the meantime I see, from what the Prince Royal said about having spoken to me about this affair at Prince Gallitzin's, that he did not say everything, or that his memory failed him, since he only ever spoke to me about it at Camp de Saxe.

I have no doubt that as soon as I have explained myself to His Prussian Majesty, he will return his good graces and talk with me as usual. It is not the same with Knight Hotham and Captain Guidickens, against whom His Majesty is so angry that he cannot name them without giving them the most mortifying epithets. For the Prince Royal as well as Lieutenant Katte having testified that Knight Hotham had knowledge of their design and that it was to find out the intentions of the King of Great Britain on this matter that Captain Guydickens had made the trip in London from the Camp of Saxony in the month of June last, the King of Prussia is absolutely in the opinion that they have strengthened the Prince in this design.

However, both admitted at the same time that His British Majesty did not want to enter into this in any way. We extremely admire the presence of mind that the Royal Prince showed before the commission, which had gone to find him in Mittenwalde, having had a most serious interview with Mr. de Gromkow at the same time as he was dictating, with the eloquence of a Cicero, to the Privy Councilor Mylius, who held the pen, what he had to write, without confusing himself in the slightest in the connection of things. He is now locked up in a room in Cüstrin, with no other company than a single chamber lackey, who brings him food and who comes in the morning to dress him and in the evening to put him to bed. May God be his consolation! Because the temptation is great for a young prince of his age. His first valet was sent to Spandoir and put in the cart (?), on some suspicion that His Majesty had conceived against him, his second valet was made surgeon of a regiment, and his page Low Officer in the regiment of Gersdorf, who is garrisoned at Spandow. The daughter of the rector of Potsdam, of whom Chancellor Johnn mentioned in one of his last letters to Mr. State Secretary von Hagen, was publicly whipped by the hand of the executioner and sent to the penitentiary in Spandow: her only crime consists of having received a small present from the Prince by the hands of the 2 officers who were arrested with her, to whom the Prince must have told, that it was not fair that a her daughter should not have been dressed properly, without him having ever spoken to her in his life. The father and mother of this unfortunate girl were shamefully expelled from His Majesty's states.

Mildred: I have two things I don't recognize here: Fritz never spoke to Doris; Doris's parents were kicked out. I would have to check, but I feel like Hinrichs has Fritz or one of the other people who were interrogated admitting Fritz did interact with her directly? Maybe?

Searching through salon for "Doris Ritter" and "parents", I don't see anything except them testifying that there was nothing improper.

Alas, I think Løvenørn may be guilty of some exaggeration/relying on unreliable sources himself, between this, Spaen and Ingersleben being locked up for life, and what's coming:

Finally, Sire, it is impossible for me to properly represent to Your Majesty the desolation in which everyone finds themselves here. The Queen has not eaten for several days and only cries, being made like a skeleton. The Royal Prince was so terribly mistreated, by the King his Father at Wesel, that most of his hair was torn out, and he still bears the marks. The eldest Princess suffered almost the same treatment when the King arrived in this city, and it is believed that she would perhaps not have escaped alive from his hands, if the great governess von Kamecke had not finally had the courage to throw herself between two, although the King had nothing else against her except that she did not repeat to him what her brother said to him when leaving.

That she might not see him again so soon: he had to go away, since he couldn't stand it any longer.

I'm 100% willing to believe that the guy who dragged Fritz by his hair at Zeithain dragged him by his hair at Wesel. But hair is hard to pull out in large amounts, and I feel like if Fritz was missing most of his hair, someone else would have told us by now?

Anyway, I think it's clear that Frau von Kamecke intervened, especially given this next bit:

As the Queen is not to be approached in these sad circumstances, I have instructed Madame de Kamecke to pay her Your Majesty's compliments and to return a thousand thanks on her part for what she was kind enough to allow Mr. Stahl to stay for such a long time with Your Majesty, and this lady brought me in response that the Queen was sorry not to have had a better opportunity to show to Your Majesty the friendship she has for her person and that she wished to learn immediately of Your Majesty's complete recovery.

So it seems Løvenørn has direct contact with Kamecke and could have gotten her version of the story from the horse's mouth. I think Kamecke and Wilhelmine count as two separate eyewitnesses of what happened that day, and their stories align.

I'm also interested in SD being a "skeleton". It's the second time he's said this in one of his letters. I know she weighed a lot at her death, but that was over 25 years later. Do we know anything about her weight in this period? After 14 pregnancies, I'd be surprised...

As a reminder, Stahl is the doctor we've seen before, the one whom SD allowed to go to Denmark to try to treat a dying Frederik IV, and the one who didn't want to go back, but didn't want to tell SD he didn't want to go back, so the Danes set up an elaborate diplomatic pretense that he wanted to go back but the king said no. :P

Btw, significant parts of this letter have a note in the margin saying "ciphers"; those are the parts I've underlined. Since the ciphered text is in plaintext, I'm assuming this beautiful handwriting is a clean copy for the records. In fact, much of this beautiful handwriting I've been praising may be a secretary doing a clean copy for the royal archives?

At any rate, it is SO COOL to be reading Løvenørn's unpublished letters and finding things like a second source for Doris Ritter being a virgin, a second source for Frau von Kamecke being the hero of the day, etc.!

From:

selenak

Knight Hotham and Captain Guidickens

I see Knight Hotham belongs to the same google translate family as the Knight of Lorraine. *g* Lehndorff will refer to Sir Charles Hotham's nephew as "the Chevalier Hotham" as well. Lövenörn spelling it Guidickens, as one word, is a good reminder of what we didn't realize for the longest time, that it's not Guy Dickens, but Melchior Guy-Dickens.

Campe de Saxe - the Saxon Camp = Zeithain.

cahn, where FW dragged Fritz in front of the Saxon and Prussian armies at his hair, and where Fritz and Katte approached Hoym (and it appears Lövenörn) with escape help pleas. Well, Fritz tried to; Katte in his interrogation claims he tried to foil this by not relaying messages. Otoh Hoym certainly received them, because it will be brought up by Brühl and others later at Hoym's own downfall.

We extremely admire the presence of mind that the Royal Prince showed before the commission, which had gone to find him in Mittenwalde, having had a most serious interview with Mr. de Gromkow at the same time as he was dictating, with the eloquence of a Cicero, to the Privy Councilor Mylius, who held the pen, what he had to write, without confusing himself in the slightest in the connection of things.

In other words, he didn't incriminate Danemark more than the absolute minimum wise and also, unlike Katte, didn't try to sell FW on Seckendorff & Grumbkow trying to make him into a Catholic to marry MT :)

Mildred: I have two things I don't recognize here: Fritz never spoke to Doris; Doris's parents were kicked out. I would have to check, but I feel like Hinrichs has Fritz or one of the other people who were interrogated admitting Fritz did interact with her directly? Maybe?

She definitely interacted directly with him, because Spaen was accused of, and admitting to, chaperoning her and Fritz on some strolls. She also played the piano (I think?) while Fritz played the flute. So Lövenörn is definitely exaggarating in one direction, downplaying in the other in the partisan spirit. Re: her parents, I'm not sure but maybe her Dad lost his job as cantor over this? But her parents definitely weren't banished from either Potsdam or Berlin.

Fritz getting half his hair torn out reminds me of Guy Dickens claiming he lives unshaven with a wild beard and long hair in Küstrin, i.e. it's not true at all but says something about the imagination of the respective envoy and belongs to the trope of the abused prisoner.

Sceleton!SD is similarly a rethorical exaggaration. Stratemann saw her repeatedly that autumn and mentions nothing about any significant weight loss. Granted, Stratemann also insists that Wilhelmine is "unwell" and that's why she's in her rooms all the time right until she accepts the marriage and is allowed out again which is when he mentions it wasn't all for health reasons, so he'd downplay any physical SD distress as much as the other two would play it up. But what's most likely is that SD was upset and distressed and what not, but any weight loss wasn't so much that many people noticed. Let's not forget: she gave birth to Ferdinand in the same year in late spring (May, I think?), and it's now early September. My mother took more than half a year to recover her waistline after the birth of my brother, and SD is living in far unhealthier times, and also doesn't appear to have been one for physical exercise like riding or walking, unlike, say, her grandmother Sophie of Hannover.

At any rate, it is SO COOL to be reading Løvenørn's unpublished letters and finding things like a second source for Doris Ritter being a virgin, a second source for Frau von Kamecke being the hero of the day, etc.!

That it definitely is! And all praise to you for ordering copies of those letters and translating them!

Re: Løvenørn letters: Sep 10, 1730

From:

cahn - Date: 2024-01-19 01:05 am (UTC) - Expand

Re: Løvenørn letters: Sep 10, 1730

mildred_of_midgard

About a year ago,

selenak reported here that Voltaire tells a story about Philippe the Regent being after the crown of Spain when it goes to his nephew (Philip V "the frog"), and this causing friction between them.

What I have found so far in my French reading practice relates to "He had some pretensions to that place, which had been left unnoticed in the king of Spain's will, and which his father had supported by a protest."

That part at least seems to be true. Going from memory, Carlos II (the inbred genetic wonder, whose death triggered the War of the Spanish Succession in 1700) left a will saying the throne was to be offered to the younger grandson of Louis XIV first (that's the frog), the younger son of Holy Roman Emperor Leopold I (that's MT's dad, Charles VI) if Louis XIV refuses it on behalf of Philip, and to Victor Amadeus of Savoy (Fritz's and my side-switching Machiavellian fave) in the unlikely event both the Bourbons and the Habsburgs refuse it.

And Philippe the Gay was all: "What do you mean, it goes to the Habsburgs if Louis XIV's grandson doesn't get it? I'm descended from Anne of Austria too!! And as Selena never tires of explaining, she is of the *house* of Austria--i.e. the Habsburgs--but geographically from Spain."

And Philippe the Regent was all, "Yeah! I want my name in the official documents in case anything happens to Philip the not-yet-frog!"

After the Orleans father and son made enough of a fuss, the Spanish drew up new documents in the early 1700s and made sure to include the Orleans line in said documents.

According to Philippe the Regent's biographer, this was a matter of family honor/prestige rather than an actual belief that either of them would or should ever come to the throne.

I've now read as far as Philippe the Regent campaigning in Spain. He hasn't shown any signs of trying to take over the throne in this book, but the day is still young. ;) I will report if anything happens.

Meanwhile, Philip V the Frog and especially his wife are quite taken with Philippe the Regent as a charming, intelligent person who is helping save their throne. Because everyone is connected, the author does Horowski proud by reminding us that not only is Philippe the (future) Regent the cousin of Philip V the (future) Frog, but also the uncle of his wife Marie-Louise of Savoy. Because Marie-Louise is the daughter of Victor-Amadeus* of Savoy, who married Anne Marie d'Orleans, the daughter of Philippe the Gay and Henrietta of England, making Anne Marie the sister of Philippe the Regent.

Not sure how the spacing will render in your browsers; does this look okay?

Louis XIII = Anne of Austria
|                        |
Louis XIV            Philippe d'Orleans (Gay)
|                        |             |
Louis   Victor Amadeus = Anne-Marie  Philippe d'Orleans (Regent)
|                        |
Philip V (Frog)  = Marie-Louise

* Remember, VA married his daughter to the grandson of the king of France, making her queen of Spain, which you'd think would make him support his son-in-law's claims, but no, he switches sides and starts supporting the Habsburgs. Leading Marie-Louise to write the "how long, dear Papa, are you going to persecute your own children?" letter that made me and

selenak wonder if it was inspired by Cicero.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

So the most obvious and interesting thing that happens in Denmark during this period is the rise and fall of Struensee (1770-1771). However, we're not going to cover that here, for two reasons: one, it's already been covered in some depth (see the Rheinsberg tag), and two, it didn't have too much impact on foreign policy. Struensee was far more interested in his domestic reforms, and he wasn't in power long, so Bernstorff is still the major player for much of this discussion.

Foreign policy-wise, Bernstorff's priorities are pretty consistently the ones we're familiar with: try to arrange a solution with Russia to the Schleswig-Holstein problem that doesn't involve Russia invading Denmark; try to keep Denmark at peace and neutral.

The only thing that changes over the years is the details of what he considers the best way to implement this.

Earlier in the century, Denmark had been on good terms with Britain. Britain had helped settle matters with Karl XII's invasion early in the Great Northern War, and kept matters from getting worse for Denmark. And there were (and continue to be) many royal intermarriages. But around the mid-century, Danish foreign policy, partly guided by Moltke, shifts toward an alliance with France (see this write-up). When Bernstorff takes over in 1750, this is the situation he inherits, and he sticks with it for a while.

This, however, leads the Brits to think that Denmark is absolutely committed to being an ally of France, when really Bernstorff and Moltke are more pragmatists. They want neutrality, peace, and safety for Denmark. You may recall that Bernstorff was ambassador to France and a good friend of Choiseul when he got appointed to foreign minister in Denmark, but that he had initially declined that position because he was considering transferring to Hanoverian service. In other words, he really doesn't have a firm, principled pro-French or pro-British stance; he's open to whatever works.

Unfortunately, this leaves the British thinking he's pro-French and the French thinking he's pro-British (much like poor FS being considered German by the French and French by the Germans), when actually he's pro-Denmark.

So with his two main goals being "work out an exchange for Schleswig-Holstein that allows Denmark to keep the parts it conquered back in the Great Northern War" and "don't get sucked into any wars," Bernstorff is forced to keep a close eye on politics in Sweden.

For one thing, Sweden and Denmark are ancient enemies, being neighbors (that's how being neighbors in this century usually works). So Bernstorff absolutely has to be a staunch supporter of the 1720 constitution that limits the power of the Swedish monarch.

Furthermore, the Swedish King Adolf Fredrik is a member of the house of Gottorp and a relative of (P)Russian!Pete, meaning he has claims on that Schleswig-Holstein territory. He renounced those claims in 1750, but people are always renouncing claims in this century and then reviving them later. And Bernstorff's convinced that if Adolf Fredrik becomes an absolute monarch, he'll revive those claims. So he's got an extra incentive to keep any attempts by Ulrike and Adolf Fredrik to become absolute monarchs down.

In the 1750s, this means supporting the Hats, which France is also doing. But by 1762, nobody will help with Bernstorff's cause, not even Choiseul with the subsidies France still owes Denmark. Bernstorff is disillusioned with Choiseul. He's also disillusioned with Choiseul's pet Hats in Denmark, whose Seven Years' War policy did not go well.

So in 1765, Bernstorff makes an 8-year treaty with Russia based around keeping the 1720 constitution in force in Sweden.

In 1767, by dint of further negotiations with Russia, he gets his provisional territorial exchange (mageskiftet) of Oldenburg for the relevant bits of Schleswig-Holstein. It will become official if everyone's still on board with it in 1773, when Paul (the actual heir with the claims) reaches his majority and agrees to it.

But these negotiations with Russia have implications for Denmark's relations with other powers.

First of all, being the moderate, pragmatic type, Bernstorff has never wanted to put all his eggs in the Russian basket. He's done his best to keep his French allies in the loop about his negotiations with Russia, trying to convey that he's not abandoning them, he's just adding in some new alliances. Unfortunately, the French consider this a rank betrayal.

Likewise, the British, around this time, decide they too would like an alliance with Denmark, mostly because they've tried and failed with the other major candidates (Russia, Prussia). But while the British are trying to entice Denmark into an alliance, Bernstorff's in the middle of some delicate negotiations with Russia, so he can't afford to do anything that might piss off Russia and jeopardize the Schleswig-Holstein exchange. He tells the British that the only way he can sign a treaty with them is if they agree to guarantee Denmark's possession of the Schleswig-Holstein territory.

But the British realize that Paul may not agree to this in 1773; he is, after all, his father's son. He may have strong feelings just like dear old Dad. And then they, Britain, would be stuck going to war for something that only benefits Denmark. And look how that worked out when Peter III tried dragging Russia into a war that only benefitted Holstein. So why would George III's ministers agree to something similar?

So that fizzles out. However, relations between Denmark and Great Britain improve a little when Christian VII makes his grand tour, which we've heard about, in 1768. He and Bernstorff both make a good impression on the populace as well as the ministers. Horace Walpole apparently is especially impressed.

But at the same time, French foreign policy and Danish interests are diverging more and more. Since Bernstorff made that treaty with Russia, Choiseul has given up on the old alliance with Denmark, because Denmark is obviously pro-Russian and thus pro-English and anti-French. Furthermore, Choiseul has decided that an actual monarch in Sweden is the way to counter Russia's hegemony. So he decides to encourage Adolf Fredrik to temporarily abdicate, in hopes of setting off a chain of events that would lead to absolutism in Sweden.

It does lead to the fall of the pro-Russian Cap party, meaning the Caps can no longer help Bernstorff defend the 1720 constitution of Sweden. So Bernstorff, as we've seen, partially mobilizes the Danish fleet and starts a game of chicken. It leads him into a December 1769 treaty with Britain in which they promise to help out if France gets involved, to maintain the Swedish constitution, by force if necessary, and to conquer some Swedish territory to compensate for war expenses, if necessary.

As we've seen, the crisis around Sweden dissipates peacefully in 1770, Struensee's rise to power begins, and Bernstorff is dismissed in September.

Struensee lasts only a year, being overthrown in January 1772. Due to the scandal over Caroline Mathilde's affair with Struensee, there is friction between Britain and Denmark. It ends peacefully but with mutual bad feelings.

Furthermore, as a result of the fall of Struensee and the subsequent rise of Juliana Maria, Bernstorff's nephew ends up in power. Like his uncle, he follows a generally pro-Russian (but not slavishly so) foreign policy, and he successfully finishes negotiating that treaty whereby Paul gives up his Schleswig-Holstein claims in exchange for some more land and money, plus an alliance. Paul comes of age and chooses to accept it rather than follow in his father's footsteps in this respect.

The fact that Russia, Sweden's biggest threat, has Denmark as an ally again helps inspire the absolutist coup of Gustav III in Sweden in August of 1772. Another crisis is averted when Britain and Prussia refuse to go to war and get into a staredown with Catherine, who swallows her defeat and decides not to go to war.

In conclusion, you can see it's all very complicated and everything is tangled and intertwined.

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Like Britain, France is going to get short shrift from me in this write-up. I have Broglie's book on the King's Secret, and I have mentions of France in works from other countries' perspective, but I don't have a dedicated book on French foreign policy other than Broglie, and one bio of Vergennes. And you really need more than one book to even begin to do decent research. So this installment is going to be heavy on the Duc de Broglie quotes, light on everything else.

But hey, the Duc de Broglie opens his chapter on 1764-1770 with a bang, commenting on the Comte de Broglie and the current foreign minister, the Duc de Choiseul:

If the narrative which he has just read has possessed any interest for the reader, a piquant detail which has not yet been given will perhaps render it still more curious in his eyes. He must picture to himself that while Count de Broglie and the Duke de Choiseul were in a state of hidden hostility, aiming blows at each other in the dark, they were in the habit of meeting every evening in the same salons, with smiles on their lips, and that they belonged to the same social circle.

Now, Choiseul's main goal at this point is to make up for the losses of the Seven Years' War. France's traditional allies are the Turks (historically against Austria, now against Russia), and Sweden (historically for interfering in Germany against Austria, now against Russia), and now it has Austria as an ally too. Choiseul's post-1770 successor, D'Aiguillon, will also see Russia as the traditional ally.

Throughout the 1760s, France tries, without success, to get (bribe) the Turks to care what happens in Poland and to help prevent Poniatowski's election. But the Turks only care insofar as Russian aggrandizement is involved, and they see the danger too late. They're fine with Poniatowski ruling, and it's only when Russia has fully occupied Poland and a civil war has broken out that has spilled over to Ottoman territory in 1768 that the Turks finally get involved. As we know from this write-up, the Russians are able to handily defeat the Turks during the 1768-1774 Russo-Turkish War.

To remind you what the Comte de Broglie has been up to, after being recalled from Dresden and Warsaw upon Fritz's occupation of Saxony, the Comte de Broglie tried to get stuff done in France, failed, and ended up exiled to his country estate after a military kerfluffle involving his older brother (aka the Marshal de Broglie), whose side the Comte took. On this exile, the 19th century Duc de Broglie comments:

One would need to have lived the factitious life of a courtier of the old time to be able to appreciate the severity of that kind of punishment, inflicted only on a social class which now no longer exists, called "exile to one's own estates." It was a sudden transition from life to nonentity! To leave Versailles or the army for a provincial town, or for the country, was to enter into the land of oblivion and the valley of the shadow of death. Silence was kept around the poor exile, oppressed by the weight of solitude and inaction. No communication existed for him with the outside world, rarely did even some stray Court gazette bear to him the tardy echo of accomplished events. The post was slow, irregular, and little to be trusted; no one (and less than any other, one suspected and out of favour at Court) would have ventured to offer or receive confidences by means of it. There was no active employment on the spot; feudal dignities had long since dwindled into mere empty titles, which entailed cost without conferring power. The "King's men," the bailiff or local judge had a hundred times more authority in the smallest hamlet than the lord of the manor. The administration of private revenues was left to agents, for it would have been held beneath the attention of a gentleman. Nothing was really left to disappointed ambition but that resource which Saint-Simon, so learned in the maladies of his fellow-creatures, calls (when speaking of the Minister Chamillart ) "the ennui of walks and books."

But now the Comte de Broglie has been allowed back to court (although not given a prestigious position), and starting to pay attention to the wider world and not just the infighting in France that made me skip several hundred pages:

The Empress of Russia continues to exhibit a spectacle to Europe which we could not have expected from a princess born in a more civilised region than Siberia. She exterminates the race of the true sovereigns of her own empire, and forces a sovereign on a neighbouring kingdom, and she does not see that a crown can be better placed than on the head of one who has had the good fortune to please her. If she thinks herself obliged to treat all those who have had, or shall have, the same privilege in the same way, there will not be thrones enough in Europe to fulfil her intentions. But what charms me is the patience with which every one regards her conduct, without perceiving that this event, and the inevitable results it must have, are about to give a new form to the whole of the North. But what am I about, talking politics in this way? It is a remnant of taste for the profession."

As both the Comte and Duc de Broglie see it, France has two choices: support a French-backed candidate against Poniatowski, or pick their battles and adopt a position of neutrality. They both agree that France's alliance with Russia during the Seven Years' War cost them all the support they had in Poland–remember that Poland used to be a two-party system, pro-French and pro-Russian–and the people who don't want Catherine's ex-boyfriend in power and Russia calling all the shots are hardly going to trust France to be an opponent they can count on. Especially after France repeatedly got their butts kicked by Prussians and Brits during the Seven Years' War and came out of it not only financially crippled but with a great loss of territory.

So the Broglies, 18th and 19th century, both think neutrality was a good course, because it might allow them to get on Poniatowski's good side by not opposing his election, and that might allow them to get some use out of his future goodwill.

And the French are in luck! Poniatowski approaches the French agent in Warsaw to say, "Hey, I know Catherine will support me in *getting* the throne, but I don't know how much she's going to support my ideas afterward, like abolishing the liberum veto. So to be on the safe side, I'd like to get France's support. Can I count on you guys?"

French angel: "I would love to say yes! This sounds very exciting! But there are multiple diplomacies in France, I have many bosses, and they all have many opinions, some of which are secret, and all of which are contradictory. So I can't really commit us to the opposite of the course France has been pursuing for almost a century now. I'll need to write back home in hopes of getting clear, non-contradictory, timely instructions on how to proceed."

He is clearly no Comte de Broglie, who would have taken the initiative here.

Instead, he, and Poniatowski, wait for those clear, non-contradictory, and timely instructions. And wait. And wait.

At some point, August III dies.

Louis XV finally writes to the French agent: "Your proposal has been made useless by the death of August. Please revise as necessary."

19th century Duc de Broglie: "...Useless. I'm confused. The whole idea is to support Poniatowski as king when August is dead. August is now dead. The question you are being asked is whether to support Poniatowski. How is a plan for this EXACT event not the opposite of useless when this event happens???"

Instead, a minister is sent to France to support a Saxon candidate, one of August III's sons (Reminder that August III's daughter is married to the Dauphin), but not too much.

"Do the thing but also its opposite" and "do the thing but not too much" are basically France's foreign policy in the age of the King's Secret, and this is no exception.

After giving the official diplomat official instructions to "support the Saxons but not too much", the French minister sends a secret agent to Poland with secret instructions to go along with Poniatowski's proposal and support him (but secretly).

Comte de Broglie, stuck in France observing, with his hands tied: "This is a bad idea. Bad, bad idea. STUPID idea."

Duc de Broglie, writing with the benefit of hindsight 100 years later: "He was not wrong."

The official envoy shows up and timidly mentions a Saxon candidate occasionally, which everyone takes to mean "This is France's official stance, because it's in line with their policy of the last seventy years!"

Then the secret agent shows up.

If he had been advised to act in silence and to speak with discretion, he paid little attention to his instructions. He resumed, on the contrary, his former relations with the Czartoryski, letting it be clearly understood that he was acting thus ostentatiously by command.

So now you've got three French agents on the ground in Warsaw: the official agent half-heartedly supporting Saxony; the not-so-secret agent supporting Russia and Poniatowski; and the original agent who passed on the offer from Poniatowski and who wrote asking for instructions, and who has no idea what's going on with the other two.

Insert facepalming here.

So, the farce of French diplomacy continues to play out in this vein, and Poniatowski, as we know, is elected, and the French, as we can imagine, now just look like idiots to everyone. Duc de Broglie snarks that it was:

...as if the Cabinet of Versailles, placed in one of those difficult positions in which only a choice of errors is possible, had resolved to commit them all in succession without omitting one.

Then Fritz and Catherine sign their treaty in 1764. Fritz summarizes these events in his "Memoirs", and the Duc de Broglie has opinions about that too:

The mocking and insulting tone of the royal author makes us angry, even after a century has elapsed.

Tell us how you really feel, Duc de Broglie!

After Catherine imposed her candidate on the Polish throne via military occupation, the French withdraw their ambassador in protest. But they leave the Resident, and tell him that it is not the goal of France to show any dissatisfaction with what just happened.

Duc de Broglie: "You literally just withdrew your ambassador. How is that not a sign of dissatisfaction?"

Mildred: Well, sometimes people do it to save money, but yeah, I know what you mean.

Ah, I see the Duc de Broglie is one of the historians who thinks Catherine knew perfectly well what she was doing when she decided to force an impossible enlightened condition down the throats of the Poles (full political rights for the dissenters): she wanted an excuse to intervene militarily when it inevitably failed.

Edited Date: 2024-01-28 05:48 pm (UTC)

From:

selenak

From the safe distance of centuries, this is hilarious. Including that true 19th century hypocritical snobbishness:

The Empress of Russia continues to exhibit a spectacle to Europe which we could not have expected from a princess born in a more civilised region than Siberia.

Yeah, because France, GB, Spain and other European powers installing and deposing governments in countries they wish to colonize as an early move to that end goal is ever so much more civilized. Admit it, Monsieur Le Duc, what you object to is Catherine doing this to white people. Also She exterminates the race of the true sovereigns of her own empire is hilarious coming from a representative of La Grande Nation post 1789. I mean, it wasn't just the lawyers gone Jacobin, very high born Philippe "L'Egalité" D'Orleans voted for beheading Cousin Louis, too. And wasn't Philippe's kid King of France when the Duc was writing this? Or did he write post 1848? (In which case the Bonapartes were back.)

The mocking and insulting tone of the royal author makes us angry, even after a century has elapsed.

Tell us how you really feel, Duc de Broglie!

Fritz would be proud! As Voltaire said, this was one of his goals in life. (Voltaire being Voltaire, he had no problem with Fritz mocking the French, given he knew he was mocking Fritz both to his face and to posterity even more effectively. *g*)

Duc de Broglie: "You literally just withdrew your ambassador. How is that not a sign of dissatisfaction?"

Mildred: Well, sometimes people do it to save money, but yeah, I know what you mean.

Reminder to

cahn that this was why Prussia didn't have a proper envoy in London but a "resident" who was Swiss and whom Fritz had never met for years and years.

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: France: Concerning Poland

mildred_of_midgard

Meanwhile, in Poland, in early 1768, the Confederation of Bar is formed and civil war breaks out. Broglie doesn't think the Confederation is worth much and doesn't think it should be encouraged. Choiseul, on the other hand, encourages it. The Duc de Broglie thinks Choiseul sincerely believed in the Confederation and supported it. All the modern historians I've read who've commented on this episode have cast Choiseul's support in the same light as his bribing the Turks to go to war against Russia: not that he wanted the Confederation of Bar or the Ottoman Empire to succeed or flourish, but that he, like other European ministers and heads of state, wanted Russia's strength sapped by having to deal with these two problems.

Then in 1770, Choiseul is dismissed. The Duc de Broglie would like to blame du Barry, but much like he wants to blame Pompadour for the Treaty of Westminster and Diplomatic Revolution, he can't. But he wants you to know he's not happy about it:

In the same way as Madame de Pompadour passes for the sole author of the change in foreign policy which took place in 1756, so on Madame du Barry, in her turn, is laid all the responsibility of the ministerial revolution of 1771. I have proved that the former notion was, if not altogether false, at least exaggerated. It is very distasteful to me to have to take up twice the cause of clients of this order, and I do not wish to clear Madame du Berry in the eyes of posterity any more than Madame de Pompadour, or, above all, the King of France, for having on two occasions yielded to such base influences. But besides that the truth is always good to know, and that the greatest criminals have a right to justice, it is also important for the sake of the morality of history to recognise that, while Divine Providence, for the chastisement of nations, sometimes abandons power to unworthy hands, such vile instruments are not suffered to become the primary and real cause of great political revolutions.

Yep. That's the Duc de Broglie, all right.

He goes on to enumerate all of Choiseul's many enemies, and Louis XV's disapproval of Choiseul's support of the Confederation of Bar, as the real cause for Choiseul's fall. Du Barry played only a small role:

The unexpected assistance afforded by Madame du Barry to the opposing faction, was rendered to them against the will of that ignoble ally, and in spite of herself. It is as certain as anything can be that it was Choiseul who provoked Madame du Barry. When that base and insignificant creature was taken out of obscurity by a caprice, she was only too happy to escape from poverty and nothingness; she did not dream of playing a political part. If she had been left to enjoy the unhoped - for reward of her beauty in peace, if they had let the King satiate his passion to the point of disgust, this incident of vulgar debauchery would not have brought about a ministerial revolution. lt was Choiseul and his followers who declared themselves her enemies, who raised an outcry, and proclaimed to France and even to Europe, that the King had picked the object of his new passion out of the gutter. Indignation was legitimate, and the scandal was only too patent. But was it for Choiseul, the favourite of Madame de Pompadour, to talk so loud? No doubt there was not an exact parity between the cases, and in passing from the daughter of Lenormant the farmer-general, to Lange the prostitute, the King made several steps downward in the scale of immorality and indecency. But are not these gradual descents in the very nature of such shameful propensities? Did not Choiseul, who was neither strict nor simple, know very well that age degrades those whom in this respect it does not correct, and that of all the forms of vice, senile debauchery seeks the most repulsive? This is a sad truth, of which Madame de Pompadour was not ignorant, since it was she herself who had carefully trained the purveyors of the King's pleasures, and had set them on that line of search which had led them to Madame du Barry. After having studied with so much docility in such a school, Choiseul had no right to be scrupulous. I am quite sure that he did not at all expect to become so himself, and that if it had been predicted to him some years previously that he should resign power from sheer modesty and by an excess of scruple concerning morals, he would have laughed at such a horoscope.

Sorry, I know that whenever it comes to the Duc de Broglie, I start quoting entire pages. But I just can't help enjoying his prose whilst mocking his opinions.

Shortly after Choiseul's dismissal, Gustav shows up from Sweden:

I have described the perilous position of the little kingdom of Sweden at this time – rent, like Poland, by internal dissensions, and already coveted by Frederick and by Catherine.
I have already said that the brave Ulrica, the worthy sister of Frederick, had been unable to rouse up her indolent husband to the point of resisting the ambition of her brother; but she was at least desirous of securing a better future for her son. At Choiseul's invitation, she had sent the young prince to Paris, in order to concert measures for bringing his subjects to reason, to be taken on his accession. Gustavus arrived just in time to find the Minister in exile, and the Ministry in abeyance. He looked about in vain for somebody to speak to. As he was not deficient in intelligence, and had the best of guides in Count de Creutz, his Ambassador, he did not allow himself to be disheartened at first, and he turned his time to advantage. In default of political authority, which was in eclipse, he paid his court to intellectual authority. He visited the scientific or literary establishments, the theatres and cafés, and went to the Assembly to receive the compliments of D'Alembert. In a word, following the example of his uncle until he could fight him, he established friendly relations with the dispensers of fame. These tactics succeeded as well with him as with Frederick, although he employed them for a diametrically opposite purpose. Gustavus wanted to try a coup d'état at Stockholm in order to rescue his subjects from anarchy. Frederick kept up disturbances at Warsaw in order to prepare for conquest. The philosophers, who were little scrupulous about the quality of the incense burned in their honour, were ready to applaud both the one and the other operation, provided an equal amount of compliments, or, in some cases, more substantial presents, in exchange for their approbation, were bestowed on themselves.

Ouch.

Diderot: I hated Fritz! I hated Fritz so much I provoked him into writing an anonymous pamphlet against me just 3 years later!

The Duc de Broglie criticizes the French court for paying so much attention to Gustav at the expense of Poland, where the First Polish Partition was playing out. Broglie says that the Comte was trying and trying to bring everyone's attention to the imminent crisis, but Choiseul's dismissal and the ensuing political paralysis were partly responsible for France's inability to do anything about it.

Choiseul's eventual successor, d'Aiguillon, sees what's going on in Poland and even tries to break up the Austria-Prussia-Russia Mafia by mending fences with Fritz, but to no avail. The Duc de Broglie relentlessly mocks d'Aiguillon's fruitless efforts. The Polish Partition proceeds without any challenge from France.

Much like FW2's invasion of the Netherlands a decade later, France's inability to prevent a hostile takeover of a country they have a vested interest in protecting highlights their weakness and drives down their reputation, further weakening the monarchy and contributing to the French Revolution. The French monarchy in the second half of the 18th century reminds me of a Jenga tower, where one block after another is pulled out, until the whole thing comes crashing down.

From:

selenak

I do not wish to clear Madame du Berry in the eyes of posterity any more than Madame de Pompadour, or, above all, the King of France, for having on two occasions yielded to such base influences.

What fascinates me here is the snobbery allied to the late 19th century very different to the 18th century morality. Because evidently Louis XV had more than just these two as mistresses, it's in the nickname. Even discounting the teenage girls who never made it to official Maitresse en titre status, or to any kind of official mistress, just not en titre status. Louis XV had official mistresses pre Pompadour. But I am assuming the reason why these ladies are not considered as "base" is.... drumroll...they were of impeccably noble descent. Reinette was, shock horror, of non-noble middle class origin, and Du Barry started out even lower on the social scale, in addition the the prostitution.

I mean, good on the Duc to insist despite his biases that neither Pompadour nor Dubarry are the primary culprits here, which is more than one can say for other historians of the era, but good grief.

The philosophers, who were little scrupulous about the quality of the incense burned in their honour, were ready to applaud both the one and the other operation, provided an equal amount of compliments, or, in some cases, more substantial presents, in exchange for their approbation, were bestowed on themselves.

Valid zinger (except for Diderot). Mind you, it is also very French to only count the French philosophers as philosophers...

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Yes, this series is still going. :'D We're getting close to the end, though!

This installment is just going to be British foreign policy as it relates to Denmark, Sweden, Russia, and Poland. Mostly because trying to get a comprehensive grip on British foreign policy during the run-up to the American Revolution would have added months to this already months-long endeavor.

Britain's take on foreign policy in this period is that they're looking for a "system": a grouping of alliances based on common interests that will oppose Britain's enemies, balance-of-power style. Traditionally, this was Britain + the Netherlands + Austria against France and whoever's allied with France. But thanks to the Diplomatic Revolution, Austria is now allied with France, and after the Seven Years' War, Austria's not too happy with Britain for taking Fritz's side. Plus it's not the 17th century any more, and the Netherlands are no longer a major power.

So Britain's on a quest for an alliance to oppose the "Family Compact" system of alliances presented by France and Spain, both ruled by Bourbons.

They find that Panin has this nice "Northern Accord" in the making, meant to consist of Russia, Britain, Prussia, and Denmark, so they try to get in on the action.

However, they don't have a lot of luck, especially since they're not willing to offer subsidies. To quote one historian:

All secretaries of state in the sixties…were firmly convinced that any state with a proper sense of its dignity and interest ought to jump at the chance of a British alliance, without any financial inducements. Foreign powers, alas, were curiously obtuse about this.

In July 1766, Pitt takes office, determined to prove his predecessors were incompetent by quickly concluding a league with Prussia and Russia.

But Fritz is still pissed off about the subsidies, and over in Russia, Panin is making "devastating comments on the ineptitude of British policy" which the recently replaced British ambassador passes on to his government "with evident Schadenfreude."

Worse, Catherine's main interest is in an ally against the Turks, and the Brits trade too much with the Turks for that to be in their main economic interests.

And Fritz is, as we've seen, currently only interested in being friends with Russia (and maybe eventually Austria, especially when Russia gets out of control).

So the Brits turn to Denmark and Sweden, which previously had not been super important.

Denmark wants subsidies to replace their missing French subsidies, but Britain (as Fritz found out) doesn't give subsidies in peacetime. They're only willing to pay bribes (like to voting Swedes). Remember that they've just spent a lot of money on the Seven Years' War, and attempts to recoup their expenses result in raising taxes, which results in the American Revolution.

Failing subsidies, Bernstorff wants that guarantee of Schleswig-Holstein claims, but going to war with Sweden and/or Russia over Danish territory would be political suicide for a British politician.

But Sweden might prove to be the stepping stone to an alliance with Russia. Panin makes it clear more than once that if Britain concludes an alliance with Sweden, Russia would be willing to join it.

But things don't go very well in Sweden either! The British diplomat there, Goodricke, whom we've mentioned before, is actually energetic and opinionated. He does his research and stays on top of things not just in Sweden but in Denmark. And he's full of a ton of ideas about how to work the complicated Hat-Cap party system in Sweden, which mostly come down to "collaborate with Osterman, the Russian ambassador, but that means we have to carry our share of the bribery burden."

Unfortunately, what he gets from his "reluctant to spend money in peacetime" government is enough money to be a burden on taxpayers, but not enough to actually sway foreign policy. The British government specifically tells Goodricke to tell Osterman the money is just a favor to Russia, a gesture of goodwill, not an actual policy.

Goodricke is facepalming madly and writing frantic letters back home. He takes so much initiative that he gets used to being scolded and almost takes it in stride. Michael Roberts, who wrote a 500-page book about Goodricke's 15 years in Sweden, presents him as a less obnoxious Broglie: a guy who thought he knew better than the ministers at home, arguably did, and really just wanted to be running the foreign affairs department.

To no avail. When Gustav's coup comes, Goodricke is caught flat-footed, without money or instructions. The result of the coup is that bribing the Caps to vote a certain way no longer works, because the king is making the decision, and Sweden no longer has potential to be useful to Britain.

In that same year, the Polish Partition takes place, and France has been powerless to stop it. This causes Britain to suddenly realize they've been barking up the wrong foreign policy tree: France-Spain is no longer the power duo it once was, and the major diplomatic "system" in Europe with which Britain has to contend is Russia-Austria-Prussia. They are completely unprepared for this.

There are a few ministers in both Britain and France who realize that the only way to deal with this system is by doing a 180 on their worldview: a Anglo-French alliance. That's the only thing that can stop Fritz and Catherine (since the Vienna triumvirate decided "If you can't beat them, join them"). Some noises and overtures are made in this direction, but the tradition of mutual hatred between Britian and France is too strong.

Instead, Britain shrugs off the Polish Partition, ends up at war with France over the American Revolution, and watches Prussia and Russia continue partitioning Poland in the 1790s (sometimes with Austria). (There's an entire book called British Public Opinion and the First Partition of Poland that I've been eyeing, but I haven't yet bought it.)

How ineffectual the British foreign ministry was during the 1760s and early 1770s is debated. Some historians say it was bad, so bad. Others are like, "Come on, I'm not saying the department was being run by geniuses, but it wasn't *that* bad."

Given that Roberts, who's of the "SO BAD" school of thought, uses as evidence the fact that British envoys don't get any insights into big picture foreign policy, like the ambassador to Russia knows nothing about the policy in Sweden, even if he asks, whereas French and Russian diplomats get elaborate instructions…I'm kind of leaning toward "not great, but not super terrible either." I mean, yes, the French diplomats got elaborate instructions. Elaborate, contradictory, impossible, SECRET instructions from their different bosses that made their lives *impossible*...at least there seems to have been *one* British foreign policy at a time for a single diplomat?

From:

mildred_of_midgard

A brief quote from Brendan Simms, since as I said, we're not getting into the American Revolution other than in passing:

The fates of Corsica and Poland made a considerable impression in the thirteen colonies. Enthusiasm for the Corsican patriot Paoli and his resistance to French occupation peaked in late 1768-9. In part, this was generic sympathy with fellow victims of despotism, as Americans saw it, but there was also outrage, to quote a toast of the 'Sons of Liberty of Boston' at the 'infamous attack from France, while shamefully neglected by every power in Europe'. Some feared that because Britain was now so weak, America would go the same way and be partitioned at the hands of a Bourbon coalition. The progressive military retreat from areas beyond the Appalachians was symbolized by the abandonment of Forts Bute and Panmure on the Mississippi in 1768, and Fort Chartres in 1772, for reasons of cost. This was not encouraging for those colonists who saw their future within a dynamic and growing empire, and who wished to forestall French and Spanish claims to these regions. To them, the British Empire was already collapsing, long before the Revolution; indeed, it was this sense of imperial collapse which prompted them to rebel, not the other way around. Others, particularly those who opposed western expansion, thought that the Polish experience was an argument against independence from Britain, which would simply deliver them into the maw of her European rivals. All were sobered by events in Poland. Indeed, the Partition would have an important afterlife in America, resurfacing during the constitutional debates of 1787, when it was advanced as an argument against a weak central government in an age of predatory great powers. James Madison, for example, claimed that 'Germany and Poland are witness to the danger' of a weak executive influenced by outside powers. Americans had seen the Polish Commonwealth all but destroyed; a weak state had been dismembered in full view of Europe, and without the British ministry lifting a finger.

(Corsica is something I'm still looking for a good resource on; it looks like absolutely fascinating stuff was going on in this period with Paoli, and I've checked out Boswell's essay on Corsica, but I'm still looking for something written more recently.)

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: Britain

From:

luzula - Date: 2024-02-12 04:50 pm (UTC) - Expand

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: Britain

From:

cahn - Date: 2024-02-17 12:39 am (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Saxony. Saxony exists, right? They're the glaring omission in this write-up, and there's a reason for that: in 1763, August III, Brühl, and August III's son and heir, Friedrich Christian, all die within about 10 weeks of each other: October 5, October 28, December 17.

This was just as Friedrich Christian was starting to implement an independent (anti-Brühl) policy and get Saxony back on its feet after the catastrophic Seven Years' War, when the smallpox got him. Freaking smallpox.

His son with Maria Antonia is a minor, so that leaves Saxony in a state of political disarray. Friedrich Christian has brothers, who try to play for the throne of Poland and other places (like the Duchy of Courland), but who don't have enough resources of their own or support from allies to get anything noteworthy done in terms of a Saxon foreign policy in the 1760s and 1770s.

Sadly, that means the Saxony installment of this write-up ends here. A couple more posts from me on miscellaneous topics, and that'll be it!

From:

selenak

The Brühl biographers tend to think he lucked out with his death in as much as Friedrich Christian was bound to make him a scapegoat for the Seven Years War disaster, given someone needed to be and it couldn't be Fritz the winner.

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: Saxony

From:

mildred_of_midgard - Date: 2024-02-15 11:43 pm (UTC) - Expand

From:

mildred_of_midgard

In my research, I ran into a very unexpected character in an unexpected episode: Rousseau! While the Confederation of Bar was attempting to overthrow the Polish government and install a new government (themselves), they sent a diplomat to Paris to try to get support, a la Benjamin Franklin during the American Revolution.

This diplomat was Michał Wielhorski. When he showed up in Paris in 1770, this happened:

Wielhorski: Rousseau! A few years ago, when Corsica was in rebellion, you wrote up "How to govern a country" for it! Can you do the same for us? The Confederation is going to win this rebellion, and then we're going to need some good laws.

Rousseau: I'm entering the paranoid persecution mania stage of my career, but I haven't gone into total isolation here, so sure! Previously, I said that Corsica was the only nation in Europe capable of rational legislation, but now that someone is asking me to come up with some for Poland, suddenly I've discovered many traits about Poland and the Poles that will make it very other nations of Europe. The heroic love of the Poles for their fatherland is like that of the Romans, and they are closest nation to my favorite ancient governments (Sparta 4ever!), seeing as how most of Europe has well and truly diverged from that model.

Rousseau: Plus it's got a simple socio-economic structure and low degree of civilizational development, and it's somewhat protected from foreign influences. All nations are doomed to eventual failure, but Poland has a lot in its favor, since it lacks my least favorite corrupting developments: complicated economics, complex and hierarchical social structures, elaborate state mechanisms, active international relations and refined civilization. All those things just hold you back.

Rousseau: PLUS, all my enemies, like Voltaire and Grimm, are currently mocking the ineffectual anarchy of the Confederation of Bar, so I'm in the mood for talking up how the Confederation of Bar is the greatest thing ever.

Rousseau: One little problem: I don't know much about the details of Poland except what I've been able to osmose over the years. Not that this is a problem, as I don't consider myself excessively bound by reality, I like to make up governments from scratch based on ideals, but I need to know what I'm working with here.

Wielhorski: Not a problem! I have written a whole treatise, which you may draw on for your work. Then I will bring it to the attention of the rest of the Confederation, and it will be helpful to us in governing Poland after our extremely likely victory.

Rousseau: Excellent! After all, Catherine's in that war with the Turks, so soon they'll be able to dictate peace terms to her. A twenty-year treaty between Poland and the Turks, guaranteeing Polish independence, and you're set!

Wielhorski: Perfect! P.S. My treatise ignores all laws passed since Poniatowski became king, for the Confederation does not recognize him, and according to us, there's been an interregnum since August III died.

Wielhorski: So, getting into my treatise, Poland's number one problem: we have no diplomatic service to speak of, and no decent central army.

Rousseau: That's fine, you don't need one! A decent central army only brings trouble.

Wielhorski: …

Rousseau: All you need is a cavalry made up of your nobles, who will be obliged to serve.

Wielhorski: No peasant militia? I really wanted a peasant militia.

Rousseau: Burdensome for the country and dangerous to liberty.

Wielhorski: A functional economy? We could introduce reforms like other countries are doing.

Rousseau: Never follow the example of other countries! They are all degenerate.

Wielhorski: Okay. Well. Currently we have 'three estates': the king, the senate and the equestrian nobles, who assemble at the diet.

Rousseau: Nonsense! First of all, that's not how it currently works; your king is elected by the same people as make up the legislative body, and the king can't do anything without their agreement. He's not a separate estate. Second, the "will of the people" means *all* the people, as a body. It is against the law of nature to have only the nobility participating in the legislation.

Wielhorski: Including the peasants? Who are serfs?

Rousseau: Down with serfdom! Serfdom is bad!

Wielhorski: Well, of course, in principle slavery is bad. I am an enlightened man! However, we have this problem in Poland, which is that our serfs are "drunks, idlers and layabouts, and also insolent." If we free them, they will have no idea what to do with this freedom.

Rousseau: Hmm. That does sound like a problem. Okay, we can't just up and free the slaves. Maybe gradually, over the course of generations. We'll start with the really well-behaved ones: do a good job farming your own land and make it productive, and you can earn your freedom! Meanwhile, since I am Rousseau and EDUCATION is my thing, we will set up good education so that the peasants can gradually learn to understand and take advantage of liberty.

Wielhorski: Great! Plus, I promise that our implementation of serfdom isn't so bad. The owners of serfs can do whatever they want in theory, but in practice there are many customs restraining them.

Rousseau: Perfect! I accept your word on this. Now that we have made some noises in the direction of freedom, we have done our duty as enlightened men. Moving on, I do realize that it's impractical to have every single issue voted on by every single person, so I acknowledge representative government as a necessary evil.

Rousseau: What I propose instead is the local diets, the dietines, send representatives to the national diet with binding instructions. No faithless electors! If you vote against your instructions, you're fired. If an investigation finds it was because you were corrupted, death penalty for you!

Wielhorski: I like it! This is going to become a big thing amongst Polish republicans between now and the beginning of the end of Poland in 1792. In the big Four Year Diet in 1788-1792, it will become a major source of argument between the Patriotic Party, and Poniatowski, for Poniatowski is an Anglophile who wants to introduce the English way of doing representation.

Rousseau: I will be dead by then, so sounds good to me. In the meantime, the biggest problem with your country is not its weakness or the current prevailing anarchy, but that it's just so big. Smaller countries, like Corsica, are easier to reform. Perhaps a good outcome would be if your neighbors took over parts of your country and made it smaller.

Mildred: NO REALLY, HE SAID THAT.

So then that happened, and this whole treatise thing became an academic exercise, because Turkey did *not* dictate peace terms to the Russians (other way around), and Poland did *not* get its twenty years of being left alone, and shrinking the size of Poland did *not* make Poland stronger and easier to reform. But, as mentioned, Rousseau's ideas did at least have some effect on political thought in Poland for the next two decades. And I thought the project was at least *interesting*, if not exactly brimming with pragmatism and high chances of success.

Edited Date: 2024-02-15 12:41 am (UTC)

From:

mildred_of_midgard

Remember how Fritz was busy satirizing Poland while these events were going on? (Part of being a gangster with good PR is making sure your enemies/victims have bad PR!) This is his satire as seen through the eyes of Poniatowski's biographer Zamoyski:

In an epic poem begun in 1769, Le Chant des Confédérés, a work that occasionally rises to the level of barrack-room wit but mostly flounders in leaden caricature, Frederick brands the Polish nation as being just as it was at the Creation, 'brutish, stupid and without instruction'. The Bishop of Kiev is depicted as a crazed bigot who has a library with no books in it, only a collection of relics and a painting of the St Bartholomew's day massacre. (It is ironic that in his ignorance he should have picked on Załuski, who had collected and endowed the first public library on the European mainland.) Pułaski always flees from the battlefield and then takes his forces on an orgy of pillage and rape instead. (So much for the father of American cavalry.)

And the whole is presided over by 'the pathetic Stanisław', an epithet that recurs at the end of every stanza. The inference was that it was not through him that Europe could expect Poland to be saved.

Frederick sent the work, canto by canto, to his philosopher friends. "The poem on the Confederates is a very pleasant work, full of imagination, of action, and above all of gaiety,' wrote D'Alembert. He lapped it up with much sycophantic praise, and only registered a reservation when the philosopher-king's pen scratched his chauvinism. 'My sole anxiety', he wrote, 'is that the end of the stick with which Your Majesty beats the Poles should have gone so far as to touch the French noblemen who went to assist them.' Voltaire, to do him justice, was more sparing in his praise, and sat down to write something on the subject himself.

But then things change in 1771. Remember that this is during the 1768-1772 period of utter chaos in Poland, when the guerrilla warfare set off by the Confederation of Bar is running amok all over the country. Poniatowski is riding down the streets of Warsaw, returning from a visit to a family member, when he and his small escort are ambushed. Poniatowski is kidnapped! But as he's led away from the city, the group splits up, and then splits up again, and then two of his kidnappers get spooked and run off, and then there's only one rebel escorting him. Together, they get lost. Poniatowski tries offering him a reward in exchange for freedom, but the rebel kidnapper doesn't trust him. But he's also obviously very stressed about single-handedly trying to lead the king into captivity, so Poniatowski suggests the kidnapper run away to safety, and he promises to mislead any pursuers. Struck with gratitude, the kidnapper falls to his feet and swears undying loyalty to Poniatowski.

So they manage to get the king back to safety, where he fights the PR war by writing an account of his kidnapping that is read all over Europe. Poniatowski behaved with dignity and courage, which gains him some credit, and the whole episode has the effect of discrediting the rebels. Much like with Louis XVI two decades later, crowned monarchs in Europe go from "Sounds like you have some domestic problems, maybe I should take advantage" to "Oh, the rebels are manhandling crowned monarchs? That is just not on."

Even Fritz is forced to backpedal:

Voltaire confessed to being 'filled with grief and pity over the horrible attempt against the king of Poland', but the receipt of Frederick's next canto cheered him up and made him laugh. 'I am always surprised that you were able to make something so gay out of such a sad subject,' he complimented Frederick.

Frederick was too clever not to realise that the events of 3 November 1771 had made his ribald jollity out of place. Stanisław, whose international stature was miraculously enhanced by the events, could no longer be treated as a pathetic nonentity. The next instalment of Le Chant des Confédérés contained an unexpected apology. 'Oh! My good king, I accuse myself of having treated you sometimes too harshly...I am contrite,' wrote Frederick, and from now on the 'pathetic Stanisław' became 'this good king'.

Sadly, this improved PR is enough to help Poniatowski keep his throne, but not enough to keep his country from being partitioned out of existence. He will eventually lose his throne in a chain of events that is set in motion partly by the French Revolution (and Catherine's freaking out over same), which we may cover in detail if we ever get to the 1790s (though I warn you it is on my list only after the 1730s, 1740s, 1750s, Seven Years' War, and 1780s).

Edited Date: 2024-02-15 12:51 am (UTC)

From:

selenak

Le Chant des Confédérés sounds very much like the Palladion, alright. As I observed in my write-up of the later, literally quality or lack of same aside, the problem isn't just that political satires often age out of being comprehensible to a non-contemporary audience, but that a great satire tends to punch upwards, not downwards, and/or satirizes one's own country and people, not someone else's. Hence Byron making fun of the English (politics, manners and literature) and Heine making fun of the Germans (ditto) are funny, and the Palladion (making fun of the Austrians, the Spanish and the French) is not, and why one biographer observed that Fritz who loved Moliere's comedies (which very much make fun of the contemporary to Moliere French society) would have been unable to love Lessing's Minna von Barnhelm (targetting the Prussian military and society, among other things, and the direct aftermath of the 7 Years War), even if he had gotten over himself and read/watched a German play. So I am unsurprised his anti Polish satire was with the sledgehammer and very unfunny.