cahn: (Default)
cahn ([personal profile] cahn) wrote2024-01-13 03:36 pm
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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!
mildred_of_midgard: (Default)

1764-1772 Foreign policy: Satire and kidnapping

[personal profile] mildred_of_midgard 2024-02-15 12:51 am (UTC)(link)
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 2024-02-15 00:51 (UTC)
selenak: (Voltaire)

Re: 1764-1772 Foreign policy: Satire and kidnapping

[personal profile] selenak 2024-02-15 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
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.