FW-G2 single combat: Sources

[mildred_of_midgard]

Lord Hervey's memoirs on the duel between FW and G2 that nearly happened:

Whilst the King was at Hanover he had several little German disputes with his brother of Prussia, the particulars of which being about a few cart-loads of hay, a mill, and some soldiers improperly enlisted by the King of Prussia in the Hanoverian state, I do not think them worthy of being considered in detail ; and shall say nothing further about these squabbles than that, first or last, both of them contrived to be in the wrong. And as these two princes had some similar impracticabilities in their temper, so they were too much alike ever to agree, and from this time forward hated one another with equal imprudence, inveteracy, and openness.

It was reported, and I believe not without foundation, that our Monarch on this occasion sent or would have sent a challenge of single combat to his Prussian Majesty; but whether it was carried and rejected, or whether the prayers and remonstrances of Lord Townshend prevented the gauntlet being actually thrown down, is a point which to me at least has never been cleared.

Bielfeld's correspondence on the same:

They say that this natural antipathy, which is worse than hatred, once rose so high that the two monarchs, after the example of Charles V. and Francis I., had determined to decide it by single combat; that the King of England had fixed on brigadier Sutton for his second; and his Prussian majesty had made choice of Colonel Derschau; that the territory of Hildesheim was appointed for the rendezvous. His Britannic Majesty was then at Hannover, and His Prussian Majesty was already arrived at Salzdahll, near Brunswick. Baron von Borck, who had been the Prussian minister at London, and who had been dismissed from that court in a most ungracious manner, arriving at Salzdahl, found the King his master in so violent a rage that he did not think it adviseable to directly oppose his design; but on the contrary, in order to gain time, seemed to approve of the choice of single combat, and even offered his service to carry the cartel. But entering the King's appatment an hour after, he took the liberty to say: "Sire, I am convinced that your majesties' quarrel should not be decided but by a duell, and if I am allowed the expression, as between one gentleman and another. But your majesty is scarce recovered from a dangerous illness, and have still the symptoms of your late disorder. How unfortunate therefore would it be, if you should relapse the evening before the combat, or even that very morning, and what triumph would it be for the English king? And what would the world say? what odious suspicions would it cast upon your majesty's courage? Would it not therefore be far better to postpone the entire affair for a few days, till your majesty's health is established?"

The King, they say, acquiesced, though with difficulty, in these reasonings; the cartel was not sent; the ministers of both sides gained time; the wrath of the two kings by degrees evaporated; and by the next year they became in a manner reconciled.

See also selenak's wonderful emoji ficlet on how this might have played out!

Per Koser (Kronprinz, p. 31), these events (the disputes about the hay and the recruiting of soldiers) took place in August 1729, and soldiers were mobilized.

Arneth, Prinz Eugen von Savoyen, vol 3. p 260. fn 39, p 568.

He declared to Count Seckendorff that he wanted to challenge his brother-in-law to a duel and fight a single combat against him.

39) Sedendorff an Eugen. 19. Juli 1729. Hausarch.

When Casanova met Voltaire

[mildred_of_midgard]

Write-up by selenak:

Trying to get to meet Voltaire was a must for European travellers not just in his old age, but pretty much since his thirties. It was easier once he had settled down in exile near Geneva, though. If the would be visitor in question was a young unknown like James Boswell, you got encounters such as this one; if, on the other hand, the other party was an 18th century superstar himself, well, then you get volume 15th of Casanova's memoirs. Background the first: Casanova's encounter with Voltaire takes place in 1760 (though he gets Voltaire's age wrong); at this point, Casanova is moderately famous for having managed to escape the The Leads, the notorious Venetian state prison, but he's by no means as universally known as he is today, as his memoirs have not yet been written. Some might even know him as a con man of the Saint Germain and Cagliostro type from his adventures in France. He's decades younger than Voltaire, true, but hitting middle age himself, and about to feel it soon. Voltaire, on the other hand, has been the most famous (French) writer of the age for good while, despite competition; his claim to literary fame is unquestioned, nor is his ability to piss off governments and authorities all over Europe (which is why he has ended up in Switzerland). Background the second: Also worth keeping in mind: by the time old Casanova writes his memoirs, stuck in a dead-end job as a librarian in Bohemia, Voltaire has died decades ago (being controversial even in death, due to the church's unwillingness to bury him in Paris), and the French Revolution has happened, irrevocably changing the world they had both known. For which Voltaire got, depending from your pov, some credit/blame.

On to the first encounter, which has Voltaire doing that thing people still do today, which is meeting someone from a place and automatically assuming they must know someone else from the same place. In other words, Voltaire is playing Six Degrees of Algarotti. To understand Casanova's attitude, bear in mind that while Casanova is, uncontestedly, the most famous 18th Century Venetian now, back then he wasn't; it was none other than, you guessed it, Francesco Algarotti.

( So did Casanova know Algarotti, and if so, how well did he know him? )

( Which is when a discussion of Italian literature becomes mutual show-off in declaiming by heart: Voltaire vs Casanova, it's on! )

(This gets Casanova an invitation to stay for three days chez Voltaire. Sidenote re: Ariosto: given Voltaire uses a simile from Orlando Furioso, from which they've just quoted, in his memoirs when talking about his hate/love relationship with Frederick the Great - who gets called "my Frederick-Alcina", casting Friedrich as the sorceress bewitching men into staying at her palace, I'm completely willing to believe he warmed up to Ariosto. As for everyone's tears, that was the custom of the day. 18th Century: when everyone, especially the men, cried a lot. Bless.)

( Voltaire advises budding author Casanova on booksellers )

(Sidenote: Voltaire was indeed one of the few writers with independent wealth. Which he had not inherited. As a young man, he'd decided that while money without talent was stupid, talent without money was a drag, and thus contrived by various deals, some of which shady, some legal, to make himself a fortune. More about where his income came from - indeed not from his writings - here.)

Casanova finds the time in between Voltaire audiences to have an adventure with three ladies, because of course he does. Then he tries his charm on Madame Denis, about whom he has a far more positive impression than your average 18th century memoir writer:

( Wherein we learn how Madame Denis feels about Frederick the Great and that Voltaire doesn't like losing at backgammon )

Casanova then has more adventures with the three ladies, and proceeds to spend the last of his three days with Voltaire. Alas, though, first they disagree about a book Casanova lent Voltaire, and then they argue politics. Specifically, whether or not humanity is ready for liberty, and what liberty means anyway. Three guesses as to who takes which attitude....

( Game on, Voltaire! )

And thus ended the meeting between two of the most famous pre-French Revolution people of the 18th century.

Next Fritz in the Movies Post: Mein Name ist Bach

[selenak]

Mein Name ist Bach is a Swiss movie (to be even more precise: a Swiss-French-German coproduction) which premiered in 2003. What it's about: a fictional rendering of the May 7th 1747 meeting of Friedrich II. and the Bach, Johann Sebastian. Co-starring JSB's two sons, Friedemann and Carl Philip Emmanuel (who has a steady, if not very well paid job with Fritz), and Amalie (representing all the Hohenzollern sibs except for Wilhelmine) and therefore having a far worse relationship with Fritz than in rl). Fritz is played by Jürgen Vogel, Bach by Vadim Glowna, Amalie by Karoline Herfurth, Friedemann by Anatole Taubmann and Carl Emmanuel by Paul Herwig. Quantz: Philippe Vuillemier. Director: Dominique de Rivaz. Bavarian fellow director Detlev Buck has a cameo as a customs officer, and Michel Cassagne as Voltaire at the very end of the movie. (When he arrives in Prussia three years too early.) The movie has Hohenzollern dysfunction meet Bach family drama and is focused on the emotional push and pull between Fritz and (JS) Bach. (Both trying to gain the psychological upper hand throughout the majority of the movie; Fritz starts by challenging Bach with a theme and a commission that he believes to be impossible to fulfill, Bach retaliates by not only rising to the composition challenge (via the "Musical Offering") but creating a situation where Fritz is not able to play it with his flute). It also deals with art versus power, art with power questions, and while mostly playing its drama straight has some surreal, even farcical touches now and then.

The Fritz characterisation is that of jerk woobie, with strong emphasis on the jerk, but there are intensely explored woobie moments, too. Bach learns at the start of the movie that he's going blind and is dealing (or not) with said news throughout the film, though he only tells his family near the end, and it influences his actions both towards his sons and towards Fritz somewhat, but in general, he's the model of a confident, fair minded artist and patriarch, and that Fritz both wants to adopt him as a so much preferable Dad and best him (because grr, argh, fathers) makes for the push and pull between the two main characters. Simultanously, there are several intermingling subplots going on: the Bach family plays out something of a prodigal son drama, i.e. Carl Philip Emmanuel, who is the "good", hard working son, Friedemann as the rebellious artist and bad boy who however both sons believe to be loved more by their father. Meanwhile, as mentioned the Hohenzollerns do a replay of their dysfunctional past, as Fritz treats Amalie the way his father has treated him, complete with verbal and physical abuse, and Amalie preparing a secret escape plan which gets foiled. The Amalie/Friedemann affair is one of the connections between the two plots; another is the question of the role of the artist, as all the characters, including the two Hohenzollern siblings, are gifted in this regard.

And last but not least: the movie does deserve credit for presenting Fritz unambiguously as gay, both in dialogue (in his inner monologue, he refers to Katte as his lover), and in action (both towards Goltz, the amalgan figure taking over both Fredersdorf's and Eichel's rl roles, and towards Friedemann in one scene. (I'll get the scenes in detail.) To my knowledge, it's the first movie to do so. What is utterly lacking (leaving aside some orders Fritz gives to Goltz regarding "Austria and its whore") is Fritz the politician and magnificent bastard. (Which makes it a great contrast to the Fritz depiction in Sachsens Glanz und Preußens Gloria, which is All Magnificent Bastard All The Time (doesn't even lose his cool in military defeat, solely if you kill his dog, then it's Scouring of Saxony time) and an even greater to the Fridericus Rex series of the Weimar Republic and then the Third Reich days.

On to the screencaps and jerkass woobie scenes analysis/detail. As far as I can telll, the producers must have secured permission to film at Sanssouci, too, though you see far less of it since part of the subplot is that it's nearly finished and Fritz personal household and court is about to move there. So most of the action takes place at the older Potsdam Hohenzollern palace and in Carl Emmanuel's house, most of which I suspect to be studio constructions. Otoh you can tell this is no tv production, the lighting is more cinematic - and uses actual candlelight a lot; otoh, the wigs are something to behold and are, err, less than authentic. Someone liked the punkier versions of Mozart's wigs in Amadeus a lot.

( Meet the cast: Quantz, Amalie, Fritz )

For about 23 minutes into the movie, Fritz has been presented as a jerk. Then the first woobie moment happens, ironically enough while a soldier is whipped for desertion, Fritz sits watching in the rain on a horse, broods and flashes back to Katte's execution and to his headless corpse. This is when his inner monologue in German - arguing with the late FW that he and his lover Katte have done nothing to be ashamed of - is slightly but significantly different from the English subtitles.

( Dialogue and screencaps of tormented flashback )

( When Hohenzollerns meet Bachs, next round )

And now we get to the next big woobie sequence interrupting Fritz the jerk, at around 1.06. Fritz is dictating his not quite abolition but severe limitation on the use of torture in the middle of the night to an exhausted Goltz who, like I said, seems to be take over the rl roles of both Fredersdorf and Eichel, and - something I couldn't appreciate back in the day - seems to have stolen Heinrich's wig:

( I'm Katte and you're me )

( Fritz-Bach Therapy Session in Middleearth )

Bach is sympathetic, but still has no intention of becoming a permanent fixture in Berlin, because look, Fritz, he has his own family drama going on (he's worrying that he didn't do right by his sons might have involuntarily ruined their lives) and is going blind. Being nicely turned down in his request for adoption is still being turned down, and so Fritz is in an extra bitchy mood when coming across Amalie, dressed as a man, and Friedemann in the stables. Amalie - who looks great in Prussian uniform, so if anyone wants to know how Wilhelmine in the getaway sequence from "Fiat Justitia" would have looked, somewhat like this - wants to run away with Friedemann. Friedemann is somewhat more realistic and also, as he tells her, attached to his head and very aware how running away with royals adventures end in her family. They do still have sex and that's when Fritz makes his presence known:

( Fritz, hitting on someone who had sex with his sibling, or: Amalie plays Heinrich, Friedemann is Marwitz )

( Epilogue: Guess who just arrives in Prussia? )

Wust and Hans Heinrich letters

[mildred_of_midgard]

Write-up by selenak.

When oracne asked about places to visit in Germany - a future topic - , mildred_of_midgard, jokingly, replied: Wust. The joke being that Wust, or, as it's referred to today in order to differentiate it from other places called "Wust" in Germany, "Wust-Fischbach", is a tiny village in the state of Brandenburg which attracts visitors for precisely two reasons.

1.) It has a beautiful Romanesque church which had gotten a baroque makeover in the seventeenth century, and was - a few decades after WWII and with much work and funding - restored, so that it's on the map for churches to visit, and

2.) the reason why it attracted funding when a great many other wrecked churches did not: it hosts the crypt and coffins of a family that once upon a time included the future Frederick the Great's dearest friend/possible lover, Hans Hermann von Katte, who after a botched flight attempt was executed in front of young Frederick on the King (i.e. Frederick's father's) orders.

This meant tourists in the 19th century already, not to mention some gruesome graverobbing. (Several bones from Hans Hermann's skeleton are gone because of that.) Last summer, when I was travelling through Brandenburg, I visited Wust for this reason as well, and you can see the photographic results here. You can't just enter the crypt even in non-Covid-times, you have to arrange a visit with one of the local historians ahead of time, and that's what I did, early in the morning, because last August was really really hot. Which meant I basically had the church and the crypt all to myself, and my local historian waited patiently while I took photos for Mildred, for the executed Hans Hermann von Katte is her favourite.

I was also a bit reminded of the last obscure little church I visited because of who was buried there, which was St. Mary Magdalene, Hucknall Torkard, which is where Byron (the poet) and his daughter Ada (aka Ada Lovelace of computer programming invention fame) are buried. (Being buried next to the father she hadn't known had been Ada's choice, and I very much suspect it was less about him and more about delivering a final slap to her mother, the relationship with whom had gotten worse and worse over the years. (To the point where said mother thought dying painfully of cancer would at least improve Ada's chances to repent and be a good Christian again before she died.) I visited decades ago, and there was no one there at the time, either, except for me, though the local custodian said an earlier visitor had left his calling card for correspondence with interested parties.

The local Wust historian and I traded Katte stories, some of which are mentioned in the earlier linked entry with the photos, and she also gave me some reading material for my friend the American scholar studying the Katte family (read: Mildred the Fritz/Katte shipper). Said material seems to have been lost in the transatlantic mail - though luckily I had scanned it before I mailed it to Mildred. My local historian from Wust, however, has now sent me another brochure full of local material, including some more Katte stuff.

This includes a short biographical essay on Hans Hermann von Katte by a much later member of the Katte clan, one Martin Katte, which we'd seen quoted elsewhere but so far had not been able to track down in accessible form. (Especially not in times of pandemic lockdown.) Martin Katte also wrote several memoirs, one of which I had read last year, and which depressingly showed me he was one of those early 20th century conservatives who manage to mention being bffs with a war criminal without as much as nodding to the fact he was a Nazi war criminal and in general think the major fault of the Third Reich was that it wasn't a monarchy headed by Hohenzollern.

However, Martin K. had had access to family papers which other historians had not had, which is the biographical essay he wrote on the 18th century Kattes is still worth reading. (Despite having been quoted from elsewhere, I mean.) Among other things, he includes more of the letters Hans Heinrich von Katte, the executed man's father, wrote after his son's death than I saw in other sources, and as these are incredibly telling about the mentality of the time and place, as well as being both touching and stupefying, I am translating them here. All (...) were made by Martin von Katte.

For interested readers who don't want to go through the whole extensive tale at rheinsberg, here are are the most important facts to know about the writer of these letters:

( Hans Heinrich background )

Now, Hans Heinrich, faithful subject to his King, faithful Protestant and deep believer in the military has to face how feels about his oldest son being executed as a deserter on explicitly the King's orders (when a life sentence otherwise would have been possible). Here are two letters he wrote, the first to his sister-in-law, the other to his brother

( Hans Heinrich letters )

Hans or Joachim Heinrich von der Gröben

[mildred_of_midgard]

gambitten turned up von der Groeben in this post:

( About Lieutenant von der Groeben )

felis found more:

( Letters to and about Groeben )

( The salon discusses )

In which the French royal family falls like dominoes

[mildred_of_midgard]

It's 1710. Louis XIV is King of France. The succession seems assured, as he has six male descendants, five of whom are eligible for the throne:

Son
Louis the Dauphin

Grandsons
Louis, Duke of Burgundy
Philip V of Spain (not legally eligible)
Charles, Duke of Berry

Great-grandsons
Louis, Duke of Brittany (son of Louis, Duke of Burgundy), born in 1707
Louis, (other son of Louis, Duke of Burgundy), born in 1710.

But then this happens!

1711: Louis the Dauphin, son of Louis XIV, dies of smallpox. Louis, Duke of Burgundy, becomes the Dauphin.
1712, February 12: The wife of the Dauphin dies of measles.
1712, February 18: The Dauphin, who loved his wife, stayed with her when she was sick, caught the measles from her, and didn't want to outlive her, also dies of measles. His 5-year-old son Louis becomes Dauphin.
1712, March 12: The new 5-year-old Dauphin dies of the same measles that got his parents.
1714: The Duke of Berry dies from a hunting accident.
1715: Louis XIV dies.

This means that when Louis XIV dies, he has two legitimate male descendants, Philip V of Spain, and a 5-year-old kid, the one whose parents and older brother died of measles within a single month, when he was only 2.

5-year-old kid becomes the Louis XV we know so well.

Who's regent?

Well, not Philip V of Spain. After the War of the Spanish Succession (1711-1714), he was only allowed to keep his throne on the condition that he renounce all his rights to France, on his own behalf and that of his descendants, in perpetuity.

Of course, when they started negotiating this treaty, he was a lot further along in the succession than he was when they signed it! Now it's one five-year-old kid standing between him and the throne. War is feared.

Normally, the kid's mother would be regent (as happened when Louis XIV inherited at the age of four), but remember, she died of measles. Grandma was long dead. So is great-grandma. Madame de Maintenon is in a morganatic marriage with Louis XIV, and morganatic marriages don't make you a shoo-in for regent.

So the regency goes to the next in line to the throne (ignoring the officially disqualified but very much feared Philip of Spain), Louis XIV's gay brother's son, Philippe d'Orleans.

But the regency doesn't go to him without a fight!

A number of Philippe's enemies are concerned he's going to off the 5-year-old so he can become king (not a problem when Mom is regent). One of those enemies, Madame de Maintenon, wants the Duc de Maine, illegitimate son of Louis XIV by his mistress Madame de Montespan, to be regent.

Louis XIV's final will legitimizes the Duc de Maine, gives him the real power, and gives Philippe an empty title. Then he dies.

The next day, Philippe summons the Parlement of Paris (not to be confused with a Parliament such as that of England) and gets them to annul the will. In return, he gives them all the rights they had previously enjoyed involving the vetoing of royal laws and actions, which Louis XIV had severely limited.

So that's the story of how Philippe II, Duc d'Orleans, against all probability, ends up as regent for Louis XV.

For the story of how Louis XV, against all probability, survived the measles that wiped out his family, his governess gets the credit. His older brother, being the next in line to the throne, and the doctors, paying more attention to him, did what 18th century doctors did: they bled him. The five-year-old died.

Two-year-old Louis was barricaded in his room by his governess, who wouldn't let the doctors near him, and stayed with him herself. And surprise! He survived! (Eventually he would die of smallpox, but not until his sixties.)

Go governess. Horowski tells me Louis XV loved her like a mother and called her Doudou (from her name, "Madame de Ventadour").