Those of you who follow my blog, know I have written several posts about the Spanish Hapsburgs (I have provided selection at the bottom of this post) Obviously, I am rather fascinated by this family and its penchant for incestous marriages–but I have been stuck on the Spanish branch of the family. Well, beyond casual mentions of Austrian Hapsburgs involved in the Defenestration of Prague or with Tycho Brahe. The Austrian Hapsburgs are fascinating in their own right, playing a central role in European history, be it by participating in the Thirty Years’ War or holding off the Ottomans in the 1673 Battle of Vienna. (And no, the Battle of Vienna was not a pitched battle between Muslims and Christians–it was about power and land. The French, f.ex., took the opportunity to attack Austrian possessions while their dear ally, the Ottoman Emperor, made for Vienna) Right up to the shooting of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914, the Austrian Hapsburgs continued to be one of the major powers in Europe, plus, of course, most of us have heard of the little Hapsburg princess, Maria Antonia, a.k.a. Marie Antoinette.
I have, however, never been drawn to the Austrian empire of the 18th century – you know, the capable Empress Maria Theresa and her gigantic brood of children -until I picked up a book called The Archduchess Investigates: The Case of Princess Schwarzenberg, Part 1. I have now also read Part 2 – and I emphasise that one really must read both parts – and have developed quite the fondness for Archduchess Maria Anna – well, Mariannne to her friends. I have attached a review further down.
But before the review, I am delighted to turn you over into Martina Grenze’s capable hands as she sheds light on Empress Maria Theresa and her relationship with her eldest surviving daughter, Archduchess Maria Anna.
Mother and Daughter Relationship: The Case of Empress Maria Theresa and Archduchess Maria Anna
According to the unanimous accounts of both contemporaries and later biographers, Maria Theresa was considered a model mother for her time. She was frequently praised for her progressive views on healthcare, hygiene, diet, and education, as well as for promoting artistic and manual skills. By the standards of the era, she was exceptionally hands-on: she personally selected tutors and educators, required weekly reports on her children’s progress, and even composed written assessments analysing each child’s personality, talents, and inclinations. In these, she instructed governors and governesses on how to correct undesirable habits or deficiencies of character. It is often said that the Empress embraced a more bourgeois approach to childcare than the traditional aristocratic one of the distant royal mother.
Maria TheresaHowever, we should not too hastily fall into enthusiastic admiration, for the reverse side of her system was far from flawless. Despite being a mother many times over, Maria Theresa was, above all, a monarch and a politician, rather over-controlling and authoritarian with her offspring. Overwhelmed by affairs of state, she rarely had the time to engage with each of her ever-growing brood individually, and in practice tended to regard them as a collective rather than as unique personalities. Perhaps the most unfortunate aspect was her strong personal preferences — both positive and negative — which she neither could nor wished to conceal. Sadly, these openly expressed partialities intensified with time rather than softening. They strained sibling relationships and fostered bitter rivalries that persisted well into adulthood.
Maria Theresa’s unhappy biases were particularly visible in her relationships with her daughters. Her favourites were Maria Christina and Maria Elisabeth, who embodied all the conventional virtues expected of high-born princesses: elegance, beauty, and a pleasantly idle disposition untroubled by any intellectual ambition. The first enjoyed exceptional privileges, including being spared from a political marriage; the second was celebrated for her beauty, which was meant to secure her a brilliant match.
Standing in sharp contrast were Maria Anna — my protagonist—and Maria Amalia. Both received noticeably less maternal affection, and their relations with their siblings were strained. Amalia, the younger, was lively, curious, clever, and strong-willed — traits the Empress viewed with distrust. Years later, the harsh coercion that forced her into a detested marriage irreparably damaged her relationship with her mother. She was, however, the only daughter Maria Theresa could not dominate.
MarianneEven more troubled was the relationship between the Empress and Maria Anna, the eldest surviving daughter. Marianne, as she was called within the family, had the misfortune of being the least loved of all Maria Theresa’s children, virtually excluded from any experience of maternal tenderness. Unsurprisingly, this sad reality shaped her prospects and opportunities throughout her life.
Untangling the web of contradictory emotions binding mother and daughter was one of the central aims of my research and forms an essential thread in the narrative. Without understanding this bond — or the fractures within it — it would be impossible to grasp the protagonist’s character and motives.
I believe the root cause lay in the early days of Maria Theresa’s reign. During those harrowing months, when her hereditary rights were threatened on all sides, she desperately needed a son: a legitimate heir to her lands and a pledge of dynastic continuity. Despite having already proved her health and fertility by bearing three daughters in quick succession — Marianne among them — the dynasty viewed this as a failure. The young mother was not spared from malicious whispers at court about her ability to produce a male heir who, even if weak, would have served as a political guarantee. In such circumstances, the birth of Joseph, the future emperor, must have felt like a divine mercy.
Emperor Franz, Maria Theresa’s hubbyYet the anxieties of those crisis years did not simply vanish. With two of her “dynastically useless” daughters dying in infancy, Marianne, the sole survivor of the early trio, came to embody — in her mother’s eyes — the frustration and disappointment of those difficult beginnings. Her frail health caused constant concern; her intelligence and thirst for knowledge were deemed unfeminine; her appearance was considered plain; her marriage prospects were non-existent. In her vast correspondence, the Empress hardly mentioned her. Marianne’s brother Leopold noted in his diary that their mother scolded and criticised his sister relentlessly and seemed displeased by everything she did. Over the years, Maria Theresa’s attitude appears to have hardened into an almost irrational irritation provoked simply by her daughter’s presence. No doubt the poor Archduchess endured many dark moments.
Yet I do not wish to end on a sombre note. After years of research, I am convinced that Marianne ultimately achieved a deep sense of self-realisation and fulfilment. Curiously, what at first seemed a mere summary of her personal tragedy proved to be her most effective remedy — her ambivalence and inner potential make her character so compelling for an author. As unexpected as it may sound, I believe she was the happiest of all Maria Theresa’s daughters — not through splendour or acclaim, but through her inner strength, curiosity, and equilibrium of mind.
I hope to continue exploring her growth through the many new stories still waiting to be researched and written. Meanwhile, you are warmly invited to follow The Private Lives of the Habsburgs on Facebook and to visit archduchessinvestigates.com to learn more about the brilliant and talented Archduchess.
Thank you Martina! And yes, the strained relationship between mother and daughter is very apparent in your book. Fortunately, Marianne at least has a loving father. Now on to my review of the first book:
There is some immediate confusion when opening this book, as protagonist Archduchess Maria Anna suddenly switches to become Marianne. Another immediate reaction is a sensation of drowning in a deluge of names, countesses and princesses. The third reaction is one of curiosity: yes, this reader is sufficiently familiar with Habsburg history to understand just who Marianne is—and who her impressive Maman is—but to get this detailed insight into the lives of the imperial family is something of a treat.
The case surrounding the tragic Princess Schwarzenberg is somewhat contrived—a perfect excuse for the author to share her impressive knowledge about 18th century thoughts round vampirism, burial practices among the Habsburgs, court etiquette, the fraught political situation of the times, contemporary best-sellers and 18th century medicine (because our Marianne is a frail young woman). All this without ever reading like an info dump – it is more of an intellectual smorgasbord, reflecting the intelligence and curiosity of Marianne. She may be frail, she may have days when she is restricted to her bed, but with the case of Princess Schwarzenberg our young protagonist can flex her intellectual skills. There is also a deeply personal angle; a daughter living under the heavy thumb of a dominant mother who expects perfection at all times. And Marianne doesn’t live up to expectations: too frail, too intelligent and too plain.
The Archduchess investigates is a tour de force, submerging the reader in the cultural aspects of the 18th century Austrian empire. This is what makes the book stand out, not the mystery our archduchess is investigating which ends in a denouement that is far too brief and hurried (but which, I have later learned, carries over into book 2 about our Archduchess) I would personally have preferred to hear more about this brilliant young woman’s distanced relationship with her equally brilliant but not so affectionate mother, Empress Maria Teresa.
In conclusion, The Archduchess Investigates is a book that constantly nudges my curiosity, causing me to google repeatedly. As a mystery, it doesn’t quite captivate, but that doesn’t matter to this reader, who has fallen totally in love with dear Marianne!
***
Now, as stated previously, I have now also read the second book. It is a tad confusing that it starts with Chapter 23, but that is because it is a tight, tight sequel to the first book. I will post my review in due course, but I will readily admit that I loved the second book even more than the first! I have, however, developed a slight dislike for Maria Theresa and her rather odious eldest son, Joseph. I suspect Marianne and I see eye to eye on him!
So: if you love everything 18th century, be it fashion, Sèvre porcelain (in a NEW, instantly coveted shade of pink), maps, politics – because Martina does an excellent job of weaving the conflicts between Prussia and Austria into her narrative, by the by offering insight into the Great Northern War fought some decades earlier – then I recommend you rush off and buy BOTH books. Now!
Find out more about Martina – and contact her here: https://archduchessinvestigates.com/personae/
Her email address is public and appears throughout the website as well as on the Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/thearchduchessinvestigates
Another convenient way to reach Martina is through the group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/852494926811461
The group allows for more interaction and participation through sharing, commenting, etc.
For purchasing ePub or hardcover editions: https://archduchessinvestigates.com/shop/
A video introducing the novel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8Qf1wm63E8
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/52953900.Martina_Grenze
BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/martinagrenze.bsky.social
Some of my previous Hapsburg posts:
When a Spanish señorita set an English princely heart aflutter