Part 25

Stephen Bathory, the duke of Transylvania, was the successful candidate. Under his short reign, Poland saw the last years of its prosperity; and from the epoch of his death, the spirit of faction prevailed over every sentiment of justice or patriotism. The king had no further authority to concede; and internal feuds, sustained by the most bitter passions, now divided the nobility.

It was in 1586 that king Stephen died. At that time Poland extended from Brandenburgh and Silesia to Esthonia; its power along the Baltic was undisputed; and the shores of the Euxine had as yet submitted to no other dominion. Wallachia and Hungary were its southern limits; while, in the east, it still contended with Russia for an extended frontier. Its soil was productive of the most valuable returns; its plains were intersected by navigable rivers; its population amounted to sixteen millions, and its resources seemed to promise the means of easily sustaining more than three-fold that number. The principle of religious equality was recognized by its law; and it believed itself to possess a greater degree of liberty than any nation of Europe. How could such a state, so magnificent in its resources, so commanding in its actual strength, so celebrated for daring valour, sink into the gloom and debility of anarchy? How could such a nation in its glory submit to unconnected activity, and, like the fabled Titan, suffer the birds of prey to gorge upon its vitals, without one effectual struggle in self-defence?

The wildest spirit of party was displayed at the next election of a king. The factions were respectively led by two powerful and ambitious families; and to the former evils in the state were now added those political feuds, fostered by the passion for aggrandizement, and rendered virulent by the excess of personal hatred. The dominant party declared Sigismund III. to be elected the king of Poland.

The new king was, unluckily, first, an imbecile and narrow-minded man, with all the obstinacy belonging to weakness; next, he was heir to the Swedish throne; thirdly, he was a bigotted Catholic; and, lastly, and for Poland the saddest of all, he lived to reign forty-five years. His blind stupidity left the storms of party to rage unrestrained, and the usurpations of the nobility to proceed unchecked: his hereditary claim on Sweden, which wisely rejected his right, and preferred Gustavus Adolphus, led to a war, in which Poland was the chief sufferer; his bigotry prevented him from healing the intestine divisions by wise toleration; and, finally, his long life gave almost every one of his neighbours an opportunity of aggrandizement by aggressions on his realm. The dismemberment of the Polish dominions began. The Porte secured Moldavia; the Swedes took possession of Livonia and Courland; and, though the short anarchy in Russia led to some success in that quarter, it was a greater loss that the Elector of Brandenburgh, contrary to the stipulations of ancient treaties, claimed and obtained the succession to the fief of the Prussian Dutchy. In short, the reign of Sigismund was marked by deadly errors of policy, and foolish obstinacy of character. The continued oppression of the peasantry, and the constant recurrence of eventual losses in wars, were in no degree compensated by the display of warlike virtues on the part of a democratic nobility.

It was of little advantage to the Poles, that Ladislaus IV., the son and successor of Sigismund, was a man of distinguished merit. At his accession the nobles devised a new condition. Hitherto they had guarded themselves against taxation; they now proceeded to tax the king. For a long period, one quarter of the income of the royal domains had been set apart for the military service, especially for the artillery; they now demanded a concession of a full moiety. But, it may be asked, what was done for the people? The answer would be, absolutely nothing. It did not seem to be imagined, that the labouring class had any rights; not a law was proposed for the benefit of the millions, who cultivated the soil. Even the peasants on the estates of the king were equally oppressed;--why? It was the nobles who farmed the royal domains.

Every thing stagnated. Every thing, do we say? The natural instinct of freedom in the Cossacks could brook their abject servitude no longer. They reclaimed their partial independence, complained that their rights were infringed, and found demagogues, who were desirous and were able to lead them.

At this crisis the king died, and his brother, John Casimir, a man tried by misfortunes, who, having been the inmate of a French dungeon, afterwards, from disappointment and chagrin, became a Jesuit and a Cardinal, was elected his successor.

The powers and the revenues of the king had been plundered; one thing more was alone wanting to give full development to the Polish constitution. In the year 1652, a diet was dissolved by the opposition of a single deputy; this was remarkable enough; but it was still more strange, that what had been once effected by passion, should remain an acknowledged right; and that while the country rung with curses against the deputy who had set the example, the power should still have been claimed as a sacred privilege. No redress could be obtained except by confederations; and it was now the height of anarchy, that public law recognized these separate assemblies. Indeed, the days of the _liberum veto_ were necessarily the days of legalized insurrection. It was a sort of dictatorship, invented for the new contingency. Only the misery was, that there could be as many confederations as there were separate factions.

Poland had, all this while, formidable foreign enemies to encounter. The Swedes, the Czar, the Porte, were all greedy for aggrandizement. This was no time for domestic dissensions. The only wonder is, that the nation could have resisted its enemies at all. As it was, several provinces were lost; in 1657, the Duke of Prussia seized the opportunity of freeing himself altogether from his relation as vassal to the Polish crown.

The melancholy Casimir could not endure all this. He held a diet in 1661, and told the deputies plainly: "First or last, our state will be divided by our neighbours. Russia will extend itself to the Bug, and perhaps to the Vistula; the Elector of Brandenburgh will seize upon Great Poland and the neighbouring districts; and Austria will not remain behind, but will take Cracau and other places." The prophecy was uttered in vain; and a few years after, the philosophic monarch, having buried his wife, for whose sake alone he had been willing to reign, resigned the crown, and removed to France.

This was a new state of things. A diet of election was convened, and the decree ratified, that _henceforward no king of Poland should be allowed to resign_. One would think the decree very flattering to the nation!

The next object was the choice of a king. We have seen, that the Poles had usually elected a member of the previous royal family. They had adhered to the Jagellons, and now also to the Sigismunds, until the families were extinct. The field was therefore open; and this time the division lay, not between contending factions of the high aristocracy, but between the high aristocracy, on the one hand, and the "plebeian nobility," on the other. The party of "the many" prevailed; and the electoral vote was given to Michael Wisniowiecki, a man of great private worth, poor, as to his fortunes, modest, and retiring. The joy of the inferior nobility was at its height; and the shouts of the noble multitude, and the salutes from the artillery, proclaimed aloud the triumphs of equality. Poor Michael declined the honour, in vain. He entreated, with tears in his eyes, to be released from it. His tears were equally vain. He made his escape from the electoral field on horseback; the deputies pursued him and compelled him to be king.

From the commencement of his reign the faction of the high aristocracy opposed him. The first diet which he convened was broken up; the senate was openly discontented; the enthusiasm of the nobility grew cool; and it was found that a mistake had been committed. The Cossacks were tumultuous; the Turks pursued a ruinous war, terminated only by a disgraceful peace. The nation was indignant; a new war was decreed; when, fortunately for himself and the state, the king died. John Sobieski, the leader of the aristocracy, succeeded.

The relief of Vienna, in 1683, is the crowning glory of Sobieski. His subsequent campaigns were unsuccessful; for he had neither sufficient troops, nor money, nor provisions, nor artillery. Nor was he happy in his family. The great champion of Christendom was governed by his wife, and the nation sneered at his weakness. His ambition as a father led him to desire, during his lifetime, the election of his son as successor. Unable to accomplish this, he took to avarice, not a very respectable passion for a private man, but a very dangerous one for a prince. But in avarice he had able auxiliaries in his wife and the Jews. Every thing was venal; and the king grew rich, without growing happy. As a last resort, he tried retirement and letters. But the pursuit of letters, in itself intrinsically exalted, must be chosen in its own right, if happiness is to be won by it; to the disappointed statesman it is but a mere shield against despair; a sort of philosopher's robe to hide the ghastliness of sullen discontent. Sobieski found in the Latin classics, which he diligently read, no healing "medicine for the soul diseased;" and the atrabilious humours of his wife, and the torment of his station, and his mental discontent, all combined to hasten his death. He passed from this world on the same hour and the same day as his election.

We have traced the progress of the infringements upon the royal authority; we have seen the election of the king decided by a faction in an oligarchy, by a rabble of noblemen, by the high aristocracy; the next election was decided by bribes. Two strong parties only appeared; the French, which declared for Conti, and the Saxon, which advocated the interests of the Elector Augustus. But the French ambassador had distributed all his money, while the Saxon envoy was still in Funds. So each party chose its own king; each made proclamation of its sovereign; each sung its anthem in the Cathedral; but the French party subsided, as soon as the primate, its chief support, could agree upon his price.

Thus the Saxon elector prevailed. He was one of the most dissolute princes of the age; and an unbounded luxury and abandoned profligacy were introduced by him among the higher orders in Poland. The morals of the nobility now became nearly as bad as their political constitution. What need have we to dwell on the personal war which Augustus II. commenced against Charles XII. of Sweden; the defeats he sustained; his forced resignation of the crown; the appointment of Stanislaus in his stead; and his own restoration after the battle of Pultawa? The leading point in his history is this: that with him the Russian ascendency in Poland was established. All the rest of Europe was rapidly advancing in culture; the only change in Poland was the predominance of Russia.

On the death of Augustus II. the majority of the votes was in favour of Stanislaus; but the vicinity of a Russian army sustained the pretensions of Augustus III. His reign, if reign it may be termed, extended through a period of thirty years. They were interrupted by no wars; not because the nation desired or profited by peace, but in consequence of the general inertness, the universal languor, the unqualified anarchy. The king possessed no power, except through the miserable expedients of an intriguing cabinet. The cities were deserted; the regular administration of justice was unknown; and the barbarism of the middle ages reverted. Nothing preserved Poland in existence, but the jealousies of surrounding powers.

The last king of Poland was chosen under the dictation of Russian arms, at the express desire of Catharine the Second. Stanislaus Poniatowski was crowned at Warsaw in 1764, and ascended the throne with philanthropic intentions, but with a feeble purpose. His reign illustrates the vast inferiority of the virtues of the heart to the virtues of the will. The difficulties of his position do not excuse his own imbecility; and while the paralysis of the nation was complete, he was himself deficient in the manly virtues of a sovereign.

Within nine years after his accession to the throne, the first dismemberment of Poland was consummated. The student of human nature might ask, by what mighty armies the division was effected? What overwhelming force could lead a nation of nobles to submit to the degradation? What bloody battles were fought, what victories were won in the struggle? It might be supposed, that all Poland would have started as if electrified; that the ground would have been disputed, inch by inch; that every town would have become a citadel, garrisoned by the stern lovers of independence and national honour.

The fall of Poland was ignominious. Not one battle was fought, not one siege was necessary for effecting the division. Anarchy, intolerance, scandalous dissensions, an imbecile sovereign, these were the instruments which accomplished the ruin of the state.

The personal adherents of Stanislaus had designed to change the form of government from a legal anarchy to a limited monarchy. This patriotic design of the Czartorinskis was defeated by the hot-headed zeal of the republican party, by the influence of Russia, and most of all, by the excesses of intolerable bigotry.

The dissidents had, in the early part of the century, incurred suspicion, as the secret adherents of Sweden. If in England, where culture had made such advances, the Catholics could be disfranchised, is it strange, that in Poland, a vehement party was opposed to the toleration of Protestants? In 1717, unconstitutional enactments had been made to their injury; and at subsequent periods, the religious tyranny had proceeded so far as to exclude the dissident from all civil privileges. They were excluded from the national representation, and declared incapable of participating in any public magistracy whatever.

On the accession of Stanislaus it was hoped that a more moderate and equitable spirit would prevail. Stanislaus himself favoured the cause of religious freedom. The dissidents made a very moderate request for the establishment of freedom of worship, without claiming the restitution of all their franchises. The zealots, strengthened by the opponents of the king, would concede absolutely nothing; and as in politics religious parties have always exhibited the most deadly hostility, so in this case Poland was more distracted than ever.

The Russian ambassador immediately seized the opportunity of making Russian influence predominant under the mask of protecting liberty of conscience. The empress demanded for the dissidents a perfect equality with the Catholics; and amidst scenes of tumultuous discussion and legislative frenzy, the demand was rejected. The highest religious zeal became combined with a detestation of Russian interference, and unbridled passion accomplished its utmost.

The dissidents, unsuccessful in their application to the diet, confederated under Russian protection; and as the proceedings of the king had excited a vague apprehension of some encroachments on the privileges of the nobles, the confederates were joined by the opponents of the king also. In this way a general confederation was formed agreeably to the established usage in Poland; but the whole was under the guidance and control of Repnin, the Russian ambassador.

When the general diet was convened in 1767, so large a Russian army was already encamped in Poland, that Repnin was able to dictate the petitions and the complaints which were to be presented for consideration. No foreign power interfered. France and Austria were exhausted; and Frederic was careful to preserve a good understanding with his great Northern ally.

But with all this, some refractory spirits appeared in the diet. No terrors could subdue the inflexible and impassioned spirit of Soltyk, Zaluski, and the two Rzewuskis. And what was done by an ambassador of the foreign power in the capital of a free and mighty state? Repnin ordered the resolute patriots to be seized by night and transported to Siberia. Horror chilled the nation at the outrage, and the rage of despair filled all but the partisans of Russia. The ambassador of Catharine was now able to dictate to the diet all the decrees relating to the dissidents, and all the other laws which were enacted at the session. It was plain, that he did not understand the wants of the dissidents; but he took care to render the continuance of Russian interference necessary for their security.

It was the misfortune of the Polish patriots, that the defence of their nationality became identified with the most furious form of religious bigotry. The diet had not terminated its session before a new confederation convened at Bar, and contending against the Russians on the one hand, attempted to depose the king on the other. But the confederation was easily dissolved by the Russian army, and its leaders were obliged to fly for refuge beyond the frontier.

Thus the cause of the Poles seemed to be abandoned by all the world. The efforts of the king were insignificant; the nobles were many of them in the pay of Russia, the rest of them divided by civil, religious, and family factions; and England and France were idle spectators of the approaching dissolution of the Polish state.

Yet one power there was, whose ancient maxim would not allow a Russian army in Poland. While all the Christian monarchs neglected or joined to pillage the unhappy land, the Porte declared war against the aggressor. The issue of that contest is well known; and the power of Russia was but the more confirmed by her entire success in the war. Russian ascendancy in the North and East became established, and the last hope of Poland was removed.

When at length the three principal powers invaded Poland, and published their manifesto, proclaiming its dismemberment, the nation submitted almost without a struggle. The blow came as upon one in a lethargy. The revelries of the wealthy nobility, the feuds of the great families, and the wretchedness of the peasantry, continued as before.

It may be asked, who first planned the partition of Poland? We believe it was Frederic. Austria was indeed the first to advance her frontier; but every thing tends rather to show, that the Austrian cabinet insisted upon its share, only because the robbery was at all events to be committed; and Russia had no interest in proposing a division, for she already virtually possessed the whole. Frederic, on the contrary, was earnestly desirous of consolidating and uniting his kingdom, of which the parts were before divided by Polish provinces.

Previous to this first division in 1773, Poland had possessed a territory of about 220,000 miles; her neighbours now left her about 166,000. Prussia and Austria would gladly have taken more; but Russia protected the residue, as prey reserved for herself.

Or rather, the Russian ambassador in Warsaw, was from that time the real sovereign over the land. A secret article in the treaty with Prussia guaranteed the liberties and constitution of Poland, that is, stipulated that the state of anarchy should continue.

And yet it seems surprising, that a nation of fourteen millions, and of proverbial valor should have submitted without a blow. The result can be explained only from the abject state to which the peasantry had become reduced, and the immense gulf which separated the nobility from the people.

But a new epoch was opening in the history of the world. The United States of America had achieved their independence, and established their liberties. The impulse was instantaneously felt throughout Europe, and it extended to Poland. The relative position of the Northern European powers was also changed. The alliance between Russia and Prussia had expired in 1780, nor had the Empress been willing to renew it. On the contrary, the alliance of Austria was preferred, and the new associates combined to engage in a war with the Porte. The purpose of dismembering the Turkish state was avowed, and the Poles foresaw full well, that their own territory would next be coveted. They therefore determined to shake off the intolerable yoke of foreign interference, and, observing that their constitution was absolutely in ruins, they ventured to attempt a reconstruction of their state.

The condition of the public mind in France had its share of influence. The Polish nobility had long been partial to the language and manners of France. Nor were the two countries in situations wholly unlike. Both states were disorganized; one was suffering from anarchy, the other tending to it; and both needed a renewal of their youth. On the Seine and on the Vistula, a new order of things was demanded. The United States had been the first state in the world to introduce a written constitution; Poland was now the first country in Europe to imitate the example.

It was in October, 1788, that the revolutionary diet assembled at Warsaw. It assembled tranquilly: for Austria and Russia were at war with the Porte, and Sweden had also threatened St. Petersburg from the north. Its first decree abolished the _liberum veto_. Henceforward, the will of the majority was to be the law.

But even yet the spirit of faction was unsubdued. A Russian party,--a minority, it is true, yet, under the circumstances, a formidable one, introduced divisions into the diet. The king himself had not lofty independence enough to join heartily with the patriots, but still continued to hope for the political safety of his country, from the clemency of Catharine.

A treaty of alliance with Russia against the Porte, was proposed to the diet and rejected, in part, through the influence of Prussia. It was next voted to raise the Polish army, from 18,000 to 60,000; and, if possible, to 100,000 men. To effect this object, the nobility and clergy voluntarily submitted to taxation. The control of the army was entrusted not to the king, but to a special commission.

Some foreign support was next desired; and the political position of Prussia, gorged though she had been with the spoils of Poland, seemed yet under the reign of its new king to offer a safe and resolute protector. The court of Berlin published to the world its determination to guarantee the independence of Poland, and to avoid all interference in its internal concerns.

Stanislaus wavered, and evidently leaned to the Russian side. The decision of the diet at length won him over to the party of the patriots;--and he agreed to assist in expelling the Russian army from the Polish soil, in forming a constitution, and in soliciting the concurrence of other nations in repressing the unmeasured aggrandizement of Russia. These proceedings were not without effect;--in June of the following year, the ambassador of Catharine announced that her army had left Poland, and would not again cross its boundaries.

The diet now advanced to the work of framing a constitution; while the representatives of the third estate were, in the meanwhile, admitted to a seat in the assembly.