READING HALL

BLESSED BE THE PEACEFUL BECAUSE THEY WILL BE CALLED SONS OF GOD

THE HISTORY OF POLAND

CHAPTER III

THE EXTINCTION OF A KINGDOM

[1696-1796 A.D.]

Sobieski and his intrigues, so long a stumbling-block of offence in the eyes of the Poles, were no more; but the rancour and vehemence of contention still survived. A people in this dissentient state of feeling were not likely to be calm, impartial adjudicators. Whilst the most powerful Polish and foreign interests were nullifying each other by opposition, a noble of inferior rank and influence started a new candidate, and carried his point. This was no other than John Przependowski, castellan of Kulm, who had first united with the prince of Conti, one of the most popular of the candidates for the Polish crown. But he wished to derive some profit from his vote, and finding the prince’s finances exhausted, he looked round the different courts for another patron. He was bold and born for intrigue, and therefore well adapted for his present purpose. He had married the daughter of General Fleming, who was then in high favour with Frederick Augustus, elector of Saxony, and afterwards his prime minister. This connection brought him in contact with the elector, whom he found just suited for his design. Augustus was a young, wealthy, ambitious monarch. “No prince was ever more generous,” says Voltaire, “gave more, or accompanied his gifts with so much grace.” His religion, professedly the Lutheran, stood in the way; but there is something that will remove more mountains than faith, and it was opportunely remembered that the. young elector had recanted the Reformed belief two years before, during a sojourn at Rome, and lie was now as good a Catholic as the Poles or the pacta conventa could require.

Money purchased Augustus plenty of votes, but as he was late in the field there were some too firmly engaged by the prince of Conti to be decently transferred. The consequence was that on the 27th of June, 1697, both were elected by their different partisans, the archbishop declaring Conti king, and the bishop of Cujavia, Augustus. But notwithstanding the informality of the latter election, nothing was to be said to the ten thousand Saxons with whom he came to take possession of his kingdom; he was acknowledged king, and the prince of Conti sailed back to France unanointed.

But Augustus had not yet been crowned, a ceremony essentially requisite to invest him with full authority, and he was anxious that it should take place. There was some difficulty even in this; all the regalia were locked up in the treasury at Cracow in the keeping of officers in Conti’s interest. The law forbade breaking open the doors, but the Saxons “laughed at locksmiths” and broke down the wall. It was also necessary that the archbishop should perform the ceremony, but he also was in the other interest; the diocese was therefore declared vacant, and newly filled. There was still another impediment—the funeral of the late king ought to precede the inauguration, and the corpse was in the hands of Conti’s party at Warsaw; but the Saxons substi­tuted an effigy, and the coronation was solemnised and the elector proclaimed king under the title of Augustus II. It was observed that the king fainted during the formalities, as if his heart failed him at thought of the charge he was taking on himself.

This forced election was the first of the disgraceful series of events which laid the yoke on the necks of the Poles, and at last rendered them mere bonds­men. After this period Poland always received her kings under the compulsion of foreign arms. The czar and the king of Sweden even offered to support the present election; but Augustus found that he and his Saxons were sufficiently strong to fight their own battles.

The pacta conventa required Augustus to dismiss his own troops; but he was too prudent to trust himself to subjects who were not yet reconciled to his “usurpation,” and looked about for a pretext to retain them. This was readily found; he employed them against the Turks, and the Poles were satisfied. But this war was ended by the Treaty of Karlowitz, in January, 1699, by which treaty the Poles regained Kamenets, but gave up their encroach­ment in Moldavia, etc., and the king was obliged to find them another occu­pation. This also too soon presented itself.

AUGUSTUS’ CAMPAIGN AGAINST SWEDEN

Sweden was now under the government of a minor, and as Poland had long looked with a lingering eye on Livonia, which had been ceded by the Treaty of Oliva, in John Casimir’s time, he thought it would be a favourable juncture to attempt its recovery; and the sendee of the Saxons in that undertaking would make the Poles forgive their intrusion. He attempted it entirely at his own risk, without the concurrence of the Poles, and in fact in direct opposition to some of their representations. The bishop who had crowned him told the king that his attack on Sweden was a gross violation of the rights of nations and of equity, which the Almighty would not fail to punish —a judgment, says the historian, which seems to be dictated by the spirit of divination.

His first attempt was not so successful as he had anticipated, and he engaged Peter the Great, czar of Russia, to assist him. Peter entered very willingly into the plan; he wished to found a port on the east of the Baltic; Ingermanland, the northeast part of Livonia, seemed just adapted for it, and he thought it would pay him very well for his share of the enterprise. The meeting took place on the 26th of February, 1701, at Birzen, a small town in the palatinate of Vilna in Lithuania.

But Charles, the young Swedish monarch, although only eighteen, was not to be made the tame victim of such flagrant injustice. He was apprised of their designs and chose to anticipate them. He had routed the Russians at Narva in the preceding year, and made even Moscow tremble. But justice fought for him, and his soldiers were animated by the example of their youthful hero. These were the troops whom the Russian savages called “terrible, insolent, enraged, dreadful, untamable destroyers.” He then marched against the Saxons in Livonia, and came up to them on the banks of the Dvina. The river was very wide at the spot and difficult to pass, but Charles was never to be daunted. He caused large boats to be prepared with high bulwarks to protect the men, and observing that the wind was in the enemy’s face, lit large fires of wet straw; and the smoke, spreading along the banks of the river, concealed his operations from the Saxons. He directed the passage himself, which was effected in a quarter of an hour, and he was much mortified at being only the fourth to land. He rallied his troops and routed the Saxons. He did not stop till he arrived at Birzen, the town where Augustus and the czar had planned the expedition. He felt, he owned, a satisfaction at entering Birzen as a conqueror, where the leagued monarchs had conspired his ruin some few months before.

The news of Charles’ approach was nearly as agreeable to most of the Poles as it was terrible to Augustus; they considered him as their champion against the tyrannical and intruding Saxons. The primate wrote to the Swedish king assuring him of this feeling; and Charles expressed himself as the friend of Poland, although the enemy of their sovereign. Augustus was aware of this, and dismissed the Saxon troops, to regain the favour of his subjects. This step had the desired effect for a time: the primate, traitor as he was to both parties at heart, pretended to rouse the king’s awakening popularity which he could not check; and the people were so gratified by the concession that most of the influential palatines swore to defend their sovereign to the death. This adherence to their falling monarch was daily increasing, when unfortunate dissensions in Lithuania once more severed the bond of union.

That province had been divided into two contending factions ever since the death of Sobieski; and party spirit had run so high that the contest became quite a civil war. The family of Sapieha, the great general of Lithuania, and that of Oginski, the great standard-bearer, were the leading interests. As long as the Saxons remained in Lithuania, Sapieha was protected from the violence of Oginski, who was backed by most of the nobility; but after their departure he and his adherents were left exposed, so that their only alternative was to make the Swedes their protectors. Under these circumstances Augustus could offer but little opposition to Charles, and a deputation was sent to the Swedish monarch, with proposals of peace. “I will make peace at Warsaw,” was the young but firm warrior’s answer; and at the same time he added that he came to make war on Augustus, the usurper, and his Saxons, and not against the Poles.

The Capitulation of Warsaw; the Dethronement of Augustus (1702 a.d.)

Augustus felt that all was lost, and that his kingdom had departed from him. But he yet fought up against fortune; he had privately recalled his Saxons, and then assembling all the troops he could, mustered nearly twenty-four thousand men. Augustus now found himself in that perplex­ing dilemma in which all kings who thrust themselves upon a people by force are always at some period deservedly placed. The Poles, at best only lukewarm in his cause, were converted into ardent enemies by this recall of the Saxons. While Augustus was engaged in marching from palatinate to palatinate to canvass his partisans, Charles pushed on unopposed to Warsaw, which capitulated on the first summons, on the 5th of May, 1702. Augustus, however, marshalled his troops oi the plain of Klissow, and waited for the arrival of the Swedes to fight for his crown. Even now his army doubled that of Charles, but the Poles, who composed the greater part of it, did not engage willingly. Augustus indeed fought bravely; but in vain did he rally his troops: three times they again recoiled. Fortune still frowned on the Polish monarch, and be. fled towards Cracow.

An accident favoured his escape, and prolonged the struggle: Charles had a fall from his horse as he was pursuing him, and was detained in bed six weeks on his march. Augustus made good use of this respite, reassembled his troops, and prepared for another battle; but discontent and rebellion thinned his ranks: the Poles dreaded further opposition to the formidable invader, and began to fall into his will, in consenting to raise to the throne James Sobieski, the eldest son of their late monarch. Against sue numerous enemies no resistance could be offered; protraction of the war was useless, for difficulties only stimulated the Swedish hero. ‘‘Should I have to stay here fifty years,” said he, “I will not go till I have dethroned the king of Poland.” Augustus therefore fled to Saxony, taking, however, the precaution to secure the persons of James Sobieski and his brother Constantine.

The throne being thus vacated, it remained for Charles to fill it; but he was for some time undetermined who should be the chosen person. His counsellors advised him to step into it himself, but fate, in the shape of mili­tary glory, diverted him from that design. He first fixed on Alexander, Sobieski’s third son. Alexander, however, wished only for the enlargement of his brothers and to revenge them, having none of the libidinem dominandi, and it was in vain that the king of Sweden and the nobles entreated him to change his mind; he was immovable. The neighbouring princes, says Voltaire, knew not whom to admire most, the king of Sweden, who at the age of twenty-two years gave away the crown of Poland, or the prince Alexander, who refused it.

But kingdoms do not long go begging, and all men are not so disinterested as Alexander Sobieski. When Charles told young Stanislaus Leszczynski, the Polish deputy, that the republic could not be delivered from its troubles without an election, “But whom can we elect,” said Stanislaus, “now James and Constantine Sobieski are captives?” The king looked with an eye of scrutiny at his interrogator, and thought to himself, “Thou art the man!” He, however, deferred that answer until he had further examined his young protégé.

Stanislaus was descended from an illustrious Polish family: his father was crown treasurer and palatine of Posnania, to which latter office his son succeeded. He added to innate talent the polish of education and commerce with society both at home and abroad. “Stanislaus Leszczynski,” said one of his contemporaries, “ the son of the grand treasurer of the crown, is regarded amongst us as the honour of our country. A happy facility of manners makes him win his way to all hearts.” He was courageous, and at the same time mild in his disposition, and had a very prepossessing appearance. In fact, Charles was so much struck with him that he said aloud he had never seen a man so fit to conciliate all parties. He was also sufficiently hardy and inured to service to please the rough king in that respect; and after the conference the Swedish monarch exclaimed, “There is a man who shall always be iny friend !” and Stanislaus was king of Poland.

But the formality of election was observed, although it was, in fact, noth­ing but a ratification of Charles’ choice. Many other candidates were also nominated, and though Stanislaus was the most popular among them, as well as the nominee of the lord of the ascendant, the primate Radziejowski objected to him, ostensibly on account of his youth. “What?” said Charles. “He is too young,” answered the primate. “He is not so young as myself,” replied the king, impatiently, and he sent the Swedish count Horn to Warsaw to enforce the election. Horn met, however, with some resistance from the independent Poles. “Are we assembled,” said one of the nobles, “to act in concert for the ruin of Poland, whose glory and safety depend wholly on the freedom of the people and the liberty of the constitution? Let our inde­pendence be our first care, then let us think of an election. Shall we call that revolution legitimate which springs from fear of being hewn down by the troops of armed foreigners, who surround us and insult the dignity of the republic with their presence?” Several nobles, roused by this appeal, entered their protests, which, according to law, would check the election, but this trifling opposition was disregarded, the Swedes shouting, “Long live Stanislaus Leszczynski, king of Poland!” and the election was registered. The constitution was certainly infringed by the Swedish influence, but Augustus was not a fit person to complain of unconstitutional acts.

Stanislaus was no sooner seated on the throne and enjoying the honey­moon of royalty at Warsaw, than the alarm-bell sounded, and Augustus, with an army of twenty thousand Saxons, was seen marching to regain his capital. The city was unfortified, and the new king was obliged to flee, with his family, to their protector, Charles. The work of dethronement was now to be all done over again. The Swedish monarch had not lost any of his activity; he overtook Augustus unexpectedly in Posnania, and a battle was fought at Punitz, on the borders of Silesia. The Saxon army consisted almost entirely of foot, whereas the enemy were all cavalry. The Saxons formed themselves into solid bodies, presenting on all sides a hedge of bayonets. The Swedish cavalry in vain attempted to break their ranks; the Saxons stood their ground till nightfall, although inferior in number, and made good their retreat. This was certainly no contemptible specimen of the military talents of Augustus, although a great portion of the credit is of course to be given to the skill of Schullemburg.

The Saxon army retreated, and the Swedes followed and overtook them again on the banks of the Oder. Charles now imagined they must fall into his hands, as they were unprovided with pontoons or boats to effect the passage, but in this he was mistaken. Schullemburg passed his whole army over during the night with a very trifling loss, and Charles himself was obliged to own that “today Schullemburg has the better of us.”

Notwithstanding all this display of courage and tactics, Augustus could not support his falling fortune, and again withdrew to Saxony. Charles, tired of having to fight his battles over again so often in Poland, resolved to put an end to the Saxons’ occasional excursions, by carrying the war into their own country. Augustus now began to tremble; the Swedish king could as easily appoint a new elector as a new king. To avoid these consequences he submitted to the conditions Charles imposed. These were, to resign all pretensions to the crown of Poland; to break off all treaties against Sweden, and to set at liberty the two Sobieskis.

Russian Intervention; the Flight of Stanislaus

In the meantime Peter the Great was not idle; he felt much aggrieved that Augustus had capitulated without his knowledge, but he forgave him on hearing how severely he was already punished by the hard conditions of the treaty. The Russians under the command of Menshikov overran Poland in the absence of Charles and Augustus, who were in Saxony, forming a rallying point for the adherents of the ex-king and plundering the opposite party. In fact Peter treated Poland more as a vanquished province than an allied state, ravaging, levying contributions, and carrying off all the valu­ables he could lay hands on. The news that Stanislaus and Charles were returning from Saxony soon put a check to this injustice and obliged him to retreat.

The fate of Stanislaus was so completely dependent on that of Charles that the history of the latter is also the history of the former. The Swedish hero, leaving his protege in Poland, pursued the czar, who had retired into Lithuania, although it was in the month of January, 1708. The result of this singular campaign forms one of Fame’s commonplaces:

—dread Pultowa’s day,

When fortune left the royal Swede,

at once stripped Charles of the title of Invincible, the hard earnings of nine years’ victories, drove him to seek an asylum in Turkey, and dragged Stanislaus from the Polish throne.

Augustus, on hearing this unexpected news, immediately returned to Poland and resumed the diadem in spite of his oath. The pope’s dispensation sanctioned the perjury; Polish inconsistency favoured the new revolution; and the victorious arms of Russia confirmed all. Stanislaus knew it was in vain to resist, and did not wish to shed blood in a useless struggle; he therefore retired to Swedish Pomerania. He defended that province against the united Russians, Saxons, Poles, and Swedes, and Augustus wished to put an end to the contest. Stanislaus agreed to abdicate, but Charles’ consent was required to satisfy the newly raised king. The Swede, “proud though in desolation,” merely answered to all the persuasions, “If my friend will not be king, I can soon make another.” Stanislaus determined to try what could be effected by a personal interview, and “ risking more,” says Voltaire, “ to abdicate a throne than he had done to ascend it,” undertook to travel in disguise through the midst of his enemies to Charles’ retreat in Turkey. He stole one evening from the Swedish army which he commanded in Pomerania, and traversing the enemy’s lines with a passport under the name of Haran, after many dangers reached Jassy, the capital of Moldavia. He here styled himself a major in Charles’ service, not knowing that the king was at that time far from a good understanding with the Porte. On this hint the suspicions of the Turkish officer were awakened, who, being acquainted with the ex-king’s person by description, saw through the disguise and arrested him.

“Tell him,” exclaimed the inflexible Swede when he heard of his appre­hension, “never to make peace with Augustus; assure him fortune will soon change.” This prediction seemed about to be verified, when the Turks, stimulated by the intrigues of the Swedish monarch, took up arms against the Russians, and investing Peter on the banks of the Pruth obliged him to make that famous capitulation in 1711. By this he was bound to withdraw all his troops from Poland, and never interfere in the affairs of that government; besides which, Charles was to be insured an unmolested return to his own kingdom.

Peter was, however, no sooner out of danger than he forgot his oath, and instead of withdrawing his troops from Poland reinforced them. In 1712 great complaints were made about this encroachment, and the czar pretended to countermand them, but still kept them on the confines of Lithuania. In 1714 Charles returned to Sweden, and at the same time Stanislaus, resigning all pretensions to Poland, retired to the little duchy of Zweibrucken in Germany, which was presented to him by the king of Sweden, who possessed it by inheritance. He remained there till he was deprived of it by Charles’ death, four years later.

The return of the Swedish monarch was a pretext for retaining the Saxon troops in Poland. But even this excuse did not satisfy the justly discontented Poles; they avenged the insults and ravages of these intruders by the lives of many hundreds of them. This was the declaration of open war between the king’s troops and the confederated nobles. Augustus in vain opposed his infuriated subjects, and after his army had been almost annihilated called upon the czar for assistance. This induced the confederates to negotiate, and under the terror of a Russian army peace was concluded between the monarch and his people in 1717.

It was then agreed that the Saxons should leave the kingdom, and this engagement was accordingly kept. At the same time the Polish army was decreased to eighteen thousand men, under the pretence of curbing the influence of the two grand generals. This was a most pernicious step to the independence of Poland, as it extended its defence almost entirely to the pospolite, who could never compete with the large standing armies which were now kept up by its neighbours. “Imprudent nation!” exclaims Rulhière, “which allowed itself to be disarmed at the very moment when new dangers were about to threaten it; which almost solely intrusted its defence to the convocations of the pospolite, at a time when all the other nations of Europe had discovered the inutility and abandoned the use of that mode of protection! ”

In the meantime Peter had obtained all the Livonian territory he aimed at, and was willing to embrace the schemes of the Swedish minister to enter into a treaty with Charles, to re-establish Stanislaus, make a descent on England, and in fact become the arbiter of Europe. The conferences were carried on with the greatest secrecy, but sufficient transpired to make Augustus tremble. His minister, Fleming (with or without his master’s concurrence), employed some French miscreants to carry off Stanislaus and bring him prisoner to Dresden. This he thought would be a bar to the inimical designs of the allies. The villains were discovered and taken before the ex-king as assassins, expecting summary punishment; but the beneficent and philosophic Stanislaus reproved them mildly. “ What injury have I done you, my friends?” said he. “And if none, why should you attempt my life? Were I to retaliate I should take away yours, but I forgive you; live and become better.” This was acting up to his own aphorism, “We are amply avenged by having the power to pardon,” and gives him a stronger claim to the title of beneficent philosopher than- all his writings, were they a hundred times, more voluminous.

The king of Poland publicly disclaimed all knowledge of the plot, but we must leave his protestation to plead for itself. At that time it had the effect of shifting the onus of censure to Fleming’s shoulders, and at any rate the minister was not unjustly scandalised. The death of Charles, in 1718, broke the alliance, and averted the danger which threatened Augustus. Such was the termination of the attack on Livonia; Peter was the only gainer, while the king of Poland had been dethroned, plundered of his treasures in Saxony, and had recovered his crown only by breaking his oath, sacrificing his power, and becoming almost a mere Russian viceroy.

Poland now enjoyed for some years a state of comparative peace, but it seemed likely to be disturbed in 172G by disputes about Courland. The duchy had been held as a fief of the Poles ever since 1561, under the express conditions that when the line of succession was extinct it should revert to Poland. The diet held in this year (1726), taking into consideration the old age of the childish duke—who in fact no longer held the reins of government, having been deprived of them by Anne, who was the niece of Peter the Great and had married the late duke—determined to annex it to the kingdom, and accordingly sent commissioners to divide it into palatinates. But this the Courlanders stoutly resisted, and elected Count Maurice, of Saxony (Marshal Saxe), natural son of Augustus, their duke—an election that pleased neither the Poles nor the Russians, and was set aside, the duchy remaining under the V power of Russia till the death of Augustus.

The same diet held a debate on another singular event, which at the time threatened to be of some importance. Nearly two years before this time the Jesuits were making a public procession with the host in the streets of Thorn, and some young scholar of the order insisted that the children who were present should kneel. This they refused to do, being Lutherans, as were most of the inhabitants of the city, and a scuffle ensued. The offending Jesuit was taken into custody, and his order, highly incensed, imperatively demanded his release, which being refused they attacked the citizens, and some blood was shed on both sides. The townspeople, enraged at this breach of their privileges, broke open the Jesuits’ college, plundered it, profaned all the objects of worship, and among other impieties mistreated an image of the Virgin.

The Catholics of Poland, fired at the profanation, immediately came to the diet almost infuriated with fanatic zeal. A commission was appointed, with absolute power to examine into the business and punish the impiety. It was in vain the Lutherans pleaded their grievances; the magistrates were capitally condemned for not exerting their authority, seven other citizens suffered the same fate, and numbers were banished or imprisoned. Three persons, accused of throwing the Virgin’s image into the fire, lost their right arms, and the whole city was deprived of the freedom of public worship. The persecuted dissidents carried their complaints before all the Protestant princes; and Prussia, Great Britain, and Sweden interested themselves in their behalf. Augustus began to fear the intervention of force; but the threat was not executed, and the poor Lutherans were left to digest their troubles with prayer and patience.

THE CLOSE OF AUGUSTUS’ REIGN

The king spent the rest of his reign in attempting to make the crown hereditary, and to stretch its prerogatives. The 31st of January, 1733, ended his eventful life, and gave the Poles another opportunity to save their falling country. The biographer of Augustus makes his funeral oration a series of antitheses. He was like all men in whose minds no one passion has established absolute monarchy over the rest: he rang the changes of pleasure and repentance, sense and folly, inaction and exertion. He kept a sumptuous court; and if the first part of his reign undermined the constitution of Poland, the latter part corrupted its morals. But notwithstanding his luxuries and extravagance, he amassed considerable wealth. It is said that he had collected at Dresden porcelain to the value of twenty-four millions. So fond was he of trumpery of this kind that he gave Frederick William, of Prussia, one of his most dangerous neighbours, his finest regiment of dragoons in exchange for twelve vases. He left his son twelve millions in his treasury, and an army of thirty-three thousand good troops, to purchase or seize the crown of Poland.

The reign of Augustus hastened the decline of the Polish nation by many conspiring causes, nor was it more favourable to the advance of learning; only luxury and sumptuousness were encouraged by this monarch’s example. Many learned men, indeed, might be mentioned, but none who had any influence on the public mind. The slothful voluptuousness of the latter part of this reign, which succeeded the anarchy of the commencement, completed the ruin it had begun; and Augustus has left behind him the character of one of the most splendid as well as most athletic sovereigns of Poland, to be balanced against the irretrievable injury he has done both to this kingdom and his electoral dominions. Many wonderful feats of strength are still related of Augustus, such as that he could lift a trumpeter in full armour in the palm of his hand. His immense cuirass and helmet, which are shown even to the present day in the Rustkammer, or armoury of Dresden, bear at least some partial testimony to the truth of these traditions.

THE ACCESSION OF FREDERICK AUGUSTUS II (1733-1763 A.D.)

After passing a severe law against the Lutherans, who were not only deprived of their civil rights but insultingly forbidden to leave their odious country, the diet of convocation resolved that a Piast only should be elected. This exclusion of foreign candidates was intended to open the way for the second elevation of Stanislaus, now father-in-law of Louis XV, who in his peaceful court of Lorraine was too philosophic to be tempted by ambition. Overcome, however, by the French court, and by the pressing entreaties of his former subjects, he reluctantly proceeded to Warsaw, to support by his presence the efforts of his friends. He was received with acclamation, and in the diet of election sixty thousand voices declared him king of Poland.

But the republic had ceased to control her own destinies; her independence had vanished, and she was no longer allowed either to choose her own rulers or to take any other important step without the concurrence of her neighbours. Both Austria and Muscovy had resolved to resist the pretensions of Stanislaus, and to enforce the election of a rival candidate, Frederick Augustus, elector of Saxony, son of the late king.

An army of Muscovites arrived in the neighbourhood of Warsaw; and at the village of Kamenets, in a wretched inn in the depths of a forest, the party of nobles opposed to the French interests proclaimed Frederick Augustus king of Poland. On the 9th of November the elector left Saxony. At Tarnowitz, on the Silesian frontier, he swore to the pacta conventa, and entered triumphant into Cracow, where lie and his queen were solemnly crowned. The Muscovite troops pursued the fugitive Stanislaus to Dantzic, where that prince hoped to make a stand until the arrival of the promised succours from France. Though aid arrived from that country, it was too slender to avail him. The bravery of the inhabitants, however, enabled him to withstand a vigorous siege of five months: when the city was compelled to capitulate, he stole from the place, and in disguise reached the Prussian territories after many narrow escapes.     .      . .

After receiving the oaths of the Dantzickers and assisting at the diet of pacification—the only diet which, during his reign, was not dissolved by the veto—Frederick Augustus appeared to think he had done enough for his new subjects, and abandoned himself entirely to his favourite occupations of smoking or hunting. To business of every description he had a mortal aversion: the government of his two states he abandoned to his minister, Count Briihl. The minister, indeed, strove to resemble him in idle pomp and dissipation, and by that means obtained unbounded ascendency over him; an ascendency, however, which was rather felt than seen, and which he who exercised it had art enough to conceal. The king had not the capacity, or would not be at the pains, to learn the Polish language—another source of discontent to the people. But the forests of Saxony were more favourable to the royal sports than those of Poland; Saxony, therefore, had more of the royal presences

From whatever point of view we may consider the conditions of Poland during the middle of the eighteenth century, from the political and social or from the general mental and moral point of view, we always gain the impres­sion of an irremediable decay, the germs of which had certainly already existed for a considerable time in the life of the nation and its realm, but which had been completely developed only during the reign of the two Augustuses from the Saxonian family (1697-1763).

After the unhappy times of John Casimir, when the republic was already quite near the danger of being dissolved, it had again under the leadership of John Sobieski shown itself to the world as a power. But even Sobieski’s most glorious undertaking, the deliverance of Vienna from the Turks, had remained fruitless. It was like the last brilliant ray of the setting sun; and when this king was lowered into his grave, there were buried with him, if not actually Poland’s liberty, of which he used so often and so proudly to boast, at least the national independence and power.

The very beginning of the Saxonian period was characteristic and full of important consequences for the position of Poland in her affairs both at home and abroad. For, on the whole, Frederick Augustus had only obtained his accession to the throne—thanks to his not having spared any money for bribery—to his at once having entered the country with some thousands of gallant troops, and above all to the support of Austria, Russia, and Rome. And as the beginning, so was the continuation. The same powers that had placed him on the throne had also to try to keep him there. Without the victories of Peter the Great over Charles XII he would hardly have returned to Poland as the ruler, after his abdication in favour of Stanislaus Leszczynski. When he died, the decision in favour of his son was due to Austria and Russia, and especially to the arms of the latter. The nation itself had declared itself by an overwhelming majority in favour of Stanislaus Leszczynski, but abandoned him after a short and powerless resistance because they had, in the first place, no army capable of resisting the well-exercised and disciplined Russian and Saxonian troops, and because, on the other hand, the general summons of the nobility (Pospolite ruszenil) did not meet with sufficient sympathy and encouragement. Already during the election of the first Saxonian one heard the words: “ They could have enough kings, without shedding their blood for one of them.”

The consequence was that as the influence of Russia in Poland increased, the independence of the republic waned. All circumstances, the state of the general European politics as well as the inner conditions of Poland, were favourable for Russia. Austria, united with Russia for the next decade, had no reason to oppose her in Warsaw; France could not do it at first, and could not even wish to do it afterwards, since Louis XV had joined the Austro-Russian alliance against Frederick II.

STATE OF POLAND UNDER AUGUSTUS III

Augustus III, without possessing his father’s great qualities, displayed the same generosity. He also, as his father did, forestalled his most stubborn enemies by conferring benefits upon them. In appearance he walked in the same footsteps; he let remain around the throne all the manifestations of civilisation that his father had collected there, but there was nothing inherent in his taste for luxury. It was only through a habit acquired by education that he ruined himself by splendour, without caring for it, by paintings, without knowing anything about them. In the pomp of his court there was no element of gallantry, and the king, of great personal beauty, kept an inviolable fidelity to the queen, his wife, the ugliest princess of her time. But this beauty, so striking in the prince’s features at first glance, vanished at the slightest closer inspection; then there appeared an indescribable quality of coarseness; his silent and sad countenance was without character unless it was somewhat stamped with pride. His mind was so lazy and limited that he had never been able to learn the language of his country. His sole passion was for the hunt; and the queen, who never left his side, followed him at it from early dawn in open chair, braving with him all the inclemencies of the seasons. In this sole and constant occupation he pretended to govern alone the two states of Saxony and Poland, but as a matter of fact all the cares of government were abandoned to a favourite, who was clever enough to make this monarch always believe that he was exercising it himself.

Count Brühl, an indefatigable huntsman because this was a sure means of pleasing his master, an agreeable companion, skilful at all games and sports, a man who had spent his entire life at court and become minister, was never anything else but a courtier. It was not the king’s choice that raised Brühl to this high position, but rather his favour, which, growing from day to day without being based on any foundation of merit, let the conduct of affairs fall little by little entirely into the hands of the minister. Never was more servile respect shown a prince than that which Briihl rendered his master with perpetual assiduity, always at his side in the hunting forest, or passing entire mornings in his presence without saying a word, while the do-nothing prince walked up and down smoking and let his eyes fall on his minister without seeing him. “Brühl, have I any money?” “Yes, sire.” It was always the same response. But in order to satisfy the caprices of the prince, which each day were something different, Brühl loaded the state bank of Saxony with more notes than it had funds, and in Poland he auctioned off all the offices of the republic. He brought to the great affairs of general politics in Europe that spirit of underhand intrigue and double dealing that is so often acquired at court; cringing before his master, engaging in society by his grace and gentleness, weak and perfidious in affairs, and always the most superb of men. The excesses of luxury of all kinds that he indulged in would seem exaggerated in a novel, but the truth passes all description. Lucullus, the wonder of the Romans after they had despoiled Greece and Asia, Lucullus, who loaned one day to the managers of some great spectacle five thousand of his coats, would have seemed nearly naked and bare to the Saxon minister. He pretended that this mad- magnificence was not his own personal taste, but only seemed to flatter one of his master’s foibles. In fact Augustus, attached by indolence to a simple and secluded life, took pride in being served by so fastidious a minister. “Were it not for my profession,” said Brühl, “he would let me want for the most necessary things.” And this vainest, most superb of men, was nothing in the midst of all the pomp but the vilest of flatterers. For a long time it was never suspected that a secret piety mingled with all a courtier’s passions in the minister’s soul, but one day two strangers indiscreetly- made their way into his inner apartments, and were astonished to see him on his knees, his face to the floor, before a table lighted like a tomb during funeral ceremonies. Brühl got up in great haste and said to the intruders, “ After giving my entire day to my temporal master, I must give a few moments to eternity.”

Count Brühl, in the first place minister of Saxony, was nobody in Poland, where, foreigners were excluded from all offices; but as soon as by his influence over the king’s mind he had begun to dispose alone of all favours, he boldly passed himself off as a Pole and found means in a lawsuit purposely raked up to have the court recognise a false genealogy. This judgment became a means for fortune to shower riches and dignities upon him.

The master and favourite had no other political system than one of entire dependence upon Russia. They skilfully seized every occasion to gain the goodwill of that court. Did the emperor smile upon a young man, they were carefully informed of the fact. The riband of Poland had become in some manner the first degree of Russian honours, and the first sign of budding influence at Petersburg. From Warsaw all the news of Russia was faithfully sent to other courts, and for the empire it was like the capital of a distant province. A few Poles grieved at this degradation, but as to make one’s own and one’s family’s fortune had become the universal occupation in this reign, the majority sought favour at its source. They travelled to the court of Russia; the vile intrigues of the Russian courtiers were preserved at Warsaw in anecdotes for the instruction of the young nobles, and as a science useful to the ambitious. Brühl applauded the policy; he believed himself secure by the skill of his negotiations in whatever influence the czarina possessed. The high chancellor Bestuzhev made use of him as a subordinate spy in the general affairs of Europe, and profited by the Saxon minister’s deference to sell to him the Starosties and Polish offices in opposition to him, and many people have thought that the Russian prime minister had no other design upon Poland than to sustain his credit by these sales.

The king preferred to reside in Dresden rather than in Warsaw, because the forests of his electorate were better adapted for hunting than those of his kingdom, and because, hating all ceremony, he was not obliged to hold court at Dresden, as Polish traditions compelled him to do at Warsaw. It was in Saxony that he maintained troops of French dancers and Italian singers at great expense, and ruined himself in wild prodigality. And as the Polish ministry displayed no energy except in the king’s presence, and the diet and council of senators could not meet without the king’s convocation, his long absences left the republic in complete inaction. The law which obliged the convocation of a diet every two years brought him back at the eve of this period; and he was always anxious that these assemblies should have a happy issue, because he regarded their success as a proof of the confidence the Poles had given him. But after several stormy sessions, there was always found some member whose opposition compelled the diet to be dis­solved, and the king, accustomed to this misfortune, seemed easily consoled when the season was favourable for a return to Saxony.

During the thirty years of this reign the nation assembled always in vain, and the most frivolous pretexts were sufficient for these ruptures. The king of Prussia relates how one day Augustus was trying to dissolve the diet, and his partisans, few in number, not being able to find some apparent motive under which to cover all their evil intentions, the king looked through the Polish laws, and there discovered an ancient regulation forbidding any matters to be considered by artificial light. He wrote to his supporters to get them to prolong some session into the night and have candles brought in. He was obeyed. The candles arrived; great uproar in the assemblage. Some cried that the law was being violated; others that the old order of the diet is changed, that the arbitrary power holds all the means of providing for itself, while in the tumult a nuncio protested against the validity of a diet where the laws were openly broken. Let us imagine the simplest heritage left for some years without master and government; everything would fall to ruins: and one of the greatest kingdoms of Europe remained thirty years without any sort of administration. There existed no legitimate power to look after the collection of taxes and the condition of the troops. The high treasurers enriched themselves from the public funds while the state was poor and in debt. The great generals were powerful, but the republic was defence­less. The great marshals were dreaded, but the police were not maintained, and the chancellors were reproached with signing illegal acts. All large affairs were in confusion. No ministers were sent to foreign powers.

There was one irregularity especially whose fatal results touched every­body’s pockets: the mints had been closed in 1685, to await the first session of the estates in order that they might during that interval consult with the great Prussian cities concerning some projected regulation of coinage. But the dissolution of the diets always prevented these regulations from being considered, and the mints still remained unopened. Foreign money, becoming more necessary from day to day, had only an arbitrary circulation, and there were no coins of small value for domestic trade. The republic was unable to remedy the difficulty. The king felt himself sufficiently authorised by the pressing necessity to have Polish coins struck off in Saxony, and in his eagerness to gain by the operation he set neighbouring sovereigns the dangerous example of deteriorating them.

In the midst of a long peace the nation plunged into effeminacy, made a duty of imitating the luxury of the court, and this foolish luxury disguised the true state of the kingdom under an apparent prosperity. The people, that is to say the slaves, became each day more wretched because the land­owners were compelled to increase their revenues by increase of work, which they put upon the unfortunate beings. The majority of the noblemen, ruined by a vain display of wealth, no longer had either arms or horses, and were not, as in former times, always ready to march to the defence of their country. Henceforth there were no more inspections of the nobility, and whoever would have proposed to re-establish them would have needlessly made himself sus­pected at court. Thus all the abuses of the strange government were felt at once.

THE PONIATOWSKI VERSUS THE CZARTORYSKI

For ten years two great parties, represented at their head by the greatest families of the land, had quarrelled with one another in Poland—the Poniatowski and the Czartoryski. For a long time the latter had maintained secret relations with the royal house, and enjoyed a fulness of royal favour. With a sufficient insight in regard to the defects of the organism of the state, the leader of this house indeed offered his hand as a strength to the royal power. By the formation of a confederation, with the king at the head, the way would be made smooth for laying the foundation of healthier conditions. Already a hundred and thirty senators had joined together, when, by the advent of the count De Broglie, the whole undertaking gave way (1752). The influence and importance of this family were not undervalued in Vienna, and Augustus III gave his support to secure the same to the well-meant council. Later on, personal differences with the all-powerful minister Brühl turned the Czartoryski into the camp of the opposition. The horn of plenty of royal favour now fell into the lap of the Poniatowski.

Stanislaus II, Augustus Poniatowski (1739-1798)

During the last years of the reign of Augustus III, the conviction of the sad and almost inconsolable state of the republic was deeply rooted in wide circles, and the necessity was recognised for a great reform. Only about the means the views differed. The Poniatowski and their adherents wished a regeneration of the nation from within, and with that still the preservation of freedom, of which the republic was so proud. It is not yet perceptible in what manner this so-named patriotic party thought to attain this great aim; and there would indeed be great difficulty in proving and in significantly showing that the work of reform had made itself clear.

Since the rupture between the Czartoryski and the royal house the leader directed his attention to Russia, with whose help he hoped to abrogate wrongs, and also in the future to be enabled, according to his thought, to direct the choice of a king.

Nothing could more clearly prove the absolute dependence of the republic on the northern empire than the fact that though Frederick Augustus, in virtue of his rights over Courland, permitted his third son, Charles, whom the states of that duchy had ventured to elect for their sovereign, to accept the precarious dignity, his timidity was absolutely ludicrous; nor would he grant the permission until assured that the choice would be agreeable to the empress Elizabeth. But Peter III, the successor of that princess, refused to acknowledge Duke Charles, who, in fear of the consequences, precipitately fled from Courland to await the course of events. In his contempt for the republic, the new czar would not even condescend to acquaint Frederick Augustus with his accession. So completely did he consider Poland within his grasp, and in reality a province of his empire—however his policy might induce him to permit a little longer the show of national independence—that, in a treaty with the Prussian monarch, he insisted on three great objects: (1) the election of a Piast, and consequently a creature of his own, after the death of Augustus; (2) the protection of the dissidents against the declared will of the diet; and (3) the possession of Courland as a fief of the imperial crown.

St. Petersburg, in short, was the great focus where the rays of Polish intrigue were concentrated, and where the more ambitious natives resorted to obtain, by flattering the imperial confidants, the dignities of the republic. Every intimation, however slight, from the northern metropolis was an im­perious obligation on the feeble king and his servile minister; and not on them V alone, but on the great body of the nobles, who had lost all sense of the national dishonour, and who transferred their homage from Warsaw to St. Petersburg without shame or remorse. Among these unprincipled Poles, none was more conspicuous than Count Stanislaus Poniatowski, who, in the reign of Elizabeth, formed a criminal intrigue with the grand duchess Catherine; and who, by favour of the connection, was taught to regard the Polish crown as his own. The father of this adventurer had been the confidant of Charles XII in Turkey, and had been singularly favoured by that monarch. “Charles,” wrote the archduchess to the old count, “knew how to distinguish your merit; I also can distinguish that of your son, whom I may one day raise, perhaps, above even Charles himself.” The confidants of the two lovers had little doubt that, when the grand duchess was seated on the imperial throne, she would contrive to set aside her husband, and bestow both her hand and sceptre on one whom she had resolved to place over the republic. Finally, the Muscovite armies traversed the kingdom, whether to oppose the Germans or the Turks, or to support the plots of their avowed adherents, with perfect impunity, and in contempt of the humble supplications of court and diet.

It must not, indeed, be concealed that the republic had a few true sons, who endeavoured to rouse the nation to a sense of its humiliation and to arm it against the interference of its neighbours. At the head of these was Branicki, grand general of the crown, who belonged to no faction and who aimed only at the redemption of his country. But his efforts could avail little against those of two rival factions, whose dissensions were espoused by the great body of Polish nobles. The court, aided by the Radziwills and the Potockis, laboured to preserve the ancient privileges of the republic—in other words, the abuses which had brought that republic to its present deplorable state; and the Czartoryskis to establish an hereditary monarchy, the trunk of which would be not Frederick Augustus but their kinsman the young count Poniatowski. The cause of the latter was naturally more acceptable at the court of St. Petersburg, especially after the elevation of Catherine; and the Muscovite generals were ordered to protect it, in opposition to the king, and, if need were, to the whole nation.

Catherine II was no less decisive with respect to Courland. She ordered fifteen thousand of her troops to take possession of the duchy in favour of Biron, who had been exiled by Peter and recalled by her. At a meeting of the senate, indeed, over which the feeble king presided, some members had the boldness to dispute the rights of Biron, and to insist on the restoration of Charles; and, what is still stranger, they prevailed on a majority to adopt the same sentiments. They even resolved to cite the Muscovite governor before the tribunal of their king. But this was no more than the empty menace of cowards, who hoped to obtain by blustering what they dared not attempt by open force. A thundering declaration of the czarina and the movement of a few Muscovite troops towards the frontiers so appalled them that they sought refuge in the obscurity of their sylvan abodes; and the king, with his minister Brühl, precipitately abandoned Poland, never to return. With no less speed did Duke Charles, who had stood a six months’ siege by the Muscovite troops, follow that exemplary pair to Dresden. It is true, indeed, that the empress arrested the march of her troops in Lithuania; that she found cause to fear the determined opposition of the lesser nobles; and that she resolved to wait for the king’s death before she proceeded to declare the throne vacant and secure the elevation of her former lover: but her purpose was immutable; and if her moderation or policy induced her to delay its execution, she knew her power too well to distrust its eventual accomplish­ment. However, “to make assurance doubly sure,” she sought the alliance of the Prussian king, with whom she publicly arranged a portion of the policy that was afterwards adopted in regard to this doomed nation.

Nothing could be more mortifying to the Czartoryskis than this stroke of policy on the part of the czarina. They had long planned the deposition of Frederick Augustus, and the forcible elevation of their kinsman, and their vexation knew no bounds at the delay thus opposed to their ambitious impatience. The young count, in particular, who had traitorously boasted that the last hour of the king was come, that Poland was about to enter on new destinies, behaved like a madman on the occasion, but he became more tractable on learning the indisposition of Frederick Augustus.’ The death of that prince restored him to perfect equanimity.

Though under Frederick Augustus Poland entered on no foreign war, his reign was the most disastrous in her annals. While the Muscovite and Prus­sian armies traversed her plains at pleasure, and extorted whatever they pleased; while one faction openly opposed another, not merely in the diet but on the field; while every national assembly was immediately dissolved by the veto; the laws could not be expected to exercise much authority. They were, in fact, utterly disregarded; the tribunals were derided, or forcibly overturned, and brute force prevailed on every side. The miserable peasants vainly besought the protection of their lords, who were either powerless, or indifferent to their complaints; while thousands expired of hunger, a far greater number sought to. relieve their necessities by open depredations. Bands of robbers, less formidable only than the kindred masses congregated under the name of soldiers, infested the country in every direction. Famine aided the devastations of both; the population, no less than the wealth of the kingdom, decreased with frightful rapidity.

THE INTERREGNUM

Though Catherine had long determined on the election of her former lover, she was at first prudent enough to employ address in preference to open force. She had no wish, by her example, to procure the armed interference of Austria—a power which could not regard without alarm the growing preponderance of her empire; and the great Frederick might possibly be no less disposed to preserve Poland independent, as a barrier against her progressive encroach­ments westward. Her ambassador at Warsaw had orders to repeat her reso­lution to defend the integrity of the republic; but he was at the same time instructed to say that a Piast only would be agreeable to his sovereign. Who that Piast was, there was no difficulty in surmising; but the count, from his unprincipled manoeuvres during the late reign, and still more, perhaps, from the comparative baseness of his extraction, was odious to the whole nation. Here was another obstacle, which required alike great art and unflinching firmness to remove. Entreaties were first to be tried, then remonstrances, next menaces, but actual force only when other means should fail.

In the dietines assembled in each palatinate, to choose the members for the diet of convocation, and to draw up such laws, regulations, and improve­ments as it was intended to propose in the general diet, the necessity of a radical change in the constitution was very generally expressed. But if the members agreed in this self-evident proposition, they differed widely in every other matter. While one party inclined to the establishment of a hereditary monarchy and the abolition of the veto, another contended for the formation of a government purely aristocratical; a third, with equal zeal insisted that the constitution should only be slightly modified to meet the wants of a new and improved society. All dispute, however, was soon cut short by the united declaration of the Prussian and Muscovite ambassadors, to the effect that their sovereigns would not allow any change at all in the existing system. The Poles now felt that they were slaves.

To a Piast—in other words, a mean dependent on the czarina—Austria opposed the young elector of Saxony, son of the late king. A great number of nobles, on the promise that the freedom of election should be guaranteed by the forces of the empire, and the Muscovites taught to respect the republic, espoused the interests of this candidate; and probably his death was the only event which averted from the country the scourge of war. It was an event so favourable to the views of Muscovy that her triumph was secure. So convinced of this was the sagacious Frederick that he hastened to confirm Catherine in her design, which he offered to support with all his power; and he thereby acquired all the advantages he expected—a confirmation of the favourable treaty he had before made with Peter III Poniatowski received the riband of the black eagle, which he regarded as an earnest of his approaching elevation.

As the period appointed for opening the diet of convocation drew near, the two allied powers took measures to secure their common object. Forty thousand Prussians were stationed on the Silesian frontier, and ten thousand Muscovites quickly occupied the positions round Warsaw. Their creatures, the Czartoryskis, were active in distributing money with amazing prodigality, and in promising places, pensions, and benefices to all who promoted the success of their kinsman. But on some neither fear nor seduction had any influence: twenty-two senators and forty-five deputies, at the head of whom were the grand hetman and Mokronowski, a Pole zealous for his country’s cause, signed a declaration to the effect that the diet of convocation could not be held so long as foreign troops were present.

On the 7th of May, however, it was opened, but under circumstances deeply humiliating to the nation. The Muscovite troops were posted in the squares, and at the ends of the streets leading to the place of deliberation; while the armed adherents of the Czartoryskis, some thousands in number, had the audacity to occupy not only the avenues to the house, but the halls of the senators and the deputies. Of the fifty senators then in Warsaw, only eight proceeded to the diet, which was to be opened by the aged Count Malachowski, marshal on the occasion. Instead of raising his staff—the signal for the com­mencement of proceedings—this intrepid man resolutely held it downwards, while his no less courageous companion, Mokronowski, conjured him, in the name of the members who had signed the declaration, not to elevate it as long as the Muscovites controlled the free exercise of deliberation. As the speaker concluded by his veto, a multitude of soldiers, with drawn sabres, rushed towards him. For a moment the tumult was hushed, when the marshal of the diet declared his intention of departing with the symbol of his office. Immediately a hundred armed creatures of the Czartoryskis exclaimed, in a menacing tone, “Raise your staff!” “No,” cried Mokronowski, in one still louder; “do no such thing !” Again the soldiers endeavoured to pierce through the crowd of deputies, to lay their victim low, while several voices exclaimed, “Mokronowski, retract your veto; we are no longer masters; you are rushing on certain death !”Be it so !” replied he, as he folded his arms in expectation of the catastrophe; “Twill die free!”

The elevation of his purpose was read in the energy of his look, and could not but strike a deep awe into the assailants, who began to hesitate in their design; especially when they reflected that their bloody deed must bring inevitable disgrace on their cause, and perhaps rouse all Europe against them. As the marshal refused to erect his staff, he was called on to resign it into other hands. “Never!” replied this noble octogenarian: “you may cut off my hand, or you may take my life; but as I am a marshal elected by a free people, so by a free people only can I be deposed. I wish to leave the place !” He was surrounded on every side by ferocious soldiers and deputies resolved to prevent his egress. Seeing him thus violently detained, Mokronowski exclaimed, “Gentlemen, if a victim is wanted, behold me; but respect age and virtue!” At the same moment, the younger of these heroic patriots forcibly opened a way for the marshal, whom he succeeded in conducting to the gate. The undaunted deportment of both seemed to have made its due impression on the members, who opposed no further obstacle to their departure. As they passed through the streets, however, they were exposed to new dangers: and there is little doubt that Mokronowski would have been sacrificed, had not a man, whose name history conceals, closely followed his heels, exclaiming at every step, “ Make way for General Gadomski!”

But this admirable display of firmness led to no corresponding result. Though two hundred members of the diet had resolved to have no share in this lawless force, and left Warsaw for their respective habitations, those who remained—the creatures of Muscovy and the Czartoryskis, scarcely eighty in number—were but the more encouraged to betray the liberties of their country. Another marshal was speedily elected, and measures passed in this illegal assembly alike injurious to freedom and tranquillity. The dissidents were deprived of the few remaining rights left them by former persecutors; the Prussians were also forbidden to assemble at the diets, otherwise than by deputies—and these to be few in number. No folly, surely, ever equalled that of men who, in such a desperate situation, laboured to alienate an impor­tant portion of the people from the government, at a time when the most perfect harmony and the closest union were required to avert the threatened destruction of the republic. In some other things they exhibited a little common sense. They abolished the veto, making the success of the measures proposed depend on the majority, not on the unanimity, of suffrages; and they recognised in the elector of Brandenburg the long disputed title of the king of Prussia. Finally, the diet of election opened August 27th, and on the 7th of the following month Stanislaus Augustus Poniatowski was declared king of Poland.

STANISLAUS AUGUSTUS

The first acts of Stanislaus were almost sufficient to efface the shame of his elevation. Not only were the abolition of the veto confirmed and the arbitrary powers of the grand marshals and hetmans greatly restrained, but enlightened regulations were introduced into the commerce of the country and the finances of the state; the arts and sciences were encouraged, especially such as related to war. The dissidents, however, could not obtain the rights which they claimed, notwithstanding the representations of the Muscovite ambassador, whose sovereign was ever on the alert to protect the discontented and to urge their confederations. But the czarina was in no disposi­tion to see her imperial will thwarted; her attachment to the king had long been weakened by new favourites, and she could not behold, without anxiety, the changes introduced into the constitution of the Poles—changes which, she was sagacious enough to foresee, must, if permitted to take effect, entirely frustrate her views on the republic. Iler ambassador declared to the diet that these innovations must be abandoned and the ancient usages restored.

The assembly was compelled to give way, especially as numerous confed­erations were formed by the small nobles, no doubt in the pay of Catherine, for the same object. The conviction felt by the humblest member of the equestrian order that he by his single protest could arrest the whole machine of government was a privilege too gratifying to self-love to be abandoned without reluctance. Hence Muscovy had little difficulty in nullifying measures which, however advantageous and even necessary to the republic, were less prized by the majority of the nobles than their own monstrous immunities.

It must not, however, be supposed that this dictatorial interference of Muscovy was admitted without opposition. In the diet of 1767-1768 it was courageously denounced by several senators, especially by two bishops and two temporal barons; but the fate of these men was intended to deter all others from following the example: they were arrested by night, and conveyed into the heart of Muscovy. Liberty of discussion had long been forbidden by the haughty foreigners; but, as mere menaces had produced little effect, to the astonishment of all Europe, unblushing violence, and that too of the most odious description, was hereafter to be employed. It was now evident that nothing less than the entire subjugation of Poland, than its reduction to a province of the empire, was resolved. The forcible removal of these heroic champions of independence was to secure the triumph of the ancient anarchy.

THE FIRST PARTITION OF THE REPUBLIC (1772 A.D.)

But however appalling the fate of these men, it had not the effect designed by its framers: it roused the patriotic and the bold to a more determined and effectual opposition. A confederation of a few influential nobles was formed at Bar, a little town in Podolia, of which the avowed object was to free the country from foreign influence, and to dethrone the poor creature who so dishonoured the nation. At the same time the Turks declared war on the czarina. A memorable struggle ensued, which during four years deso­lated the fairest provinces of the republic. But unassisted patriotism, how­ever determined, could do little with the veteran armies of Russia; the small bands of the natives were annihilated one by one. An attempt of the con­federates to carry off the king by violence did no good to their cause. Finally, the Turks were unsuccessful, the Muscovites everywhere triumphant; circum­stances which led to a result hitherto unprecedented in history—the partition of the republic by the three neighbouring powers.

It is not difficult to fix the period when this abominable project was first entertained, or with what power it originated. Notwithstanding the cautious language of the king of Prussia in his memoirs, there is reason enough for inferring that he was its author, and that the subject was first introduced to Catherine, in 1770, by his brother Prince Henry. More than twelve months, however, elapsed before the two potentates finally arranged the limits of 'their respective pretensions; and although they agreed, without difficulty, on guar­anteeing each other’s claims, would Austria calmly witness the usurpation? If the Poles themselves were not easy to reduce, what hope of their subjugation would remain, should they be supported by the troops of the empire? That power must be permitted to share the spoil. Unscrupulous, however, as Catherine often was, she refused to be the first to mention such a project to the court of Vienna. Frederick had less shame. After some hesitation, the Austrian court acceded to the alliance. The treaty of partition was signed at St. Petersburg, August 5th, 1772. It must not be supposed that these monstrous usurpations were made without some show of justice. Both Austria and Prussia published elaborate expositions of their claims on the countries invaded. In neither case have these claims either justice or reason to support them.

The powers thus allied were not satisfied with the success of their violence; they forced a diet to sanction the dismemberment of the country. The great body of the deputies, however, refused to attend this diet of 1773; the few who did were chiefly creatures of Russia, the mercenary betrayers of the national independence. But among these few, nine or ten showed considerable intrepidity in defence of their privileges; none so much as Thaddeus Reyten, deputy of Novogrudok, who from incorruptible, daring integrity has been surnamed the Polish Cato. As unanimity could not be expected, wherever one true patriot was to be found, the foreigners laboured to change the diet into a confederation, where the great question might be decided by a majority of votes. To prevent this was the great end of the patriots: each party en­deavoured to produce the election of a marshal from among themselves; since the powers with which that officer was invested made his support or opposition no slight object.

Corrupted as were a great number of the members, they could not tamely see one Poninski, a creature of Russia, forced on them, and they exclaimed that Reyten should be their marshal. Poninski immediately adjourned the diet to the following day, and retired into the king’s apartments. Reyten also, after exhorting his countrymen to firmness, declared the sitting adjourned. Thus passed the first day. Throughout the night the gold of the three ambassadors was lavishly distributed, and more traitors made. The following day both marshals resorted to the hall of assembly; but as neither would give way, nothing was done, and the sitting was again adjourned. Seeing no prospect of unanimity, Poninski drew up the act of confederation at his own hotel, and sent it to Stanislaus to be signed. The king replied that he could not legally sign it without the consent of his ministers and senators. The menaces of the ambassadors, however, soon compelled the weak creature to accede to the confederation; but that illegal body was debarred from the hall of deliberations by the intrepid Reyten, who, with four companions, persisted in keeping possession of this sanctuary until he saw the confederation held in the open air. As longer opposition, where the very shadow of law was disregarded, would be useless, he returned to his own residence, with the melancholy consolation of reflecting that he was almost the only one who had withstood the torrent of intimidation or corruption. After his departure the partition treaty was ratified, and a permanent council was established, which, under the influence of the Russian ambassador, governed king and republic.

During the few following years Poland presented the spectacle of a country exhausted alike by its own dissensions and the arms of its enemies. The calm was unusual, and would have been a blessing could any salutary laws have been adopted by the diets. Many such, indeed, were proposed, the most signal of which was the emancipation of the serfs; but the very proposition was received with such indignation by the selfish nobles, that Russian gold was not wanted to defeat the other measures with which it was accompanied —the suppression of the veto, and the establishment of an hereditary monarchy. The enlightened Zamoyski, who had drawn up a code of laws which involved this obnoxious provision, was near falling a sacrifice to his patriotic zeal.

The Diet of 1788

But what no consideration of justice or policy could effect was at length brought about by the example of the French. In the memorable diet which opened in 1788, and which, like the French constitutional assembly, declared itself permanent, a new constitution was promulgated, was solemnly sanc­tioned by king and nobles, and was enthusiastically received by the whole nation. It reformed the vices of the old constitution—offered a new existence to the burghers and peasants—destroyed all confederations, with the fatal veto, and declared the throne hereditary in the house of Saxony. It had, however, two great faults: it limited the royal authority, so as to make the king a mere cipher, and it came too late to save the nation. The elector of Saxony refused to accept the crown, unless the royal prerogatives were ampli­fied, and Catherine resolved to destroy both it and the republic. The king of Prussia, indeed, announced his entire satisfaction with the wholesome changes which had been introduced, and pretended that he had nothing so much at heart as the welfare of the nation and the preservation of a good understanding with it; but he renewed his alliance with the czarina, the basis of which was a second partition of the republic!

THE SECOND PARTITION (1793 A.D.)

The first object of Catherine was to form the leading discontented Poles into a confederation to destroy the new constitution, and to call in her assist­ance to re-establish the ancient laws. The confederation of Targowitz struck the nation with terror, but inspired the bold with more ardour. Resistance was unanimously decreed, and the king was invested with dictatorial powers for the national defence. He even promised to take the field in person, and triumph or fall with his people. Yet, in August, 1792, a very few weeks after this ebullition of patriotism, he acceded to the infamous confederation, ordered his armies to retreat, and to leave the country open to the domination of the Russian troops. His example constrained all who had property to lose; since all preferred the enjoyment of their substance under arbitrary govern­ment to independence with poverty or exile. The Russian troops entered the kingdom and restored the ancient chains; the Prussian king followed the example, and began his second career of spoliation by the reduction of Dantzic. A diet was assembled at Grodno, but none were admitted as mem­bers except such as had opposed the constitution of 1791—none, in fact, but the slaves of the czarina. The feeble Stanislaus was compelled to attend it.

It was converted into a diet of confederation, the better to attain the ends for which it was convoked; yet some of the members were intrepid enough to protest against the meditated encroachments on the territories of the republic; nor did they desist until several were arrested, and the remainder threatened with Siberia. The Russian troops, which had hitherto occupied the approaches to the hall of assembly, and had exercised a strict surveillance over every suspected person, were now introduced into this sanctuary of the laws.

Soon the Targowitz confederates were to become aware that they had been the tools of foreign covetousness, and that the empress had demanded the re-establishment of the old condition with all abuses and perversity, only so that on the ground of the dissension, venality, and party rage of the Polish nobles she could attain her egoistic aims more surely. When at the entry of the Russian army Catherine sought to awaken the belief that the republic of Poland would be maintained in its integrity, she only wished to keep down the covetousness of the neighbouring powers. For there is no doubt that from the beginning she had planned the union of the two provinces of Volhinia and Podolia to the Russian empire, and had thought to join the remaining lands to a vassal state under Russian sovereignty.

The position and inclination of the land after the victory of the Targowitz confederates seemed favourable towards the carrying out of this plan. She thought that Prussia and Austria could therefore get their indemnification at the expense of France on the other side of the Rhine. It was only when the German arms in the west did not obtain the success hoped for, and it was feared that the two neighbouring states would demand their share in the booty and indemnification for their arduous efforts with the sword against the common enemy of monarchical principles, that she gave thought to a second partition such as she had suggested formerly in a confidential note to Prince Subow.

The joy of the Poles over the victory of the French and the unconcealed hopes of the assistance of the old friend made the empress anxious; it was only in the union of the three Eastern powers that she believed herself to have a firm guarantee against the propagation of revolutionary ideas as well as against the ingratitude and thoughtlessness of the Polish people. At least she expressed herself in this strain to Bulgakow’s successor, the new ambassador Sievers. So as to have a quiet and not dangerous neighbour in Poland, she wrote to him that it must be placed in a state of complete impotency; for this purpose she recommended him to be prudent and firm. Count Sievers took the hint and acted accordingly. Without being initiated into the secret plans of the Petersburg court, he knew how to turn the commands and instructions of the empress to good account.

The Targowitz confederates, who under the protection of the Russian empress thought to rule the re-established republic in the old manner, and whose leader, Felix Potocki, had hopes of winning the crown, from all sorts of signs expected the approaching destiny, and when the Prussians, after having formed an armed union with Russia, marched into the western borderland, the confederates fell into great dismay. They reminded the empress that the Russian ambassador had promised the integrity of the republic, but received the answer that Bulgakow had done that of his own accord; Poland was a conquered land and must await its fate.

Meanwhile the Russians remained in Volhinia and Podolia, whilst the Prus­sians took possession of the provinces in the Vistula, and after a bloody fray compelled Dantzic to surrender. At the same time the two allied states declared that it was necessary to confine Poland within narrow limits so as to suppress the extravagance of freedom which had penetrated into the republic from France, and to preserve the neighbouring states from every contagion of the democratic Jacobinism.

At the instigation of the Petersburg cabinet, a diet was appointed at Grodno in the spring by the reinstalled permanent council. The agents of the empress now adopted the usual course for obtaining suitable deputies for the meeting.

The Russian troops under the haughty General Igelstrom, and still more the sums of money by which Count Sievers operated the favours and promises which he granted or held in view, did not fail to do their work. The ambassador kept a list of noble persons, with notes as to the price at which their votes could be obtained. Thus it came about that mostly “ bribed people ” were sent by the legislative assembly as deputies to Grodno.

On the 27th of June, 1793, the diet was opened and was declared confed­erate, so that consent was not required for the resolutions. The proposal of a deputy that ambassadors should be sent to the European courts, especially Vienna, so as to appeal for their intercession and help, and that the sitting should be adjourned till their return, was rejected, although even King Stanislaus agreed to the proposal, and then, according to the wish of the Russian ambassador, chose a committee of thirty-one members whom Sievers had previously made known to his partisans. That under such circumstances the demand of Russia would meet with no obstinate resistance could be foreseen. Both parties had often enough declared that, relying on the magnan­imity and benevolence of the empress, they entirely gave themselves up to her will. By acceding to her wishes the deputies hoped to put an end to the second treaty of partition, and to deprive Prussia, whom they hated with national antipathy and by whom they considered themselves betrayed, of its share. And indeed things did not seem favourable for the claims of the Berlin court.

The Austrian government, then under the leadership of Thugut, with envy and jealousy saw the increase of power Prussia would obtain through the Polish acquisitions, and sought to postpone the partition business until the end of the French war. We shall soon see what a laming effect the proceedings on the Vistula had on the passage of arms taking place at the same time on the Rhine.

How could the two great German powers, who were hand and hand in the one place and had different tendencies on the other and worked against one another, obtain satisfactory results and success at arms ! In Petersburg irresolution and reservation prevailed. Whilst the cession of the Ukrainian and Lithuanian provinces was imperiously requested and obtained from the diet, the Prussian demands were upheld with little energy. The wish was expressed by lovers of rank and ambitious Polish nobles and Lithuania itself, that the empress and her favourite, Subow, would take the entire empire under their protection and make no further partition. The electoral noble, embittered that Duke Peter Biron, to whom the father Ernest John had left the government in 1769, granted the municipality further rights and rendered the acquisition of feudal lands available to the citizens, joined those equal to him in Poland m the same offer. The attempt almost meant interference with the autocrat. All exerted themselves to take up the yoke of Russia so as to be all the more certain of satisfying their own passions and interests. Catherine did not refuse to try and separate the cause of Russia from that of Poland; her ambassador was directed to appear only as a “just and impar­tial mediator” between Poland and Russia and to “ proceed with moderation.” Sievers demanded more money in case the empress should desire to “ increase her intentions” towards Poland.

Thus the affair dragged on for weeks; the committee of the diet sought evasion and the Russian ambassador only gave an apparent support. It was only when Prussia, after the reconquest of Mainz, made preparations to turn its arms towards the East, that the Russian empress thought it advisable, so as to avoid warlike developments, to enter into the joint liability of the treaty of partition, and now Sievers received instructions to dispose the Poles towards it, and with earnestness to accomplish the negotiations. Then followed the famous “silent sitting” of the diet at Grodno. After having locked the hall under pretext of a proposed attempt on the king, and surrounded the castle with soldiers, the ambassador compelled the assembly to authorise the committee to sign the treaty of partition with Russia drawn up by himself; then when new difficulties were raised, the first violent measure was followed by another.

After four deputies, who had especially distinguished themselves in the opposition against Prussia, had been arrested in Grodno by Russian soldiers and taken away as prisoners, Sievers had the palace again surrounded by soldiers, and compelled the diet, assembled under the presidency of the king in the closed hall, to listen to and grant the demands of Prussia. When a deep silence reigned over all and no vote for or against was heard, finally, after mid­night, the deputy Count Ankwicz declared that “silence was consent.” The marshal to the diet then asked three times of those assembled in the hall, “Does the diet authorise the commission to ratify the treaty with Prussia unconditionally?” 

As all again remained silent, he declared the resolution as unanimously agreed.

The scene would indeed have been great and tragically sublime, as it has often been represented, had not later discoveries proved that the whole thing was an understood comedy; that the deputies, so as to keep up an appearance before the people, had previously arranged the “silence” and had received their reward for it in ringing gold. Ankwicz and Bielinski received a continual income from Russia; the protest which some deputies had raised against the force used did not prevent the majority of the members of the diet from taking part in the festivities and banquets, by which the Prussian and Russian ambassadors celebrated the fortunate ending to their work of pacification.

“The play in Grodno,” remarks a historian of the present, “which for so long was considered an historical tragedy, was really only a great piece of intrigue.”

By the second treaty of partition Russia received the fertile province of east Poland, over 4,500 square miles with more than three million inhabitants; Prussia, besides the townships of Dantzic and Thorn, the provinces of Posen, Gnesen, Kalish, and other provinces of Great Poland, an increase of land united to South Prussia “ with its remaining possessions of more than a million inhabitants and 1,000 square miles.”

Scarcely a third of its former district remained to the republic of Poland. And so as to rob the last traces of independence from these poor remains and their impotent king, a perpetual council was reinstated, a new treaty formed with Russia by which the Poles could introduce no alterations into the administration without the permission of the empress, and form no union or treaties with any strange power, and the Russian troops were to have the right of invading the kingdom at all times. So that the treaty should appear as the unanimous agreement of the whole nation, those deputies who could not or would not accept it were induced by money to keep away from the diet. Thus the “Everlasting Union” took place, October 14th, 1793.

From this time on the “Illustrious Republic” of Poland became a complete Russian vassal state, in which the word of Catherine’s ambassadors was of more value than that of the king.

Lelewel says, “Stanislaus Augustus suffered all mortification, all humilia­tion, and all insults. Susceptible like all weak hearts, he wept over the republic, and instead of taking decisive steps he gave himself up to childish complaints.”

THE REVOLT OF THE PATRIOTS

The Poles have a proverb, “You may strip a Pole to his shirt, but if you attempt to take his shirt he will regain all.” Although they have not precisely verified this, they seem always to have kept it in their eye as a principle of action; they have always submitted in the first instance to the greatest aggressions with wonderful indifference and docility, but have generally made the most determined resistance to the finishing act of tyranny. “The proud Poles” might be expected to find the yoke of subjugation more galling than any other nation in the world; it was still a country of nobles, men whose only business was to rule, and cherish lofty feelings. Those who were too devoted to their liberty to stay to witness their country’s oppression were now wandering outcasts in foreign lands, but wherever they went they carried with them hearts which still yearned for their homes, although they could not find any enjoyment in them without independence. Dresden and Leipsic were the chief places of refuge for these patriots, among whom Potocki, Kollontay, Malachowski, Mbstowski, and Kosciuszko were the most conspicuous. They were not, however, willing to sacrifice the lives of their countrymen in rash and useless struggles, but waited for a favourable juncture to unsheath the sword once more against their oppressors. But their fellow patriots in Poland, who were feeling more keenly the pains of tyranny, were more impatient anti obliged them to hasten their plans," and thus,” says one who was enlisted among them, “they left to Providence the issue of the most rash enterprise that could be conceived.” The design was first formed at Warsaw, and the revolution regularly devised a commission of four persons forming the active body. Their agents were spread all over the kingdom; the plot was speedily maturing, and would no doubt have become general had not the explosion been forestalled.      .

Igelstrom, who had succeeded Sievers, and was invested with plenary power, insisted on the immediate reduction of the Polish army to fifteen thousand men. At this time it consisted of about thirty thousand, divided into small bodies, scattered in different parts of the kingdom under the sur­veillance of the Russian troops. The permanent council was obliged to obey the mandate, and issued the orders. This was the signal for throwing off the galling yoke. A strict correspondence had been carried on between the Poles abroad and their brother patriots in Poland. Cracow was fixed on as the point of junction, and unanimous consent placed the noble Kosciuszko at the head of the confederacy. The patriots of Warsaw had sent two emis­saries, in September, 1793, to this great man, who had retired to Leipsic, and he then commenced communications with Ignatius Potocki and Kollontay. Not satisfied with report, Kosciuszko went to the frontier of Poland, that he might ascertain the state of feeling; he then forwarded his companion Zayonczek to Warsaw, where he stayed ten days undiscovered. His report was that “the members of the conspiracy were zealous, but too enthusiastic; that their only connection with the army was through Madalinski, Dzialynski, and a few subalterns.” Kapustas, however, a banker of Warsaw, made himself very instrumental in preparing the minds of the people for the grand attempt proposed; and Madalinski pledged himself to risk all if they attempted to oblige him to disband his brigade.

The approach of such a man as Kosciuszko to the frontier could not be kept secret. While Zayonczek was at Warsaw, Kosciuszko had an interview with Wodzicki, commander of two thousand troops, near Cracow, and the circumstance came to the ears of a Russian colonel stationed there, but fortunately Kosciuszko was apprised of the event, and, to lull suspicion, imme­diately retired to Italy.

The arrival of Stanislaus and the Russian ambassador at Warsaw from Grodno was the signal for fresh persecution. Arrests daily took place, and Mostowski, one of the chief senators, was imprisoned. .About this time Zayonczek returned from Dresden, and the king being aware of it, and knowing he was one of the emigrants, suspected his design, and informed the Russian minister, in consequence of which the patriot was ordered to leave the king­dom. Madalinski was the first to draw the sword of rebellion. He was stationed at Pultusk, about eight leagues from Warsaw, with seven hundred cavalry; and on receiving the order to disband the corps, he refused, and declared it was impossible till their pay, which was two months in arrears, was advanced. After this, which occurred on the 15th of March, 1794, he set out for Cracow, having previously traversed the new Prussian territory, made several prisoners, and exacted contributions.

KOSCIUSZKO NAMED DICTATOR

Kosciuszko was aware of this bold step, and, though he would probably have advised more caution, knew the die was cast, and that it was now too late to debate. He hastened from Saxony, reached Cracow on the night ofthe 23rd of March, where Wodzicki, with a body of four hundred men, was ready to receive him, and on the following day was proclaimed generalissimo. The garrison and all the troops at Cracow took the oath of allegiance to Kosciuszko, and a deed of insurrection was drawn up, by which this great man was appointed dictator, in imitation of the Roman custom, in great emergencies. His power was absolute; he had the command of the armies, and the regulation of all affairs political and civil. He was commissioned, however, to appoint a national council, the choice being left to his own will. He was also empowered to nominate a successor, but he was to be subordinate to the national council.

Seldom before was confidence so fully and so unscrupulously reposed by a nation in a single individual; and never were expectations better grounded than in the present instance. Thaddeus Kosciuszko was born of a noble, but not very illustrious, Lithuanian family, and was early initiated in the science of war at the military school of Warsaw. In his youth his affections were firmly engaged to a young lady, the daughter of the marshal of Lithuania, but it was his fate to see his love crossed, and his inamorata married to another, Prince Lubomirski. He then went to France, and on his return applied to Stanislaus for a military appointment, but was refused because he was a favourite of Adam Czarwryski, whom Stanislaus hated. Kosciuszko sought to dispel his disappointment in the labours of war. The British colonies of America were then throwing off the yoke of their unnatural mother-country— their cause was that of justice and liberty, and one dear to the heart of a young, proud-spirited Pole. Kosciuszko served in the patriotic ranks of Gates and Washington, and was appointed aide-de-camp to the latter great general. When the struggle in the New World was crowned with success, he returned to his own country, where he found an equally glorious field for his exertions. He held the rank of major-general under Joseph Poniatowski in the campaign of 1792, to which office he had been raised by the diet, and we have already seen what a glorious earnest he then gave of what was to be expected from him, had not his ardour been checked by the king’s timidity and irresolution.

VICTORIES OF KOSCIUSZKO

The first acts of the dictator were to issue summonses to all the nobles and citizens; to impose a property-tax, and make all the requisite arrangements which prudence dictated with regard to the commissariat of his little army. On the 1st of April he left Cracow at the head of about four thousand men, most of whom were armed with scythes, and marched in the direction of Warsaw, to encounter a body of Russians more than thrice their own number, which he understood were ordered against them by Igelstrom.

The patriots encountered the enemy on the 4th of April, near Raclawice, a village about six or seven Polish miles to the northeast of Cracow. The battle lasted nearly five hours, but victory declared in favour of the Poles; three thousand Russians being killed, and many prisoners, eleven cannon, and a standard taken. This success confirmed the wavering patriots, and accelerated the development of the insurrection throughout the kingdom. In vain did the king issue a proclamation, by order of Igelstrom, denouncing the patriots as the enemies of the country, and directing the permanent council to commence legal proceedings against them; the tame submission of these dependents of  Igelstrom only served to increase the irritation of the patriots. The state of Poland is thus described by the Russian minister himself, in a letter of the 16th of April, addressed to the secretary of war at Petersburg, and intercepted by the Poles:

“The whole Polish army, which musters about eighteen thousand strong, is in complete rebellion, excepting four thousand, who compose the garrison of Warsaw. . . . The insurrection strengthens every moment, its progress is very rapid, and its success terrifying. I am myself in expectation of seeing the confederation of Lublin advance, and I have no hope but in God and the good cause of my sovereign. Lithuania will not fail, certainly, to follow the example, etc.”

On the same day Igelstrom ordered the permanent council to arrest above twenty of the most distinguished persons, whom he named. He also issued his orders to the grand general to disarm the Polish garrison of Warsaw. The ISth of April was the appointed day, as the most favourable to the design, since it was a festival, Easter eve, and most of the population would be at mass. Strong guards were to be stationed at the church doors; the Russian troops were to seize the powder magazines and arsenal, and the garrison were then to be immediately disarmed. In case of resistance, the Cossacks received the villainous orders to set fire to the city in several places and carry off the king. The design, however, fortunately transpired on the very same day that it was formed. Kilinski, a citizen of Warsaw, discovered the plan, and informed the patriots that Russians, in Polish uniforms, were to form the guards which, on the festivals, are stationed at the churches. In confirmation of his account he assured them that one of his neighbours, a tailor, was at work on the disguises. A private meeting of the patriots immediately took place, in which it was determined to anticipate it by unfurling the standard of insur­rection on the 17th. The precipitancy of the plot did not admit of much organisation; the only concerted step was to seize the arsenal, which was to be the signal for the insurrection.

At four in the morning a detachment of Polish guards attacked the Russian picquet, and obtained possession of the arsenal and the powder magazine, and distributed arms to the populace. A most obstinate; and bloody battle took place in the streets of Warsaw, which continued almost without intermission during two days. But notwithstanding the superiority in number of the Russian troops, amounting to nearly eight thousand, the patriots were victorious. This glorious success was not obtained without much bloodshed; above two thousand two hundred of the enemy were killed, and nearly two thousand taken prisoners. The most sanguinary affray took place before Igelstrom’s house, which was defended with four cannon and a battalion of infantry. But nothing could withstand the impetuosity of the Poles; Igelstrom narrowly escaped to Krasinski’s house, where he made offers to capitulate. The king exhorted the people to suspend their attack; in the pause, while the patriots were expecting Igelstrom’s submission, he escaped and fled to the Prussian camp, which was near Warsaw. But the patriotic spirit of the Poles on these glorious days was unalloyed by a particle of selfish or dis­honest feeling; in obedience to a proclamation demanding the restitution even of this lawful plunder of Igelstrom’s house, and issued three days after the event, all the bank notes were brought back, and even the sterling money to the amount of 95,000 ducats of gold. Many striking instances of disinterestedness were elicited by this proclamation, but the following must not be passed over in the crowd. A private soldier presented himself at the treasury with 1,000 ducats of gold which had fallen into his hands, and for a long time refused any reward for his honesty; it was with extreme reluctance that he accepted even a ducat, repeating that he found all the reward he desired in the pleasure of serving his country and performing his duty.

On the 17th the people crowded to the castle, where they found General Mokronowski and Zakrzewski, who had formerly been president of the city under the constitution of the 3rd of May. The latter was reinstated in his post by unanimous acclamation, and the general was appointed governor. Mokronowski was one of the old body of patriots, and had signalised himself in the campaign of 1792. They established a provisional executive council, consisting of twelve persons besides themselves. The council declared at their first meeting that they subscribed without reservation to the act of insurrection of Cracow; they also sent a deputation to the king to testify their respect to him, but at the same time prudently expressed their intention of obeying the orders of none but Kosciuszko. The dictator immediately ordered all the inhabitants of Warsaw to lay down their arms at the arsenal to prevent any disturbances.

The Lithuanians did not long delay to obey the call of their Polish brethren: on the night of the 23rd of April Jasinski, with three hundred soldiers and some hundred citizens, attacked the Russian garrison at Vilna, and, after a repetition of the scene of carnage at Warsaw, were left masters of the city.

THE TIDE TURNS AGAINST THE PATRIOTS

Fortune, however, was not uniformly favourable to the good cause. A body of nearly forty thousand Prussians entered the palatinate of Cracow and effected a junction with the Russians near Szczekociny, and the king of Prussia arrived in a few days to head them in person. Kosciuszko advanced with sixteen thousand regular troops and about ten thousand peasants to the defence of Cracow; and, being ignorant that the enemy were reinforced by the Prussians, found himself engaged with a force double his own. The engagement of Szczekociny took place on the 6th of June: the Poles lost about a thousand men, but made their retreat in good order, without being pursued. Kosciuszko, in announcing this affair to the supreme council, says: “We have sustained a trifling loss, compared with what we have caused the enemy. We have effected our retreat in good order, after a cannonade of three hours.” Another body of the patriots suffered a similar defeat near Kulm, three days after; and to complete the climax of misfortune, the city of Cracow fell into the hands of the Prussians on the I5th. These untoward events, following in such rapid succession, began to depress the spirits of the Poles; and the violent and seditious exclaimed that these reverses were caused by traitors, and were greatly to be attributed to the negligence of the government in not punishing the numerous individuals who crowded the prisons. Warsaw threatened to exhibit a revival of the bloody deeds of the Mountain butchers of the French revolution. On the 27 th of June a young, hot-headed demagogue inflamed the passions of the rabble with a bombastic harangue on the treachery to which he ascribed the recent reverses, and urged the necessity of checking it by making an example of the persons now in custody. On the following day they went in a crowd to the president to demand the immediate execution of the unfortunate prisoners, and being refused, they broke open the prisons and actually hanged eight persons. This disgraceful and almost indiscriminate butchery was with difficulty stopped by the authorities. Every true patriot lamented deeply this blot on the glory of their revolution, and none more than the humane and upright Kosciuszko. “See,” said he, “what tragic scenes have passed at Warsaw, almost before my eyes ! The populace have indulged in unpardonable excesses, which I must punish severely. The day before yesterday (the 28th) will be an indel­ible stain on the history of our revolution; and I confess that the loss of two battles would have done us less harm than that unfortunate day, which our enemies will make use of to represent us in an unfavourable light in the eyes of all Europe !” He ordered a strict investigation, and seven of the ringleaders were hanged.

The emperor of Austria had preserved a neutrality up to this time, but on the 30th of June he announced his intention to march an army into Little Poland, “ to prevent by this step all danger to which the frontiers of Galicia might be exposed, as well as to insure the safety and tranquillity of the states of his imperial majesty.” The Austrians entered Poland accordingly without opposition, but offered not the least molestation to the Poles. The invasion, however peaceful, was only like a “shadow before” of “coming events.”

In the meantime the Prussians and Russians continued to approach War­saw, at the distance of three leagues from which Kosciuszko was encamped, at a place called Pracka-Wola. It was here that one of his brothers in arms, and who has recorded the events of this portion of his glorious career, found him sleeping on straw. The picture he draws of this great man in his camp is an interesting view of the hero who upheld the fate of Poland. “ We passed,” says Count Oginski,“from Kosciuszko’s tent to a table prepared under some trees. The frugal repast which we made here, among about a dozen guests, will never be effaced from my memory. The presence of this great man who has excited the admiration of all Europe; who was the terror of his enemies and the idol of the nation; who, raised to the rank of generalissimo, had no ambition but to serve his country and fight for it; who always pre­served an unassuming, affable, and mild demeanour; who never wore any distinguishing mark of the supreme authority with which he was invested; who was contented with a surtout of coarse grey cloth, and whose table was as plainly furnished as that of a subaltern officer, could not fail to awaken in me ('very sentiment of esteem, admiration, and veneration, which I have sin­cerely felt for him at every period of my life.”

The enemy continued to advance towards Warsaw, and encamped near Wola, a league from the city. They were fifty thousand strong, forty thousand Prussians and ten thousand Russians. The city had been hastily fortified at the commencement of the insurrection, and with the protection of Kosciuszko’s army resisted all the enemy’s attacks. The first serious combat took place on the 27th of July, and was repeated on the 1st and 3rd of August, when the Prussians attempted to bombard the town, but not a house was injured. On the 2nd, Frederick William wrote to Stanislaus recommend­ing him to use his influence to induce the inhabitants to surrender, to which the king of Poland answered that it was not in his power to do so while Kosciuszko’s army lay between Warsaw and the enemy. The same spirit of patriotism, however, did not animate all the Poles; but it is satisfactory, though apparently singular on the first appearance, to find that the defaulters in the g)od cause were chiefly rich capitalists, men who in Poland at that time had scarcely a thought beyond stock-jobbing. But these malcontents formed only a small portion of the people, and were obliged to cherish their opinions and wishes in secret. On the 16th of August General Dombrowski, who had lately had some advantage in skirmishes with the Russians at Czerniakow, attacked them a second time, but was obliged to retire. This was followed by many warm actions, in which Dombrowski, Prince Joseph Poniatowski, Pozinski, and many others eminently distinguished themselves. The hottest affair took place in the night of the 28th. Dombrowski was attacked, while at the same time General Zayonczek was advancing his troops against the Prussian army. The courage and patriotism of the Poles predominated on this occasion. In the night of the 5th of September the Prussians and Rus­sians made a sudden and unexpected retreat, with so much precipitation that they left the wounded and sick, as well as a great portion of their baggage.

UPRISING IN THE PRUSSIAN PROVINCES; REVERSES IN LITHUANIA

This sudden retreat of the king of Prussia, with a superior army of forty thousand men, appeared at first so unaccountable that even Kosciuszko imagined it was a feint, and would not allow his troops to pursue them; but the real cause was the news that insurrections had broken out in the Polish prov­inces which had been recently annexed to Prussia. The Prussian yoke was even more galling to the Poles than that of Russia, on many accounts. In all his new provinces Frederick William had introduced German laws, and even went so far as to oblige his vanquished subjects to learn the language of their victors; so that the Poles foresaw that even the very traces of the Polish nation were to be erased from the face of the earth. The inhabitants of Great Poland had not been deaf to the call of their brethren of Cracow and Warsaw; Mniewski, castellan of Cujavia, and other leading men had found means to open a communication with the patriots at the very com­mencement of the revolution, and had even contrived to form magazines of arms and ammunition in some retired woods during the space of five months, with such circumspection that not the slightest suspicion was excited. On the 23rd of August, when most of the Prussian troops were engaged in the siege of Warsaw, and but weak garrisons were left in the Polo-Prussian towns, a small body of confederates, having assembled in a wood near Sieradz, attacked the Prussian guard, seized the magazines, and remained masters of the town. The insurrection became general in a few days; the palatinates of Kaliz and Posen joined the confederacy by the 25th, and Mniewski with a handful of heroes marched to Wloclawek, a town on the Vistula in the palatinate of Brest-Cuyovski, where he seized thirteen large barks laden with ammunition, designed for the siege of Warsaw. These bold examples were imitated in the other palatinates; the spirit of patriotism began to evince itself even in the heart of Dantzic, and one of the patriotic detachments penetrated as far as Silesia.

Such was the state of affairs which called Frederick William from the siege of Warsaw. His ministers and officers prompted him to take the most severe measures to reduce the patriots, in the execution of which Colonel Szekuby signalised himself by excessive barbarity; but this cruelty only served to render their tyrants the more odious in the sight of the Poles and to animate them in their battle of freedom.

Kosciuszko sent Dombrowski with a considerable number of troops to second the insurgents, and so admirably did he perform his orders that by the middle of September all Great Poland, except a few towns, was in the possession of the patriots.

The good cause was not thriving so prosperously in Lithuania; Vilna had fallen into the hands of the Russians on the 12th of August, and nearly all the rest of the province soon shared the same fate. Catherine, to crush the revolution, ordered her general, Suvarov, to march from the frontiers of Turkey towards Warsaw, and on the 16th of September he attacked a body of the Polish army at Krupczyce, a little village to the east of Brest-Litovski, and drove them towards this latter place. The attack was renewed on the fol­lowing day, when the patriots were overpowered by superior forces, and many were taken prisoners.  _

This unfortunate defeat laid open the road to Warsaw, so that ICosciuszko was obliged to advance to support the flying army. He proceeded to Grodno, and having appointed Mokronowski commander of the Lithuanian army, he returned to prevent the junction of Suvarov with Fersen, who headed the other Russian corps.

THE FALL OF KOSCIUSZKO

The 10th of October was the decisive day; Kosciuszko attacked Fersen, near Maciejowice. The battle was bloody and fatal to the patriots; victory was wavering, and Poninski, who was expected every minute with a rein­forcement, not arriving, Kosciuszko, at the head of his principal officers, made a grand charge into the midst of the enemy. He fell covered with wounds, and all his companions were killed or taken prisoners. His inseparable friend, the amiable poet, Niemcewicz, was among the latter number. The great man lay senseless among the dead; but at length he was recognised notwithstanding the plainness of his uniform, and was found still breathing. His name even now commanded respect from the Cossacks, some of whom had been going to plunder him; they immediately formed a litter with their lances to carry him to the general, who ordered his wounds to be dressed, and treated him with the respect he merited. As soon as he was able to travel he was conveyed to Petersburg, where Catherine condemned this noble patriot to end his days in prison. Clemency, indeed, was not to be expected from a woman who had murdered her husband.

Such was the termination of Kosciuszko’s glorious career. The news of his captivity spread like lightning to Warsaw, and everyone received it as the announcement of the country’s fall. “It may appear incredible,” says Count Oginski, “but I can attest what I have seen, and what a number of witnesses can certify with me, that many women miscarried at the tidings; many invalids were, seized with burning fevers; some fell into fits of madness which never after left them; and men and women were seen in the streets wringing their hands, beating their heads against the walls, and exclaiming in tones of despair, ‘Kosciuszko is no more; the country is lost!’ ”

In fact the Poles seemed all paralysed by this blow; the national council, indeed, appointed Wawrzecki successor to Kosciuszko, but they despaired of being able to withstand the Russians, and limited their hopes and exertions to prevent Warsaw from being taken by assault, for which purpose they ordered the troops to concentre near the city. They fortified Praga, one of the suburbs of Warsaw, which was separated from the city by the Vistula, and was most exposed to attack. Every individual, indiscriminately, was employed in the works. Suvarov, hearing that the king of Prussia was advancing towards Warsaw, did not choose to have his prey taken out of his mouth, and hastened with forced marches, joined Fersen, attacked the Poles on the 2Gth of October before Praga, and drove them into their intrenchments.

The batteries of Praga mounted more than one hundred cannon, and the garrison was composed of the flower of the Polish army. On the 4th of November Suvarov ordered an assault, and the fortification was carried after some hours’ hard fighting. Suvarov, the butcher of Ismail, a fit general for an imperial assassin, was at the head of the assailants, and his very name announces a barbarous carnage. Eight thousand Poles perished sword in hand, and the Russians having set fire to the bridge, cut off the retreat of the inhabitants. Above twelve thousand townspeople, old men, women, and children, were murdered in cold blood, and to fill the measure of their iniquity ami barbarity, the Russians fired the place in four different parts, and in a few hours the whole of Praga, inhabitants as well as houses, was a heap of ashes.

The council, finding that Warsaw could not be defended any longer, capit­ulated on the 6th of November; many of the soldiers were obliged to lay down their arms, and the Russian troops entered the city. The authors of the revolution, the generals and soldiers who refused to disarm, had quitted Warsaw, but, being pursued by Fersen, many were killed or dispersed, and the rest surrendered on the 18th.

All the patriots of consequence who fell into the hands of the Russians were immured in the prisons of Petersburg, or sent to Siberia. Ignatius Potocki, Mostowski, Kapustas, and Kalinski were among the captives. Their treatment, however, was not so cruel as it has been frequently represented; Kosciuszko’s prison, for instance, was a comfortable suite of rooms, where he beguiled his time with reading and drawing; Potocki was equally well lodged, and amused himself with gazing at the passers-by from his windows. This was not, indeed, an exact observance of the article of capitulation, “We promise a general amnesty for all that is passed,” but it was the very acme of honour, compared with the general tenor of Russia’s conduct towards Poland.

THE FINAL PARTITION OF POLAND

The king of Prussia, as vengeful as the weak and bad generally are when in power, was less merciful even than Suvarov. He appointed a commission to judge and punish those who had been concerned in the insurrection, as if they were bona fide his own subjects. Many patriots, too, who were so unfortunate as to fall into the Prussian’s hands, were doomed to pine in the fortresses of Glogau, Magdeburg, Breslau, etc., and Madalinski was one of these. Austria buried some of the patriots in her prisons of Olmutz, thus consum­mating the triumph of barbarism.

On the 24th of October, 1795, the treaty for the third partition of Poland was concluded, but the arrangement between Prussia and Austria, as to the limits of the palatinate of Cracow, was not settled till the 21st of October, 1796.

By this third and last partition Russia acquired the remaining portion of Lithuania and a great part of Samogitia, part of Kulm on the right of the Bug, and the rest of Volhinia. Austria obtained the greater part of the palatinate of Cracow, the palatinates of Sandomir and Lublin, with a part of the district of Kulm, and the parts of the palatinates of Brest, I’olachia, and Masovia which lay along the left bank of the Bug. Prussia had the portions of the palatinates of Masovia and Polachia on the right bank of the Bug; in Lithuania, part of the palatinate of Troki and Samogitia, which is on the left bank of the Niemen; and a district of Little Poland forming part of the palatinate of Cracow. Thus the banks of the Piliga, the Vistula, the Bug, and the Niemen marked out the frontiers of Russia, Prussia, and Austria.

The republic was thus erased from the list of nations after an existence of near ten centuries. Perhaps no people on earth have shown more personal bravery than the Poles; their history is full of wonderful victories. But how little the most chivalrous valour or the most splendid military successes could avail with such a vicious frame of society has been but too well seen. That a country without government (for Poland had none, properly so called, after the extinction of the Jagellos), without finances, without army, and depending for its existence year after year on tumultuous levies, ill disciplined, ill armed, and worse paid, should so long have preserved its independence—in defiance, too, of the powerful nations around, and with a great portion of its own inhabitants, whom ages of tyranny had exasperated, hostile to its success—is one of the most astonishing facts in all history.

A KING WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Stanislaus Augustus was thus left without a kingdom; the Russian am­bassador obliged him to go to Grodno, where he signed a formal act of abdication on the 25th of November, and accepted an annual pension of two hundred thousand ducats, which was insured to him by the three powers, with the promise that his debts also should be paid. On the death of Catherine, which happened in November, 1796, he went to Petersburg, where he ended his unhappy and dishonourable life on the 12th of February, 1798.

Harsh and uncharitable as the world is, even the most unworthy and degenerate generally find -some few so merciful as, either from warmth of heart or fellow feeling, to defend them; and it would be strange if Stanislaus had not some panegyrists. But disagreeable as is the office of the moral censor, the character of Stanislaus, being wound up with the destinies of a nation, ought not to pass by unnoticed. Stanislaus stands in the usual predicament of kings and prominent personages, between flattering admirers and severe detractors. The usual course, in such a case, is to measure the evil with the good and take the mean between them; but this, though the readiest mode of arriving at a result, is not the surest, since it proceeds on the presumption of the truth both of the favourable and unfavourable state­ments. In the present instance the estimate need not be merely speculative, since there are abundant data on which to calculate. The warmest panegyrists of this unfortunate king venture no further in their praises than to give him credit for good intentions in policy, and to plead his patronage of learning and the arts as a palliation for his political errors. With regard to the first excuse, it may be remarked that moral weakness or imbecility is no more admissible as an excuse for error than recklessness of character, since the latter is equally constitutional as the former. The second plea requires more investigation. It is customary to attribute to Stanislaus the advance in learning and education in his reign; but while we admit his talent and taste for the trifles of literature and art, which is the utmost that can be proved, we must observe that the grand impetus to intellectual improvement was not given by Stanislaus. He certainly spent not only his revenue, which was considerable, but contracted great debts, which were twice paid by the state; but it was mostly on frivolous writers, bad painters, and loose women that those sums were expended. The progress of education and liberal inquiry is to be attributed to Konarski and his coadjutors, and the commission of education also, which was appointed by the diet, comes in for a share of the credit. Poniatowski, indeed, patronised great men in literature and the arts; but the effect of such patronage is at best of doubtful benefit, and the merit of the patron is of a negative character, being so mixed up with vanity and love of notoriety. It has been said by Rulhiere that “no magnanimity, no strength appeared in his character; that he only thought of becoming a patron of all the arts of luxury, and particularly to cultivate little objects of this nature, to which he attached the highest consequence.” His panegyrist could only assume that he was not one of the chief causes of his country’s annihilation, but cannot deny that no monarch could have been more suited to produce such an unfortunate effect; and though his censor might admit the truth of his assertion, as recorded by Oginski, “I have always wished for the happiness of my country, and I have only caused it misfortune!” he would remind the royal criminal that even “hell is paved with good intentions.”

The extinction of the Polish republic afforded ample scope for the exercise of political declamation: the tribunes of France, the parliament of England, and the press of both’ countries abounded with eloquent invectives against the perfidious violence of the partitioning powers. The troubled state of affairs, however, throughout Europe did not permit any power to interfere in behalf of the oppressed. Every prince was too intent on securing his own preservation to dream of breaking a lance for another. Hence the impunity with which the three potentates proceeded to fill their prisons with not only those who had distinguished themselves during the recent struggle but with such as either ventured to complain, or were even suspected of dissatisfaction at the new state of things. The inhabitants of the great towns, especially of the three most influential, Warsaw, Cracow, and Vilna, were rigorously dis­armed, and formidable garrisons of foreign troops were everywhere ready to crush all attempts at insurrection.

But if the cry of vengeance was smothered where the conquerors were present, other countries were soon made to resound with it. If Turkey and Sweden, two powers equally alarmed at the aggrandisement of Russia, Austria, and Prussia, felt their own feebleness too sensibly to oppose it by arms, France and the countries which French influence pervaded were ready to combine in any measure that might distract the enemies of the revolution. To France and Italy, therefore, the eyes of the Poles were now turned for aid, both to recover their independence and to gratify their resistless feeling of revenge. A secret confederation was formed at Cracow, the members of which offered to the French directory to sacrifice their fortunes and lives at the first call of the republic. This was not a vain offer: hundreds of the warlike nobles continued, notwithstanding the strict surveillance observed by their new masters, to escape from their bondage, and proceed to Venice or to Paris. In pur­suance of the compact made between their leader, Dombrowski, and the directory, Polish legions were formed in aid of the new Italian republics, and ready to act wherever the French government might require. Their pay and subsistence were to be furnished by the Italian states; that of Lombardy was the first to hire their sendees. They preserved their native uniform and arms, but assumed the revolutionary cockade; and their motto of “Gli uomini liberi sono fratelli ” showed how completely they harmonised with the spirit which shook Europe to its centre. That both the directors and Bonaparte held out to them the prospect of their country’s restoration is well known; but their credulity must have been equal at least to their hopes, or they would never have placed the shadow of reliance on the promises of a people by whom they had been so often betrayed. Their martial prowess—confined chiefly to Italy—contributed greatly to the success of the republican cause. Their number amounted to some thousands, and their valour was unabated. But they were soon taught to distrust the fair professions of the republican hero. When anxious to preserve, by his influence, an entrance to the congress of Rastatt for a Polish representative, they were coolly answered, “that the hearts of all friends of liberty were for the brave Poles; but time and destiny alone could restore them as a nation.” Hope seldom reasons well; if the time of regeneration was deferred, might it not arrive—perhaps at no distant period—when a more favourable conjuncture of circumstances would render it impossible that the French government should refuse to urge their claims? So thought the Poles, who still continued under the banners of the republic.

The same unvaried picture of services performed, and of hopes deceived, is exhibited throughout the connection of the Polish legions with France. Their adherence to a foreign cause—for in no sense could it be called their own—so steadfastly and devotedly maintained, can be explained only by the resistless passion of the Poles for military fame: to them the battle-field is as much a home as the deep to the Englishman. Though, during the absence of Bonaparte in Egypt, they were literally exterminated by the Austrians and Russians, they repaired their losses with astonishing promptitude: in 1801 they amounted to fifteen thousand. Their blood flowed in vain: in every treaty which their valour had been so instrumental in winning, themselves and country were forgotten. Seeing the disappointment of their hopes, many of them, after the peace of Luneville (1801), bade adieu to the French service, and returned to their own country, where an amnesty had been recently pro­claimed. A considerable number, indeed, remained: some entered into the service of the king of Etruria; others departed on the ill-starred expedition to St. Domingo; and the few who survived returned to their country after the formation of the grand duchy.

While the Polish soldiers were thus exhibiting a useless valour in foreign climes, their countrymen at home must not be overlooked. The condition of the inhabitants varied according to the characters of the sovereigns under whom they were placed. The aim of Prussia and Austria was to Germanise their respective portions, and gradually to obliterate every trace of nationality. Each, accordingly, introduced German laws and usages; the language of the public schools and of the public acts was German; Germans alone were intrusted with public employments. Russia pursued a more politic or a more generous policy: with the view, perhaps, of one day extending her Polish pos­sessions, she strove to attach the inhabitants to her government. The preser­vation of the Lithuanian statutes, the influence in the general administration possessed by the native marshals elected in the dietines of the nobles, the publication of the acts of government in the native tongue, and the admis­sion of the people to the highest dignities, rendered the condition of Russian Poland much less galling than that of the portion subjected to either of the two other powers. Since the accession of Alexander, especially, great encour­agement had been given both to the great branches of national industry and to the diffusion of education. An imperial ukase of April 4th, IS03, had conferred extraordinary privileges on the University of Vilna; and in no case had the czar neglected any opportunity of improving the temporal or moral condition of his new subjects. The conduct of Austria in this respect was less liberal. Under the plea—a true one, no doubt, but not sufficient to justify so arbitrary a measure—that the spirit of the students of Cracow was too revo­lutionary to consist with a monarchical government, she destroyed that ven­erable seat of learning, which during more than four centuries had supported the religion and the civilisation of Poland; and though in lieu of it she founded a college at Leopol, the jealous regulations and vigorous surveillance intro­duced into that seminary were not likely to fill its halls with native students. Nor were the circumstances of the people in other respects more enviable. Galicia, which had served as a granary to Austria in her endless wars with the French, and where her losses of men had been repaired, was now exhausted; so that the nobles of this province—the richest, perhaps, in Poland—have not even yet been able to recover from the misery into which they were plunged by the exactions of the government. Those of Polish Prussia were scarcely treated with more indulgence; but though the state was rapacious, their enterprising spirit and the superior facilities they enjoyed for commerce neutralised the severity of their imposts, and rendered their condition one of comparative comfort. In all the three, the minds of the inhabitants were freed from all apprehension on political accounts; government prosecutions had long ceased; the general amnesty had covered all anterior events with the veil of oblivion.

CHAPTER IV

PARTIAL RESTORATION AND FINAL DISSOLUTION

1796-1863 A.D.