The Prince-Bishop, implicated in the late Polish revolution, had barely escaped arrest by flight. He was bringing to Paris his niece and his nephew, orphans who had been placed under his guardianship. It will here be necessary to cast a retrospective glance at the series of events which brought this exiled family to Paris.

The Bishop of Wilna was a son of Prince Massalski, Grand General of Lithuania. He attained to the episcopate[3] at an early age, and became possessed of considerable influence. His contemporaries describe him as a learned scholar, erudite, and gifted with a quick and lively intelligence, but at the same time add that he was frivolous and fickle. To excessive timidity he united a disposition prone to meddle with eagerness in every concern. Hasty in his schemes and irresolute afterwards in their execution, his conduct was often at variance with the principles he professed.

The Bishop was a gambler: he lost in three years more than a hundred thousand ducats, and in spite of the immense territorial possessions of the Massalski was continually in monetary difficulties.

His family was one of the most influential in Lithuania, where two rival houses—the Radziwill and the Massalski—contended for supremacy. The latter supported the Czartoryski faction, assisting them by every means in their power to obtain, with Russia’s concurrence, the Polish throne for their nephew, Stanislaus-Augustus. The Radziwill, on the other hand, sworn enemies of the Czartoryski, upheld the ancient traditions of the Polish Republic, proving themselves more than hostile to Russian influence and to the nomination of Stanislaus-Augustus.

The Polish feudal lords exercised in their respective provinces the authority of sovereigns;[4] their chamberlains, masters of hounds, and equerries could compare with Crown officials. They possessed body-guards of dragoons, cossacks, and infantry, and often a considerable militia, of which the officers equalled in rank those of the royal forces.[5]

It is evident that the nobles, although weakened by formidable factions, could dispose of a power with which the king had to reckon. They enjoyed all feudal privileges, and, heedless of the authority of the Crown, were unwilling to yield up any of their prerogatives, each one being determined to exercise solely that authority in his own palatinate or woivodie, the result being that the lesser diètes, called Dietines,[6] which preceded the election of a king or of a grand diète, usually ended in a sanguinary conflict. At the critical moment, when the Dietines met for the election of Stanislaus-Augustus, the Massalski most opportunely distributed large sums of money; sent their troops to surround the Dietines, of which they felt least assured, and, thanks to these extremely efficacious electoral proceedings, none of the members proposed by the Radziwill were nominated. On hearing this result, Prince Radziwill hurriedly left his castle, or rather fortress, and hastened to Wilna, escorted by the two hundred noblemen who formed his usual retinue, and who were the terror of the country. He broke into the episcopal palace, drove out the judges appointed by the Dietines and, violently apostrophising the prelate, he ran over rapidly the names of the former bishops whom the princes had put to death for interfering in public affairs, ending with these words: “Next time you are subjected to the same temptation, remember that I have a hundred thousand ducats in reserve with which to obtain my absolution at Rome.”[7]

The Bishop was at first dismayed by Radziwill’s insolent threats, and allowed him to depart without opposition, but, suddenly recovering his presence of mind, he sounded the alarm bell, armed the people, recalled the judges, barricaded the episcopal palace and cathedral, and drove Radziwill out of Wilna. This incident affords a striking illustration of the violence commonly perpetrated in Poland at that time.

The Prince-Bishop having so warmly supported the election of Stanislaus-Augustus, it was natural to expect that he would continue to uphold the authority of the King. Such, however, was not the case.

The treaty of peace signed at Warsaw in 1768 between Russia and Poland had given great offence to the heads of the Catholic clergy, for it granted to the Polish dissidents, to the Greek community, to the Lutherans and Calvinists, the same rights which had till then been the exclusive privilege of the Roman Catholic Church.[8] Most of the bishops refused to submit to these new terms. The share which Polish dissidents might now claim in public affairs, the appointments to which they might now aspire, combined to exasperate the nobility. Armed confederations were organised on all sides, and entered into conflict with the Court party, and with the Russians, whose troops, under pretext of upholding the King’s authority, occupied in Poland numerous forts, and perpetrated inconceivable outrages. Bishop Massalski was one of the principal promoters of the most famous of these associations—that of the Confederation of Bar. His father, the Grand General of Lithuania, had just died, and Count Oginski had succeeded him in that important command. The Bishop found no difficulty in gaining him over to the new confederation.[9]

On the 20th of September, Oginski had already attacked and defeated the Russians, captured half a regiment and massacred the other half, but shortly after fortune deserted his cause. Overcome by numbers, and, it is said, by treachery, he fled with difficulty to Königsberg amidst a thousand dangers.