Of the ruin of a realm, we have a most appalling example. In the places of many of the old Polish cities, it is said, that dense forests have now sprung up; that the traveller, as he makes his way through their interminable shades, finds the pavement of streets and the relics of deserted towns in the midst of a lifeless solitude. And now, that the sum of evils may be full, the nation of the Poles seems destined to a fall, from which there will be to them no further resurrection.
Yet the former history of Poland hardly palliates the position which the sovereigns and states of Europe have assumed towards her. In the days of her republican pride, was she not the chosen ally of France and the rightful mistress of Prussia? The crowns of Sweden and of Bohemia have at separate times been worn by her kings; the Danube was hardly the limit of her southern frontier; the coasts of the Euxine were hers; and when Vienna itself was about to yield to the yoke of Turkish barbarism, it was a Polish king that stayed the wave and rescued Christendom from the danger of Turkish supremacy. If France had on the one side saved Europe from the Saracens, Poland had in its turn protected it against the Turks; and John Sobieski alone deserves to be named with Charles Martel, as the successful defenders of Christendom in the moments of its greatest danger.
But in the foreign politics of European powers, generosity and gratitude have usually prevailed no more than other moral considerations. The interests of the state have sometimes disputed the ascendency with the intrigues of courtiers, or the cabals of ecclesiastics; but the voice of justice has rarely been heard in its own right. Political vice has usually been counteracted by political vice; and if the right of the stronger has been sometimes resisted, it was only from the multiplication of jealousies. Thus, we shall see, that the crisis of Poland was delayed, not by its intrinsic strength, but by the collision of foreign interests.
A consideration of the revolutions in Polish history is full of instruction for our nation. The inquirer finds, that the causes of the decline of that unhappy country were deeply rooted in its constitution; that it yielded to foreign aggression, only because it had been reduced to anarchy by the licentious vehemence of domestic feuds. The Poles themselves struck the wounds of which their republic bled; and their efforts at resistance would have been ample and effectual, if they had not continued their factions till the ruin was complete; if the alarums which aroused them to united action, had not been the knell of their country.
The Poles are a branch of the great Slavonian family of nations. No history reveals, no tradition reports their origin. The plains upon the Vistula were at a very early period the seat of their abode; and when, in the seventh century, the Bulgarians excited movements on the Danube, new tribes crossed the Carpathian mountains, and perhaps contributed to the development of the political condition among their brethren whom they joined.
The name itself of Poles, does not occur till the end of the tenth century; but fable has not omitted to lend an aspect of romance to the early fortunes of the nation. Shall we repeat the wonderful tale of the hospitable peasant Piast, who is said have been chosen in 840 to be the Polish king? His descendants are said to have been kings in Poland till the time of Casimir III.; and so late as 1675 were princes in Silesia. It was owing to the virtues of this plebeian monarch, that the natives among the Poles, when elected to be kings, were called Piasts.
The German kings were zealous to diffuse Christianity beyond the Vistula; and Mjesko, who was baptized in 964, was the first of the Polish chiefs who embraced Christianity, and at the same time became the vassal of the German king. Yet it is hard to assign a fixed character to the government during this earliest historical period. As Poland is a plain, its natural aspect invited aggressions from all sides; and it was in its turn fond of war as a profession. Its limits were uncertain, and the power of its chiefs ill defined. Nor was its relation to Germany established. International law was but faintly developed; nor could it be said, whether the masters of Poland did homage for the whole, or only for a portion of their territory. Indeed, it was sometimes utterly refused. To the peremptory demand of tribute, on the part of the Emperor Henry V., the Polish Duke replied, "no terror can make me own myself your tributary, even to the amount of a penny; I had rather lose my whole country, than possess it in ignominious peace." Unsuccessful in the field, the emperor relied on his treasures to make his supremacy acknowledged. "See here," said he to the Polish deputation, opening his chest, "the resources which shall enable me to crush you." A Polish envoy immediately drew from his finger a ring of great value, and throwing it in, exclaimed, "add this to your gold."[[9]] Venality was not in fashion in those days, and the emperor suffered a complete overthrow.
So it was, that for the four first centuries in Polish history, prowess in the field rendered the nation glorious and passionately fond of war. The pressure of external force at last led to the formation of a permanent territory, and an acknowledged form of government, after a long subdivision of the country among various chiefs, and a confused political condition, eminently favourable to the leaders of a barbarous aristocracy.
The first permanent mass that arose out of the chaos of separate principalities, was Great Poland, on the Wartha; and this was at last united under the same master with Little Poland, on the Vistula. The nation desired a king, as their only refuge from anarchy and invasions. The Pope John XII. had been desired to appoint the king; he pleaded the principle of nonintervention, and bade the nation execute its own laws and its own will. In consequence, Ladislaus was crowned with great solemnity at Cracau, in 1320, and the series of Polish kings is from that time uninterrupted. But the period of aristocratic anarchy had impressed a character upon the government and the nation. There existed no established laws, no rising commerce, no pure religious worship. The bravery of the Poles in the field was brilliant, but barren. Their enthusiasm won victories, but could not turn them to the advantage of the country. And when, at the epoch we have named, a king was chosen for the whole state, his power was already limited, not by a fair representation of the interests of the nation, but solely by the high aristocracy. Without their consent no laws could be established, nor wars declared, nor government administered, nor justice decreed.
And yet the ensuing period of Polish history is that of greatest national prosperity. The vices of the constitution were not fully developed till the close of the sixteenth century. Indeed, Casimir the Great, the immediate successor of Ladislaus, was able, like Augustus of Rome, during a reign of thirty-seven years, to establish something like justice and tranquillity in his kingdom. If he lost territory on the one side, he gained large provinces from Russia on the other. But his greatest merit consisted in his functions as a law-giver. His code was written in the Latin, expressed in neat and clear language, and was favourable to the industry and prosperity of the country. The Polish historians delight to recount the magnificence which his economy enabled him to maintain; and applying to him what used to be said of the Roman, declare that he found Poland of wood, and left it of brick.