At this crisis the king died, and his brother, John Casimir, a man tried by misfortunes, who, having been the inmate of a French dungeon, afterwards, from disappointment and chagrin, became a Jesuit and a Cardinal, was elected his successor.
The powers and the revenues of the king had been plundered; one thing more was alone wanting to give full development to the Polish constitution. In the year 1652, a diet was dissolved by the opposition of a single deputy; this was remarkable enough; but it was still more strange, that what had been once effected by passion, should remain an acknowledged right; and that while the country rung with curses against the deputy who had set the example, the power should still have been claimed as a sacred privilege. No redress could be obtained except by confederations; and it was now the height of anarchy, that public law recognized these separate assemblies. Indeed, the days of the liberum veto were necessarily the days of legalized insurrection. It was a sort of dictatorship, invented for the new contingency. Only the misery was, that there could be as many confederations as there were separate factions.
Poland had, all this while, formidable foreign enemies to encounter. The Swedes, the Czar, the Porte, were all greedy for aggrandizement. This was no time for domestic dissensions. The only wonder is, that the nation could have resisted its enemies at all. As it was, several provinces were lost; in 1657, the Duke of Prussia seized the opportunity of freeing himself altogether from his relation as vassal to the Polish crown.
The melancholy Casimir could not endure all this. He held a diet in 1661, and told the deputies plainly: "First or last, our state will be divided by our neighbours. Russia will extend itself to the Bug, and perhaps to the Vistula; the Elector of Brandenburgh will seize upon Great Poland and the neighbouring districts; and Austria will not remain behind, but will take Cracau and other places." The prophecy was uttered in vain; and a few years after, the philosophic monarch, having buried his wife, for whose sake alone he had been willing to reign, resigned the crown, and removed to France.
This was a new state of things. A diet of election was convened, and the decree ratified, that henceforward no king of Poland should be allowed to resign. One would think the decree very flattering to the nation!
The next object was the choice of a king. We have seen, that the Poles had usually elected a member of the previous royal family. They had adhered to the Jagellons, and now also to the Sigismunds, until the families were extinct. The field was therefore open; and this time the division lay, not between contending factions of the high aristocracy, but between the high aristocracy, on the one hand, and the "plebeian nobility," on the other. The party of "the many" prevailed; and the electoral vote was given to Michael Wisniowiecki, a man of great private worth, poor, as to his fortunes, modest, and retiring. The joy of the inferior nobility was at its height; and the shouts of the noble multitude, and the salutes from the artillery, proclaimed aloud the triumphs of equality. Poor Michael declined the honour, in vain. He entreated, with tears in his eyes, to be released from it. His tears were equally vain. He made his escape from the electoral field on horseback; the deputies pursued him and compelled him to be king.
From the commencement of his reign the faction of the high aristocracy opposed him. The first diet which he convened was broken up; the senate was openly discontented; the enthusiasm of the nobility grew cool; and it was found that a mistake had been committed. The Cossacks were tumultuous; the Turks pursued a ruinous war, terminated only by a disgraceful peace. The nation was indignant; a new war was decreed; when, fortunately for himself and the state, the king died. John Sobieski, the leader of the aristocracy, succeeded.
The relief of Vienna, in 1683, is the crowning glory of Sobieski. His subsequent campaigns were unsuccessful; for he had neither sufficient troops, nor money, nor provisions, nor artillery. Nor was he happy in his family. The great champion of Christendom was governed by his wife, and the nation sneered at his weakness. His ambition as a father led him to desire, during his lifetime, the election of his son as successor. Unable to accomplish this, he took to avarice, not a very respectable passion for a private man, but a very dangerous one for a prince. But in avarice he had able auxiliaries in his wife and the Jews. Every thing was venal; and the king grew rich, without growing happy. As a last resort, he tried retirement and letters. But the pursuit of letters, in itself intrinsically exalted, must be chosen in its own right, if happiness is to be won by it; to the disappointed statesman it is but a mere shield against despair; a sort of philosopher's robe to hide the ghastliness of sullen discontent. Sobieski found in the Latin classics, which he diligently read, no healing "medicine for the soul diseased;" and the atrabilious humours of his wife, and the torment of his station, and his mental discontent, all combined to hasten his death. He passed from this world on the same hour and the same day as his election.
We have traced the progress of the infringements upon the royal authority; we have seen the election of the king decided by a faction in an oligarchy, by a rabble of noblemen, by the high aristocracy; the next election was decided by bribes. Two strong parties only appeared; the French, which declared for Conti, and the Saxon, which advocated the interests of the Elector Augustus. But the French ambassador had distributed all his money, while the Saxon envoy was still in Funds. So each party chose its own king; each made proclamation of its sovereign; each sung its anthem in the Cathedral; but the French party subsided, as soon as the primate, its chief support, could agree upon his price.
Thus the Saxon elector prevailed. He was one of the most dissolute princes of the age; and an unbounded luxury and abandoned profligacy were introduced by him among the higher orders in Poland. The morals of the nobility now became nearly as bad as their political constitution. What need have we to dwell on the personal war which Augustus II. commenced against Charles XII. of Sweden; the defeats he sustained; his forced resignation of the crown; the appointment of Stanislaus in his stead; and his own restoration after the battle of Pultawa? The leading point in his history is this: that with him the Russian ascendency in Poland was established. All the rest of Europe was rapidly advancing in culture; the only change in Poland was the predominance of Russia.