All her wit and charm were lost on such a man as the King of Sweden; he obstinately refused to see her. She planned to intercept him when he was taking his usual horse-exercise. Thus meeting him one day in a very narrow lane she alighted as soon as she saw him. The King bowed without a word, turned his horse and rode straight back. So that the only satisfaction the Countess got from her journey was the conviction that she was the only person of whom the King was afraid.
The King of Poland was then obliged to throw himself into the arms of the Senate. He made them two proposals by means of the Count of Mariemburg; either that they should leave him the control of the army, which he would pay two quarters in advance out of his own pocket, or else that they should allow him to bring 12,000 Saxons into Poland. The Cardinal replied as severely as the King of Sweden had done. He told the Count of Mariemburg, in the name of the Assembly, “That they had decided to send an embassy to Charles XII, and that it was not his affair to introduce Saxons.”
In this extremity the King was anxious to preserve at least a semblance of royal authority. He sent one of his chamberlains to Charles to inquire when and how his Swedish Majesty would receive the embassy of the King, his master, and of the State. Unfortunately they had neglected to provide this messenger with a passport; so Charles threw him into prison, with the remark that he was waiting for an embassy from the State, and none from King Augustus.
Then Charles, leaving garrisons behind him in some of the Lithuanian towns, advanced to Grodno, a town famous in Europe for the Diets held there, but ill-built and worse fortified. Some miles away from Grodno he met the embassy sent by the Polish State. Charles XII received them in his tent with some display of military pomp; their proposals were full of evasion and obscurity, they seemed afraid of Charles, and disliked Augustus, but they were ashamed of deposing a king whom they had elected at the order of a foreigner. Nothing was settled, and Charles gave them to understand that he would give them a decision at Warsaw.
His march was preceded by a manifesto which the Cardinal and his party spread over Poland in eight days. By this document Charles invited all the Poles to join him in vengeance, pretending that their interests were the same. They were, as a matter of fact, very different, but the manifesto, seconded by a great party, by disorder in the Senate and by the approach of the conqueror, made a great impression. They were obliged to own Charles for a protector, since it was his will, and it was well for them that he was content with this title. The Senators who were opposed to Augustus advertised the manifesto in his very face, and those who were on his side kept silence. At last when they heard that Charles was advancing by forced marches, they all took panic, and prepared to flee. The Cardinal was one of the first to leave Warsaw, the majority hastened to flee, some to await the issue of affairs on their own estates, some to arm their adherents. With the King there remained only the Imperial and Russian ambassadors, the Pope’s Legate, and some few bishops and counts, who were attached to him. He was forced to flee, and nothing had yet been decided in his favour. Before his departure, he hastened to take counsel with the small number of Senators who remained. But though they were anxious to serve him they were still Poles, and had all got so great an aversion for Saxon troops, that they dare not allow him to bring 6,000 men for his defence, and they further voted that these 6,000 men should be commanded by the Grand Duke of Poland, and immediately sent back after peace had been made. As to the armies of the republic, they put them at his disposal.
After this settlement the King left Warsaw, being too weak to oppose the enemy, and little satisfied with his own party. He at once published his orders for assembling the Pospolite and the armies, which were little more than a name.
There was nothing to be hoped from Lithuania, where the Swedes were posted; while the Polish army, reduced in number, lacked arms, provisions and the will to fight. The majority of the nobles, intimidated, undecided, or disaffected, stayed on their own lands. It was in vain that the King, authorized by law, ordered every noble to appear on horseback under pain of death, and to follow him; they began to argue that they need not obey him. His chief trust was in the troops of the Electorate, where, as the form of government was absolute, he did not fear disobedience. He had already given orders to 2,000 Saxons, who were marching rapidly. He also recalled 8,000, which he had promised to the Emperor for the French war, but which in his difficult position he was forced to withdraw. The introduction of so many Saxons into Poland meant the provocation of general disaffection, and the violation of the law made by his own party, allowing him a force of only 6,000. But he realized that if he were victor they would not dare to complain, while if he were beaten they would never forgive the introduction of 6,000 men. While his soldiers were arriving in groups, and he was passing from county to county collecting the nobles who adhered to him, the King of Sweden at last arrived before Warsaw on the 5th of May, 1702. The gates were opened to him at the first summons; he sent away the Polish garrison, disbanded the militia, set up military posts of his own everywhere, and ordered the inhabitants to disarm; then content with that, and not wishing to exasperate them, he only demanded a tribute of 100,000 livres. King Augustus was at that time assembling his forces at Cracow, and was very surprised to see the Cardinal-Primate among them. This man wished, perhaps, to maintain an external reputation to the last, and to dethrone his King with every mark of outward respect. He gave him to understand that the King of Sweden would grant reasonable terms, and humbly asked permission to go to see the King. King Augustus granted what he was powerless to refuse, and so left him free to do him an injury. The Cardinal hastened immediately to see the King of Sweden, to whom he had not yet ventured to present himself. He met the Prince at Prague, not far from Warsaw, but without the ceremony which had been shown towards the ambassadors of the State.
He found the conqueror clad in a dress of coarse blue cloth with brass buttons, jack-boots, and buffalo-skin gloves reaching to the elbow, in a room without hangings, together with the Duke of Holstein, his brother-in-law, Count Piper, his prime minister, and several officers. The King came forward to meet the Cardinal, and they stood talking for a quarter of an hour, when Charles concluded by saying aloud, “I will never grant the Poles peace till they have elected another king.” The Cardinal, who had expected this, immediately reported it to all the counts, saying that he was most sorry about it, but pointing out the necessity for complying with the conqueror’s wishes.
At this news the King of Poland saw that he must either lose his crown or defend it in battle, and he put forth his best resources for this last contest. All his Saxon forces had arrived from the frontiers of Saxony. The nobility of the Palatinate of Cracow, where he still was, came in a body to offer him their services. He personally exhorted every one of these to remember the oaths they had taken, and they promised him that they would fight to the last drop of their blood in his defence. Fortified by this help, and by the troops called the crown corps, he went for the first time to attack the King of Sweden, and soon found him advancing towards Cracow.
The two Kings met on the 19th of July, 1702, in a large plain near Clissau, between Warsaw and Cracow. Augustus had nearly 20,000 men, and Charles not more than 12,000; the battle began by a discharge of artillery. At the first volley, discharged by the Saxons, the Duke of Holstein, who commanded the Swedish cavalry, a young prince of great courage and valour, received a cannon-shot in his loins. The King asked if he were dead, and when they answered in the affirmative he said nothing, the tears fell from his eyes, and then covering his face with his hands for a moment, he spurred his horse furiously, and rushed into the thick of the fight at the head of his guards.
The King of Poland did all that could be expected of a prince fighting for his crown; he thrice personally led his men in a charge, but the good fortune of Charles carried the day, and he gained a complete victory. The enemy’s camp, artillery and flags, and Augustus’s war-chest were left in his hands.
He did not delay on the field of battle, but marched straight to Cracow, pursuing the King of Poland, who fled before him. The citizens of Cracow were brave enough to shut the gates upon the conqueror. He had them broken open, the garrison did not dare to fire a single shot; they were chased with whips and sticks to the castle, where the King entered with them. One gunner ventured to prepare to fire a cannon; Charles rushed up to him and snatched the match away; he then threw himself at the King’s feet. Three Swedish regiments were lodged at free quarters in the town, and the citizens were taxed by a tribute of 100,000 rixdollars. Count Steinbock, having heard that some treasure had been hidden in the tomb of the Polish kings, in the Church of Saint Nicholas at Cracow, had them opened; they only found gold and silver ornaments belonging to the church; they took some of them and Charles sent a golden chalice to a Swedish church; this would have raised the Polish Catholics against him, if anything could have withstood the terror inspired by his arms. He left Cracow fully resolved to pursue Augustus without intermission, but within a few miles of the city his horse fell and broke his thigh-bone, so that he had to be carried back to Cracow, where he lay in bed in the hands of the surgeons six weeks. This accident gave Augustus breathing space. He had the report immediately spread throughout Poland and Germany that Charles had been killed by his fall. This false report, which was believed for some time, filled all men’s minds with astonishment and uncertainty.
During this slight interval he assembled all the orders of the kingdom to Mariemburg. The meeting was a large one, and few of the Counts refused to send their deputies.
He regained popularity by presents, promises, and the affability which is so necessary to absolute kings to make them popular, and to elective kings as an added support to their power. The Diet was soon undeceived concerning the false report, but the impulse had already been given to that great body, and they allowed themselves to be carried along by the impulse, and all the members swore fidelity to the King.
The Cardinal himself, pretending to be still attached to King Augustus, came to the Diet. He kissed the King’s hand, and did not scruple to take the oath with the rest. The oath implied that they had never attempted, and never would attempt anything against Augustus. The King excused the Cardinal from the first part of the oath, and he blushed as he swore to the rest.
This Diet resolved that the republic of Poland should maintain an army of 50,000 men at their own expense for the service of the State, that they should give the Swedes six weeks to declare for peace or war, and the same time to the Princess Sapieha, the authors of the troubles in Lithuania, to come and beg pardon of the King of Poland.
In the meantime the King of Sweden was cured of his wound, and carried everything before him. Still pursuing his plan of making the Poles dethrone their King themselves, he had, by means of the intrigues of the Cardinal, a new assembly called at Warsaw, to oppose that of Lubin. His generals pointed out to him that the affair might still be protracted and might at last prove abortive, that during this time the Russians were daily attacking the troops he had left behind in Livonia and Ingria, that the Swedes were not invariably successful, and that his presence there would in all probability shortly be necessary. Charles, who was as dogged in the carrying out of his plans as he was brisk in his action, answered, “Should I stay here fifty years, I would not leave the place till I have dethroned the King of Poland.”
He left the Assembly of Warsaw to dispute with that of Lubin in debates and writings, and to seek precedents to justify their proceedings in the laws of kingdoms, laws which are always equivocable, and interpreted by each party at will.
For himself, having increased his victorious troops by 6,000 cavalry and 8,000 infantry, he marched against the rest of the Saxon army he had beaten at Clissau, and which had time to rally and recruit while he had been kept in bed by his fall.
This army avoided him and withdrew towards Brussels on the north-west of Warsaw. The river Bug lay between him and the enemy. Charles swam across at the head of his horse, while the infantry sought a ford higher up.
On May 1, 1703, he came upon the Saxons at a place called Pultask. They were commanded by General Stenau and were about 10,000 in number. The King of Sweden in his precipitate march had not brought more with him, being sure that fewer would have sufficed. The fear of his arms was so great that one half of the army ran away at his approach.
General Stenau held his ground for a few minutes with two regiments; but the moment after he was drawn into the general retreat of his army, which was dispersed before it was beaten. The Swedes did not make 1,000 prisoners, nor were there 600 killed; they had more difficulty in pursuing than in defeating them.
Augustus, who had nothing left but the scattered remnants of the Saxons who had been beaten on all sides, hastily withdrew to Thorn, a town in the kingdom of Prussia, on the Vistula, and under Polish protection. Charles at once prepared to besiege it. The King of Poland, realizing his danger, withdrew to Saxony, but Charles, in spite of brisk marches, swimming across rivers, hurrying along with his infantry, and riding behind his cavalry, was not able to bring his cannon up to Thorn; he was obliged to wait till it was sent him from Sweden by sea.
In the meantime, he took up a position within some miles of the town, and would often advance too near the ramparts to reconnoitre; the plain coat that he always wore was of greater service to him than he had ever expected on these dangerous walks; it protected him from being marked out by the enemy for a shot. One day, when he had gone very near with one of his generals, called Lieven, who was dressed in blue trimmed with gold, he feared that he would be seen. With the magnanimity which was natural to him, which prevented him from remembering that he was exposing his own life for a subject, he told Lieven to walk behind him. Lieven, realizing too late the mistake he had made in putting on a noticeable uniform which brought those near him also into risk, and being equally afraid for the King’s safety in whatever place he was, hesitated as to whether he ought to obey him. While he was debating with himself for a second, the King took him by the arm, and screened him: at that very instant a discharge of cannon took them in the flank, and struck the general dead on the very spot which the King had just left. The death of this man, killed directly in his stead, and because he was trying to save him, confirmed him in the opinion he had always had about predestination, and made him believe that his fate which had saved him under such extraordinary circumstances was reserving him for the execution of great designs.
All his schemes succeeded, and he was equally fortunate in negotiations and in war; his influence was felt throughout the whole of Poland, for his Grand Marshal Renschild was in the heart of those dominions with a large section of the army. Nearly 30,000 generals, scattered through the north and east on the Russian frontier, withstood the efforts of the whole Russian Empire; and Charles was in the west, at the other end of Poland, at the head of picked troops.
The King of Denmark, tied down by the treaty of Travendal, which he was too weak to break, remained quiet. He was prudently afraid of showing his vexation at seeing the King of Sweden so near his estates. Further, towards the south-west, between the Elbe and Weser, lay the Duchy of Bremen, the last territory formerly acquired by the Swedes, filled with strong garrisons, and opening the way for the conqueror to Saxony and the Empire. Thus from the German Ocean almost to the Gulf of Borysthenes, that is, across the whole breadth of Europe, and up to the gates of Moscow, all was in consternation, and a general revolution was imminent. His vessels were masters of the Baltic, and employed in transporting prisoners from Poland into his own country. Sweden alone, at peace during these great doings, was rejoicing in deep peace, and in the glory of her King, for which she did not have to pay the price, for his victorious troops were maintained at the expense of the conquered.
During this general peace of the North before the arms of Charles XII, the town of Dantzig ventured to offend him. Fourteen frigates and forty transports were bringing the King reinforcements of 6,000 men, with cannon and ammunition to finish the siege of Thorn. These had to pass up the Vistula; at the mouth of that river lies the rich town of Dantzig, a free town, enjoying the same privileges in Poland as the Imperial towns have in Germany. Its liberty had been alternately attacked by the Danes, Swedes, and some German princes, and was only saved by the mutual jealousy of these Powers. Count Steinbock, one of the Swedish generals, assembled the magistrates in the name of the King, and demanded a passage and ammunition for his troops. The magistrates, showing an unusual rashness in those treating with their superior, dare neither absolutely refuse nor yet exactly grant what he demanded. The general compelled them to give him more than he had asked; and even exacted from the town a contribution of 100,000 crowns to make up for their rash denial.
At last the recruits, the cannon and the ammunition having arrived before Thorn, the siege was begun on the 22nd of September. Robel, governor of the place, defended it for a month with a garrison of 5,000 men, and then it was forced to surrender at discretion. Robel was presented unarmed to the King. His Majesty never missed a chance of honouring merit in a foe, and gave him a sword with his own hand, together with a considerable present of money, and sent him away on parole. But the town, which was small and poor, was condemned to pay 40,000 crowns, an excessive sum for it.
Elbing, standing on an arm of the Vistula, was founded by the Teutonic Knights, and had been annexed to Poland. It did not take advantage of the mistake of the Dantzig townsfolk, hesitated too long about giving passage to the Swedes, and was more severely punished than Dantzig.
Charles entered it in person on the 13th of December, at the head of 4,000 men armed with bayonets. The inhabitants, in terror, threw themselves upon their knees in the streets, and begged for mercy. He disarmed them, quartered his troops in their houses, and then summoning the chief magistrate he demanded a sum of 260,000 crowns, to be handed over that very day. He seized the 200 pieces of cannon, and the 400,000 charges of powder, which were in the town; a victory gained would not have brought him so many advantages. All these successes were the precursors to the dethroning of King Augustus.
The Cardinal had scarcely taken the oath of fealty to his King when he repaired to the assembly at Warsaw, still under pretence of making peace. He talked of nothing but peace and obedience, but was attended by 3,000 soldiers raised on his own estate. At last he threw off the mask, and declared in the name of the Assembly that “Augustus, Elector of Saxony, was incapable of wearing the crown of Poland.” They then unanimously pronounced the throne vacant.
The intention of the King of Sweden, and so necessarily of this Diet, was to give the throne to the Prince Jacques Sobieski, whose father Jean had possessed it.
Jacques Sobieski was then at Breslau, in Silesia, impatiently waiting for the crown which his father had worn.
One day he was hunting some miles from Breslau, with Prince Constantine, one of his brothers, when thirty Saxon cavaliers, sent secretly by King Augustus, suddenly rushed from a neighbouring wood, surrounded the two princes, and carried them off without resistance. Relays of horses were ready a little distance off, on which they were at once taken to Leipzig, and closely guarded.
This step upset the plans of Charles, the Cardinal and the Assembly of Warsaw.
Fortune, which sports with crowned heads, almost brought the King of Poland to the point of being taken himself. He was at table, three miles from Cracow, relying on an advanced guard, posted at a distance, when General Renschild appeared suddenly, after having surprised this guard. The King of Poland had only time to mount with eleven others. The general pursued him for eight days, expecting to seize him at any moment. The King had almost reached Sendomir; the Swedish general was still in pursuit, and it was only through extraordinary good luck that the Prince escaped.
In the meantime the King’s party and that of the Cardinal were calling each other traitors to their country.
The army of the Crown was divided into two factions. Augustus, forced at last to accept help from the Russians, regretted that he had not applied to them sooner; he hurried alternately into Saxony, where his resources were at an end, and into Poland where they dare not help him. On the other hand, the King of Sweden was ruling calmly and successfully in Poland. Count Piper, who was as great a politician as his master was a hero, seized the opportunity to advise Charles to take the crown of Poland for himself; he pointed out to him how easily he could carry out the scheme with a victorious army and a powerful party in the heart of a kingdom which he had already subdued; he tempted him by the title of Defender of the Reformed Faith, a name which flattered Charles’s ambition. He could, he said, easily play (in Poland) the part which Gustavus Vasa had played in Sweden, and introduce Lutheranism, and break the tyranny of the nobility and the clergy over the people. Charles was tempted for a moment; but glory was his idol; he sacrificed to it both his interests and the pleasure he would have had in taking Poland from the Pope. He told Count Piper that he would rather give away kingdoms than gain them, and added smiling, “You were born to be the minister of an Italian prince.”
Charles was still near Thorn, in that part of the kingdom of Prussia which belongs to Poland; from there he had an eye on what was going on at Warsaw, and kept his powerful neighbours in awe. Prince Alexander, brother of the two Sobieskis, who had been carried off to Silesia, came to ask vengeance of him. The King was all the more ready to grant it, because he thought it easy, and that he would gain his own vengeance too. But as he was eager to give Poland a king, he proposed that Prince Alexander should take the crown, which fortune seemed bent on denying to his brother. He did not in the least expect a refusal, but Prince Alexander told him that nothing would ever persuade him to take advantage of his elder brother’s misfortune. The King of Sweden, Count Piper, all his friends, and especially the young Palatine of Posnania, Stanislas Leczinski, pressed him to accept. But he was decided. The neighbouring princes were astonished at the news, and did not know which to admire most—a king who at the age of twenty-two gave away the crown of Poland, or Prince Alexander who refused it.