Burning Homes: The Polish Partition
The partition of Poland was a boon for Prussia and Russia, but for the Polish nobility—the Szlachta—it was a fire. A great conflagration, truly.
"Our... country... is gone?"
They had come on crusade for Ottoman tribute lands, slaves, privileges, and honor, only to return and find their nation vanished. In an instant, these Polish volunteers plummeted from crusaders to mere mercenaries.
"For now, keep this between us."
The nobles commanding battalions now reorganized as fiefdom troops concealed the truth. A vanished nation meant vanished fiefdoms—and vanished fiefdoms meant no more sources of income.
"If the troops find out, we're finished."
Even volunteers needed pay, and as mercenaries now, that need was even more acute.
"Whatever the case, we pull out of the battlefield as fast as possible."
The former Szlachta, now mercenary captains, began hesitating before Constantinople.
"We can't breach the layered fortresses of the Bosporus or the massive Theodosian Walls. No matter our numbers, the north is blocked by the Belgrade Forest, the south by the Büjükmece Lake—or Athyras Lake as it's known—choking the approaches and limiting our firepower."
And as if by prior agreement, they dispatched messengers to Crusade headquarters en masse: "Further assaults are impossible."
"Is the attack really that unfeasible?"
"All frontline commanders report the same. It seems we must abandon the liberation of Constantinople due to the terrain."
In a normal war, they would seek alternatives like naval bombardment or amphibious landings. But this was no ordinary war.
"Anatolia Peninsula is enough. Taking Constantinople was never in the plan anyway."
From the outset, it had been a war to unify Austria internally. The main force—Austria's army—had always been skeptical of the Papal goal of reclaiming Jerusalem. The Papacy tried pressuring Austria with propaganda about Catholic aspirations as they withdrew, but to no avail. Austria saw no reason to fight on, and field commanders were desperate to disengage.
Pope Pius VI had no choice but to end the Tenth Crusade with only the "liberation of the Balkans" as its legacy.
"Local security is Austria's problem. We're just volunteers."
The moment the war ended, the former Szlachta handed all claims and territories to Austria and turned back toward Poland.
"What? Only 500?"
But their fiefdoms had long since become Prussian territory.
"Still, with our experience, it's possible. Prepare for siege!"
"Milord... er, Captain. We have no cannons."
The Szlachta tried preparing a siege to reclaim their lands anyway, but numerical inferiority, lack of artillery, and plummeting morale upon learning of the invasion doomed them to shatter.
"Why follow a captain who's no longer a count?"
"Exactly."
The 400–500 battalion members deserted at night or faked death in combat by day, abandoning their Szlachta leaders.
"These 30 diehards are solid. We'll stand by milord to the end and reclaim our lost homeland!"
Battalions shrank to companies, companies to platoons. In the end, the former Szlachta sifted out 20–30 loyalists.
"No choice but to head to Austria."
Judging platoons too small for reclamation, they used their shrunken forces' mobility to slip through forests and mountains into Austria.
"But why Austria?"
"Figured something might turn up there."
It wasn't some calculated masterstroke. With vague hopes that a nation flush with 240 million francs could offer opportunities, that's where they went.
"We preserve our options. Even as stateless mercenaries now, one day with funds, arms, and influence, we'll reclaim our lands."
Defeated, they became Austrian mercenaries. Crusaders turned ruined nobles, then Austrian hires. Such pitiable fates were far from rare.
"Oscar. You a mercenary now too?"
"Just a step back to advance three later."
"Same here."
Former volunteer Crusade officers gathered in Vienna.
"At least there's work. That's a plus."
To survive, they took commissions like any common sellsword.
"Montenegro? Where's that?"
"Oh, that place? I know it from the siege. High pay means high risk. Steel yourself."
With the Crusade over, most mercenary work was securing Crusade-held territories.
"Should've demanded land. Even as occupation lords, we could've played the part."
"You think no one tried? The moment partition news hit, the Austrians cut us out of fief reallocations. Didn't you hear?"
"Life's a drag."
Austria slashed occupation costs dramatically by exploiting the former Szlachta.
"Tax farming's not half bad."
Ruined or not, they had been lords. For small fiefdoms, their administrative skills were impeccable.
"Feels like we're earning more than as lords."
Above all, they were masters of exploitation. Thus, Austria's southern conquests stabilized.
"They scare us plenty, but the pay makes up for it. Bow your heads, lads! The Montenegro sheriff's here!"
"Sheriff? Taxman? Whatever. Boys, looting time!"
Exceptions existed, of course. A few fiefdoms clung to late-medieval customs, but no major issues arose.
"Predecessors struggled in Montenegro? Amateurs. Won't happen to me."
Mercenaries who quit passed jobs to others.
"Chop off a taxman's head? Arm your heavies for collections."
"No coin? Levy in goods."
"No goods? Take labor."
"Hate taxes? Make examples."
As ever, people found ways. They began exploiting occupations with ingenious schemes.
"Occupations are stable now. Easier than lording it. Maybe expand the mercenaries, claim this as our turf..."
Rumors spread far and wide, drawing ambitious contacts.
"Pardon. Oscar, yes?"
"That's me."
"Fancy a revolution?"
Mostly Hungarian separatists and the like.
"Our revolutionary government has the people's will but no arms. Would you provide the muscle?"
They aimed to escape the sinking Habsburg ship by sparking popular uprisings. But Austria, citing the recent Crusade, had absorbed most troops into the central army. Separatist nobles had only mercenaries to muster.
"A clean deal: 100 francs per man per day until Habsburg falls. Triple pay if done in 14 days, double in a month. Thoughts?"
They had no choice but to hire mercenaries for the revolution.
"Revolution, eh. Risky, but pay's guaranteed. And..."
"And?"
"Never mind."
The former Szlachta accepted eagerly. Survival had made them Austrian mercenaries, but their roots were Polish nobility. They harbored no love for Austria, which had nibbled Galicia and Polish lands in the 1772 partition.
"We too despise the inept Habsburgs."
"Good."
Not as hated as Prussia or Russia, but as partition participants, revenge was sweet when possible.
"No Habsburgs means Austrian republic, right? Sheriffs there wouldn't be serving the enemy."
To assuage inner guilt, they resolved to topple Austria.
"Commence sabotage."
Mercenaries formed sabotage teams, infiltrating Austria proper. Posing as occupation sheriffs in Vienna, they spied for revolutionaries: torching army granaries, crumbling walls, salting gate hinges for easy collapse.
"Oh, new commission!"
The Austrian government, unaware, bolstered guards against such sabotage—with mercenaries.
"Be subtle! Hammering walls makes noise! Useless at banditry too, huh? Pry out a brick or two with a lever—far more natural, less detectable. Step aside. Let me."
Guards on key facilities linked with spies for overt sabotage.
"That's enough. Any more and the wall collapses."
Oblivious, the government took "all clear" reports and breathed easy.