Category Archives: Germany

First Flight, September 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle p. 95:

Seemann flew first, and then I. I was in the air for about 15 minutes, namely at an altitude of 400 to 500 metres, and it was simply wonderful. You don’t notice the ascent. You suddenly see everything deep down below without any jolts, and the landscape very slowly glides away beneath you. The forests, villages, and the many castles surrounded by moats look delightful, and the roads stand out sharply — a very indescribable, beautiful sight — no trace of dizziness. You feel completely safe and travel much more smoothly than in the best car. The only unpleasant moment is when the engine is turned off for gliding. You thereby have the feeling as though you are plummeting down forwards. The ground literally flies towards you, and you are suddenly rolling on the ground again. I am very happy that I was able to experience this. I would prefer to fly every day. You thus understand why everyone is rushing to go to the aeroplanes.

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Gas and Horse Training, August 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle p. 89:

We were on exercise with an infantry platoon from 7 o’clock to half past 10 yesterday morning. Two sections have been formed, and I am in the one belonging to Baron von Wangenheim, a captain of the guards who seems to be very nice. In the afternoon, we shot at discs by the large mine rubble heap at Carvin. The pioneers have their training ground next door, where the people are trained in constructing trenches, shelters, and obstacles; and in destroying and overcoming the latter. We were shown a very interesting attack using smoke and gas bombs. The first produces a white, opaque fog so that the enemy is unable to see a target. The gas bombs, on the other hand, spread an invisible gas that affects the respiratory system and especially the eyes. The effect was extremely unpleasant despite only a weak filling being used. At the spot where such a bomb had exploded 5 minutes ago, we all had to cough violently even with the very strong wind, and our eyes were watering so much that we could hardly see anything.

Then came the main fun — the riding lesson. Only very few can ride properly. A lot have only ridden on some horse in their spare time, and many, including me, have never sat on top of one. The more advanced are having lessons with an Uhlan riding master, and the rest of us with a patrolman. We walked and trotted around in circles for an hour, and this also went very well and without falling off since we received the most patient Uhlan horses. Only the sitting region hurts terribly today. We had the same usual exercises again this morning, then an hour of lessons this afternoon, and now it’s back to riding. We are all supposed to exercise an entire company on horseback tomorrow. How I am supposed to do this after just two riding lessons is a complete mystery to me. In any case, it will be great entertainment for the public. Our captain has already offered to write us holiday tickets to Ostend for next Sunday. I will be going there with Baumbach, of course. We also want to visit Bruges and Ghent if possible.

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Enduring a Cannonade, May 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 70-71:

Suddenly, at 6 o’clock sharp, a great cannonade starts to our right — the guns boom continuously — the individual explosions can no longer be distinguished. The main shooting is far away from us in the north, but the 16th is also being lit up badly. It looks wonderful how it tremors over there by the heap of bricks. There are round clouds of shrapnel hanging everywhere, and thick black and yellow-green clouds rise from the shells down on the ground. Rifles and machine guns fire at the same time — three aircraft buzz in the air. It was a hell of a racket. But things were about to get better because suddenly we too were under fire. One by one, the shells crash into our trench which is soon filled in in many places. Quantities of sharp shell fragments lie around everywhere. I have everyone but the most essential guards crawl into the shelters, and like so, we endure the bombardment for three hours. To set an example, I am now and then forced to walk along the entire trench with a calm step and an outwardly indifferent expression, whistling a song, so that people cannot say that the officers had slipped away. We remarkably didn’t have one wounded person although at least 100 shells fell into my company section alone. On the contrary, the neighbouring company is said to have three dead and several wounded.

It is now half past 3 and we are not being shot at anymore, but it is still continuing uninterrupted in the north. We are informed that the English attacked again at Neuve Chapelle with great superior numbers, but were repelled. We were probably only lit up like this so that we would believe that we too were being attacked and, in this way, to prevent us from moving our reserves north. I have got a real headache from the hours of banging and roaring. Hopefully, this shooting doesn’t put a damper on our plans, as we actually have to be relieved this evening.

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Trench Life, Easter 1915

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 63-64:

The trenches are flawlessly constructed. Every rifleman has a small niche of his own with steps leading up to it. Everything is reinforced with sandbags, and everyone stands behind a defensive shield of steel. Most people have tent canvases stretched over them so that they stand dry. Small boxes for bullet cartridges are built into the niche walls, and there are also waterproof boxes with hand grenades scattered throughout the trench. There are even special depots for trenchwork tools, ammunition and so on. Nice and deep shelters are plentiful. As a platoon leader, I have one for me and my orderly. Inside are two sleeping spots on top of each other like in a ship’s cabin. I even have a mattress. Of course, there is a table, wicker chair, oven, wall shelf, coat hangers, and pictures. To heat, we use hard coal which we can conveniently get from the nearest mine. Opposite us lies the French Landwehr. Only single shots are fired during the day, whereas it gets somewhat livelier at night. We are also graced with a few shells from time to time, but they haven’t caused any damage so far.

The weather was nice all day and night on the first day of the holidays, but it has been raining heavily since the morning of the second day. It is now rather filthy in the trenches as a result. We should have been replaced at 9 o’clock in the evening, but it was 1 o’clock in the night when the first replacement arrived. I then led the way through the communication trench all alone and didn’t get lost despite the many diversions. The mud reached high above the ankles, but this was an outright stroll compared to the past. The trench at Richebourg would have been impassable after such tremendous rain. The carriage I had ordered over the phone was waiting for me in Auchy, and I arrived in Billy at half past 2 in the morning where I quickly made a ration (sausage with kraut) on the spirit stove. I was suddenly woken up during the deepest sleep at half past 5 in the morning — highest alert. I thus got out of bed, got dressed, packed my suitcase and loaded the wagon. Just when I was finished, it was said that everyone could lie back down because it was just a practice alarm for the entire division. I then slept the whole day in return.

There was a strong storm with rain last night. Things will look lovely in the trenches tonight. I had some duties today — rifle inspection and instructing the oberjägers. I am going back to the Front for a couple of days again this evening. Captain Beutin is now the commander of the entire combat sector, and I am the company commander during this time. This means that I no longer have to do guard duty, but there is a lot of written and telephone work.

We eat together in peace in the mess hall here, which is set up inside the manor. The price is surprisingly cheap for the good food and drink; only 30 to 40 Mark a month. Extra drinks are of course charged separately. Food and drink are also delivered forward from the mess to the trench. Our electricians have laid wires throughout the entire place so that we have electric lights everywhere. A cable has also just been laid towards the front so that we will have electricity in the shelters in the near future too. We have built shelters at the front that are four metres underground. I feel significantly more comfortable again since being back here. It is a completely different life here than in the boring hospital.

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Trench Warfare, December 1914

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 33-34:

We finally arrive at the Front safe and sound except for a few lightly wounded people, where the company commander of the 2nd Company, Prince Lippe, welcomes us with a sigh of relief. There is indescribable confusion here. It is still dark, and no one really knows what has happened and who is friend or foe, because the English, who harass us so much anyway, have put on the shakos of our dead jägers and are therefore not so easy to recognise as enemies in the semi-dark. Patrols are consequently sent forward from the communication trenches, where we finally discover that the English had not been so fortunate with their raid as they had hoped. Only half of the foremost trench ahead of the 2nd Company is in their possession — two machine guns too, unfortunately — an entire platoon is also missing. Anyone who didn’t fall was captured.

We can see the English working feverishly from just 30 metres away. With the sandbags they had brought with them, they quickly built shooting slits facing us, and now the most beautiful shootout is already in progress. It is no child’s play given the short distance. I repeatedly urge my men to be extremely careful. I just call a volunteer standing two steps next to me who holds his head out for too long after the shot. At that moment, his head jolts, the familiar and terrible dull sound of the bullet’s impact sounds, and the man slowly collapses. The bullet penetrated the forehead and tore off half the skullcap behind. Still mid-fall, he claws his hands into the wound and smears himself over and over with his own brain. It was a terrible sight. I have seen this wound in particular very often though, because in the trenches there are almost only headshots which have an explosive effect at such a short distance.

Recapturing the trench with an assault does not seem advisable considering the expected large losses. We therefore decide to advance into the communication trenches with hand grenades to try and get the English out this way. But first, the pioneers (engineers) are to work on them with mortars. However, most of the day passes when everything is ready, and the mortars first begin their task late in the afternoon. These are small mortars that hurl powerful explosive charges fitted with fuses through the air at short distances. We soon see the mortar shells swaying in the air. The explosion occurs shortly afterwards with an incredible bang — clouds of black smoke rise as high as a house. The English fire at us in the same way, only their mortars are a lot smaller and not as effective as ours. Besides this, they were poorly aimed on this day.

Our grenade throwers now also advance — Two pioneers in the trench ahead continue to throw hand grenades in front of them. As soon as one explodes, they immediately jump forward into the smoke and throw the next one. A platoon of jägers follows afterwards with fixed bayonets. The rest of us subject the enemy to heavy rifle and machine-gun fire in the meantime. The attacking column occasionally holds up a hat on a stick so that we know how far they have pushed ahead. We then adjust our fire accordingly. We slowly advance this way, and we gain back half of the lost positions in the evening. We of course spend the night in tense vigilance, as it is not impossible for us to be attacked again. Everything stays calm though, and we begin cleaning up the trench as soon as it gets light. This kind of approach must have become a bit scary for the English, as we regained our old positions in a very short time and without any casualties.

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German Officer’s Kit, 1914

From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle p. 15:

Yesterday evening gave me a big surprise. 11 large sacks of post had arrived, including a number of parcels and letters for me which had only been in transit for seven days. It is always a joyous celebration when the post arrives. I am well-equipped, and I have plenty of clothes. The excessive amounts cannot be carried, and I have just seen my suitcase here for the first time again in eight days. The processing of promotions is very slow. The officer-deputy, Totzek, was promoted to officer at the beginning of September, and the recognition from the Kaiser has still not arrived today. It will not take long for me to get the Iron Cross, as my actions at Notre Dame de Lorette made a great impression. I should have it in four weeks’ time at most if I don’t get wounded in the near future. All the officers now have it with the exception of Prince Reuss, who came to the battalion with me.

When we march, I carry on my knapsack that I named Badger — a coat, a canvas and cooking tools. Inside as reserve: 1 spare shirt, 1 pair of underwear, 6 pairs of socks, 1 woolly undercoat, 1 cummerbund, wristlets, pulse warmers, 1 towel, felt shoes, a field cap, washing and shaving stuff, a map with writing tools and tinned rations consisting of 2 double portions. Also, 3 small tin cans with cocoa and one with salt; often even vegetables and 1 bottle of red wine too. Hanging on my belt: Sabre, pistol, ammunition bag with bullets, cigarettes, mints, sugar cubes and matches. My bread bag holds letters, a first aid kit, cutlery; and a load of small things like bread and bacon and so on. I also have a field flask, a cup, mittens, and binoculars around my neck. The burden is therefore quite large. I also have a load of spare clothes and one pair of laced shoes in my suitcase. Our orderlies wash all our clothes on our rest days. We live wonderfully and happily here in Arleux, but we always have to be ready to leave within 10 minutes.

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Pilots Transit to Poland, 1919

From Kosciuszko, We Are Here!: American Pilots of the Kosciuszko Squadron in Defense of Poland, 1919-1921, by Janusz Cisek (McFarland, 2025), Kindle Loc. 839ff.

After the contracts had been signed, preparations were made for departure to Warsaw. It was predicted that the American pilots would depart in the middle of September 1919. The matter of choosing a route was simplified somewhat by the fact that there was to some extent a rail route already in existence, which went through Germany. From April to July 1919 several tens of thousands of soldiers of Haller’s Army had been transported by this route. However, there was always the possibility of obstruction by the defeated Germans, and transports of special significance became the subject of negotiations and petty decisions. The first period after the cease-fire in November 1918 was the most difficult. As the result of strong German opposition, many transports from Central Europe to France had to pass through Austria, Switzerland and Italy. But this route was too lengthy and went through too many borders, and the Allies stressed the opening of a shorter route. The airmen were not traveling with any military equipment, and they were traveling incognito. This was important since at that time Poland and Germany were in a state of undeclared conflict. The most inflammatory issues in this situation were the anti–German uprising in Silesia, the problem of Gdańsk’s (Danzig’s) future, and the remaining disputed territories where the plebiscites were to be held. Therefore, the Germans could not look favorably on any strengthening of the Polish Army, especially by highly qualified airmen of the American and British Armed Forces. It must be remembered that a substantial group of Allied officers served in the Allied Commission for Upper Silesia, established in August 1919 by the Supreme Command of the Allied Forces. The U.S. army delegate there was Colonel Goodyear. The Commission’s task was to observe the situation in Silesia and prepare conditions for the transfer and assignment of these territories by the Allied Forces. In the first version of the plan to use the America airmen, as we remember, the military authorities in Warsaw had planned to direct them to Silesia, just as Paderewski had.

Taking into consideration all the events mentioned above, the airmen’s trip was carefully camouflaged. Firstly, they were equipped with uniforms of General Haller’s Army, but en route between Paris and Warsaw they could not even wear those uniforms. To avoid unnecessary publicity, Col. Howland recommended that they wear substitute uniforms. Since one of the conditions of the contract stipulated that the volunteers cover the cost of their journey to Poland, they joined up with a Red Cross transport and in Coblenz they joined an “American Typhus Relief” train going to Poland.

Just before their departure, there was a parting of both the Polish military authorities in Paris and of Paderewski. It was a rather warm occasion, which lasted two hours in the Hotel Ritz, where Ignacy Paderewski had his headquarters. Apart from being Prime Minister, Paderewski was also a delegate at the Peace Conference in Paris. After Fauntleroy presented the squadron, Paderewski was supposed to have said, “Nothing has ever touched me so much as the offer of you young men to fight and, if necessary to die for my country.” The next ceremony in honor of the airmen was organized by one of the most fervent promoters of the whole venture, Gen. Tadeusz Rozwadowski, and attended by the newly appointed Polish Minister to the United States, Prince Casimir Lubomirski, Col. Howland, and Gen. Ewing. D. Booth, AEF Chief of Staff. The presence of the latter needs a little explanation. It seems to confirm that, independently of Gen. Howland’s role, the higher AEF authorities also recognized the nature of the expedition and were not opposed to it. The Ukrainian historian R.G. Simonenko said that the presence of Gen. Booth confirmed that the volunteers were an element of international intervention against Russian Bolshevism. The aims of the airmen reached far further than the occupation of Kiev. According to Simonenko, they aimed to march on Moscow.

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Defending a New Poland, 1919-1921

From Kosciuszko, We Are Here!: American Pilots of the Kosciuszko Squadron in Defense of Poland, 1919-1921, by Janusz Cisek (McFarland, 2025), Kindle Loc. 67ff.

The presence of American airmen in the Polish army was preceded by a series of efforts between the individual enlistment of officers, soldiers and citizens of the United States and the drafting of a separate American legion to fight in Poland. Endeavors in this field lasted as long as the Polish–Bolshevik war itself. Their one tangible result was the establishment of the Kościuszko Squadron, a military unit unique in being the sole representative of the Western Hemisphere in this war, since in 1920 the only regular military forces helping Poland were the army of the Ukrainian People’s Republic under Ataman Semen Petlura and a small Belorussian Army under the command of General Stanisław Bułak Bałachowicz. Unlike the American volunteers, both of these formations fought primarily for the independence of their own nations.

The efforts of representatives of the Polish Republic were based on a variety of factors. The main one was the threat of German and Russian revolution and the continuation of the war in Eastern Europe. When Poland regained her independence in 1918, her borders were not yet defined. Her administration was based mainly on the dedication of civil servants of Polish descent, who remained on their jobs after the fall of the three occupying powers, Germany, Russia and Austria-Hungary. The Army comprised barely a few tens of thousands of veterans of the Polish Military Organization, the Polish Legions, and officers and soldiers who gradually flowed in from the armies of the partitioning powers. After four years of war, during which enemy armies plundered everything that could be of any use, there was nothing left in Poland. The infrastructure of roads, railways, bridges, water-supply systems and power-plants was almost completely destroyed. One must remember that the front rolled through some areas several times.

Józef Piłsudski, Commander-in-Chief and Head of the Polish State, and the entire nation faced an enormous challenge. Confronted by shortages, many Polish politicians turned towards the West. It was not only about delivering aid to a suffering population. It was also of primary importance to repel the Bolshevik armies approaching from the east and to prevent the communist revolution in Russia from uniting with the German “Spartakus” movement. However, the young Polish state did not possess enough military might.

Thus Pilsudski’s attention concentrated on bringing to Poland the 80,000 strong army of General Józef Haller, which included a significant number of Polish residents of the United States and which was still stationed in France after November 1918. In fact, it remained there until April 1919, and became the pivot of many plans both political and military within the Polish National Committee, and also in French, British, and American circles. Haller’s Army was officially chartered in France by a decree of the French president on June 4, 1917. Following insistent appeals by the famous pianist Ignacy Jan Paderewski to President Woodrow Wilson, permission was given also to recruit Poles living in America. Up until the end of the war, 24,260 American Poles served in the army’s ranks. The rest were recruited from prisoners of war, Poles living in western Europe, and Polish volunteers from other countries. That superbly trained and equipped army was no mere bagatelle in November 1918, when Poland reappeared on the European map. For both the Americans and the Poles, it had already set a precedent—as reborn Poland’s first army recruited from beyond her national territory and as the first American contingent to fight beyond its own national boundries in the sole interests of a foreign state.

The hope given by the existence of this precedent was rekindled when some of the hundreds of thousands of demobilized soldiers and officers of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF), who were mainly based in France, indicated their readiness to serve, even under a foreign flag. It did not only affect Poland.

Among the important factors, it is also worth mentioning that as a consequence of the partitions, a significant group of Polish officers served in the armies of other states, which obviously influenced organization of the Polish army after over a century of occupation. In November and December 1918, the cadre of officers, at first derived from the Polish Legions of Józef Piłsudski, began to fill with Poles who, lacking other opportunities, had trained and become officers in the Austro-Hungarian, Russian, or to a lesser extent German armies. One can assume that in the Polish Army there was a conducive atmosphere for the transfer of officers and soldiers from other armies. We already mentioned here the consistent threat to the Republic, prevalent from the very beginning of its independent existence. Polish politicians and the military thought that a foreign military contingent would have a restraining influence on the appetites of both her large and small neighbors. On the assumptions made above, Ignacy Jan Paderewski, a few days after the signing of the armistice in November 1918, asked the American Secretary of War Newton D. Baker for permission to discharge all soldiers and officers of Polish extraction from the American Army to enable them to serve in the Polish Army. According to various estimates—independently of Haller’s army, which was not a part of the American Armed Forces—there were approximately 200,000–230,000 officers and soldiers “of Polish extraction” who were serving under the Star Spangled Banner. It needs to be stressed that in the aforementioned appeal to Baker, Paderewski was only concerned with Polish “resident aliens,” excluding American citizens. Baker, who had been considered a friend to Poland, refused, fearing that the officers and soldiers would serve a nationalistic cause, which he suspected Poland of propagating. This argument managed to convince Wilson, thanks to which the project failed.

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Rebuilding a Polish Nation in Galicia

From Poland: The First Thousand Years, by Patrice M. Dabrowski (Cornell University Press, 2014), Kindle pp. 504-507:

Unlike the Hohenzollerns of Prussia/Germany or the Romanovs of Russia, the Habsburgs were Roman Catholic monarchs—and this is an important distinction. Furthermore, Habsburg piety was proverbial. All this meant that there should have been more common ground between the Poles and Austrians. At the same time, the Habsburgs had historically been the rulers of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation (defunct as of 1806) and thus had a special relationship to the Germans of the rest of Europe.

As in all the partitions, the treatment of the new subjects was uneven. In the beginning, the Austrian authorities sought to civilize what they considered to be a backward land. Later, under the oppressive influence of Metternich, they sought to constrain what they thought was a revolutionary people—as witnessed in the debacle of the peasant jacquerie of 1846. (The incorporation of the Free City of Kraków into Galicia set the relatively thriving medieval capital of Poland back decades.) Metternich had seen fit to equate Polonism with revolution. Doubtless the new ruler of the Austrian Empire, Franz Joseph, felt similarly.

Only after a period of absolutism and Germanization did the tone change. This was brought about by several Austrian military defeats. The loss to the French in 1859 led to reforms at home that ultimately resulted in constitutional rule in Austria as of the early 1860s. Notably for the Poles, they were allotted their own provincial Seym as early as 1861.

The defeat of Austria by Prussia in 1866 was even more significant. The defeat forced the Habsburgs to reach a new modus vivendi with the Hungarians, who had been chafing under Habsburg rule particularly since the end of their failed revolution of 1848–1849. In 1867, the two parties reached the famous compromise that led to the establishment of the Dual Monarchy. Henceforth, the country would be known as Austria-Hungary.

That the Habsburgs had been compelled to make concessions to one of their subject peoples was a fact not lost on the Poles. Already the failure of the January Insurrection under Russian rule led some important Galicians to reconsider their approach to the Habsburg monarchy. A new and influential group known as the Kraków Conservatives resolved to be loyal to the Habsburgs. Although initially skeptical, after several years the Polish elites of Galicia were won over to this idea. Even the defeat of Austria at the hands of Prussia did not shake their belief in the monarchy.

These developments led to a third, and most fruitful, phase for the Galician Poles. Unlike the disgruntled Czechs of Bohemia, Poles decided to participate in the Reichsrat or imperial council, a two-chambered parliament in Vienna. Polish elites sought to recast Galicia as a conciliatory, conservative, loyal province. All this boded well for the position of Poles within the Habsburg Empire. Indeed, during the Dual Monarchy, a number of Poles actually came to hold important posts in the imperial government, including that of prime minister.

Given a degree of autonomy, Galicia became a haven for the Poles—a place where Poles could be Poles while still being loyal to the Habsburg dynasty. This dual identity was facilitated by Article 19 of the Fundamental Laws, which specified that each people within the monarchy had the right to cultivate its own nationality and language. Poles, and especially the democrats who vied with the conservatives for influence within the province, availed themselves of this opportunity in various ways, including the celebrating of a series of national figures and historic anniversaries. Among the most noteworthy were the solemn reburial of the poet Adam Mickiewicz in the Wawel crypts in 1890 and the five-hundredth anniversary of the Battle of Grunwald in 1910, also celebrated in Kraków. The Polish pianist Ignacy Jan Paderewski had commissioned a massive monument commemorating that great medieval battle. These large public celebrations helped to bring Poles from all three partitioned lands closer together.

Thus, in the last third of the nineteenth century, the best place to be a Pole—certainly if one wanted to be politically active—and unlike in the Prussian or German lands, politically active in Polish—was Galicia. One could breathe Polish air there—or, as was also remarked, the very stones spoke Polish. To be sure, in Vienna (in the Reichsrat) Poles used German for their interpellations. However, back in the province, in the Galician Seym, the Polish language ruled (although it should be noted that Ruthenian interpellations during the proceedings were written down, phonetically, in Latin—not Cyrillic—script). Polish nonetheless became the language of government, the language of schooling.

Galician Poles had a high degree of autonomy—all of which allowed them to school themselves in the art of governance, to work in the bureaucracy, to develop scholarly institutes and universities where Polish would be the language of instruction, and the like. They lived in a country in which they had parliamentary representation and the rule of law. This, combined with the rights of nationalities, suggests that, as of the last third of the nineteenth century, one might think of Galicia as the closest thing to a Piedmont that the Poles had (Piedmont, meaning the Italian province that initiated Italian unification in the 1860s). Could these advantages within Galicia, thus, help propel the Poles to their own unification?

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Life in Poland’s Partitions, 1795

From Poland: The First Thousand Years, by Patrice M. Dabrowski (Cornell University Press, 2014), Kindle pp. 421-424:

Life under the three empires took on distinctly different forms. If regionalism was a problem earlier, it now threatened to become even more intractable. Although the three partitioning powers prided themselves on being enlightened states, each approached the new territories and new subjects differently. Thus, a new layer of regionalism was superimposed on the old ones. The newly acquired population was incorporated into each of the partitioned territories in different ways. Each empire was further diversified and internationalized—perhaps in ways even the partitioning powers had not anticipated. Likewise recall that, although the final partition of Poland came only in 1795, already since 1772 certain parts of the country had come under foreign rule, which left the territories further differentiated.

Prussia became a much more heterogeneous entity, although it sought to dilute the concentration of Poles in the newly acquired territories. The Prussian state took over the Crown lands, which it sold to German landowners; German bureaucrats took the place of Polish officeholders. No municipal self-rule or noble assemblies were allowed under Prussian rule. A Protestant power, Prussia also took over properties belonging to the Roman Catholic Church. Religious issues complicated the picture. Prussia truly became a multiethnic and multidenominational state. It was faced with either dealing with, or doing away with, diversity.

Prussia eventually undermined the Polish nobles by taking away their privileges. The position of their peasants was strengthened. The position of Jews was changed beyond recognition, their corporate rights undone. Rather, Friedrich the Great delineated two types of Jews: those who were to assimilate and in the process receive civil rights and those who did not have these rights and would be expelled from the province. This facilitated a relatively rapid Germanization of the first group—certainly compared to the two other Central and East European empires.

The situation in Austria looked quite different. Under Maria Theresa and especially Joseph II, various reforms were implemented—reforms that could be considered enlightened. But under Francis I, scarred by the events of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic periods, reaction ensued. Seeking to centralize power, the Habsburgs took away various privileges of the Galician nobility. Indeed, many nobles suffered dreadfully under Austrian rule: if they were not able to provide proof of nobility—something that was difficult for many an old noble family fallen on hard times—they were reduced to the status of peasants. This déclassé nobility was clearly the worst off, although the burden of taxation reduced further nobles to penury. The peasants came to fare slightly better, as they were protected by legislation and the amount of time they spent working for the landlord was regulated. Jews were obliged to take German surnames and serve in the military (like members of all the estates), but their communities still had jurisdiction over religious matters. Although a staunchly Catholic power, Austria clearly did not trust its own population: witness the strong censorship of newspapers and other printed materials in the empire. The province would remain backward, socially as well as economically.

The territories that came under Russian rule—the most extensive of the lot—were the most ethnically diverse. The easternmost lands were inhabited by people we would now call Belarusians and Ukrainians (but which then were most likely termed Ruthenes or even Russians), Lithuanians, Tatars, and Jews. Poles were mainly noble landowners. It was Polish (Sarmatian) culture that had long radiated out through the entirety of the Commonwealth and that still carried weight.

Paradoxically, these lands witnessed little initially in the way of reforms. Even the old courts and laws were maintained. The nobles within the Russian Empire initially were not as inconvenienced as were nobles under Austrian and Prussian rule, except for the fact that Crown lands were taken over. By contrast, peasants found Russian rule more onerous: now classified as serfs, they were the chattel—that is, the personal property—of the landholders, who could do with them as they wished. Furthermore, they would eventually be subjected to Russia’s onerous military service: recruits were taken for a period of twenty-five years.

The biggest problem for the Russians related to religion. The imperial authorities would do away with the Uniate (Greek Catholic) religion in the 1830s, forcing Uniates to convert to Russian Orthodoxy. As the partitions provided Russia with her first real encounter with large Jewish populations, she decided to restrict them to a region that would become known as the Pale of Settlement; this swath of land was more or less coterminous with the boundaries of the former Commonwealth. Unlike their coreligionists elsewhere, Jews, thus, could not penetrate further into the heart of the empire, that is, into Russia proper.

Such was the starting point. It would not be the ending point. The arrangement ratified in 1795, and reaffirmed in 1797, proved less permanent than the partitioning powers might have imagined.

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