Always being suspicious of pithy quotes attributed to famous dead people when the quotes do not cite a source, I had occasion to go down a rabbit hole this afternoon. I was underground for several hours.
Yesterday, I received two issues of The New York Review of Books in the post. The first issue I reviewed was delightful and quickly devoured. It also had a pithy quote at the end of the review entitled Piety & Power (written by David A. Bell). The book under review was about the life of the niece of Cardinal Richelieu, while the quote at issue was attributed to Spinoza. The quote was recorded at the very end of the review as: “Smile not, lament not, nor condemn, but understand.“
Finding the quote intriguing, I marked it for research, which I conducted today. I found multiple variations on the quote but no citation as to its source online. Thus, I became more creative in my online research, and searched for fragments of the quote, and found a variation of the quote which departed more significantly from the usual versions, which had a citation to Spinoza’s Tractatus Politicus, an unfinished work exploring forms of government. He was writing the work in the year of his death. With that citation I was able to locate a copy of the manuscript, in Latin, and translate the entire text, which allowed me to see a most wonderful, robust quote in context, which is most certainly applicable to the dispassionate study of politics (the subject of the manuscript) as well as history.
I was also able to later find, on the Hathitrust.org website, an English translation from the 19th century, with which I will later compare the entirety of my translation. But overall, the comparisons I have made thus far show that my translation is able and where clunky, the older translation is also clunky — thus, the original Latin was clunky in places.
In any event, here is the original source for the quote above – which shows how transmuted the original words have become in the interest of pithy.
“Therefore, when I applied my mind to politics, I intended to demonstrate or deduce only those things which best agree with practice, are certain and indubitable, and to inquire into matters pertaining to this science with the same freedom of mind as we are accustomed to investigate mathematical subjects, but I diligently endeavored not to ridicule, mourn, nor detest human actions, but rather sought to understand them; and so I contemplated human emotions such as love, hatred, anger, envy, glory, mercy, and other movements of the mind, not as vices of human nature, but as properties which belong to it in such a way that they pertain to its nature as the movements of the air pertain to it, such as heat, cold, storms, thunder, and other such things which, although inconvenient, are necessary and have certain causes by which we try to understand their nature, and the mind rejoices equally in the true contemplation of knowing these things which are pleasing to the senses.” [Chapter I, IV]
The 1771 AR Medal by Johann Leonhard Oexlein serves as a remarkable numismatic artifact that commemorates a pivotal moment in Polish history—the delivery of King Stanisław August Poniatowski from a plot against him orchestrated by the Confederation of Bar. This post aims to shed light on the intricate details of its design and the political climate of the time.
The Medal’s Artistic Elements
The medal, measuring 44mm in diameter and weighing 21.84 grams, is a work of intricate craftsmanship. The obverse features the Latin inscription “NOLITE TANGERE CHRISTOS MEOS,” which translates to “Do not touch my anointed ones.” It is a quotation from the Bible, Psalm 105:15 (or 103:15 in the Latin Vulgate), where God warns the kings of the earth not to harm his chosen people and his prophets. It depicts an attack on the king by two Furies, one holding a sword and another a torch. The Hand of God descends from a cloud to protect the king, while a storm looms over a cityscape in the background. The artist, J.L. Oexlein, places his signature at the lower right, and the date and time of the event are inscribed in the exergue.
The reverse of the medal bears another Latin inscription, “OCVLI DOMINI SVPER IVSTOS,” meaning “The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous.” It is another quotation from the Bible, Psalm 34:15 (or 33:16 in the Latin Vulgate), where David praises God for his protection and deliverance from his enemies. Here, King Stanislaus stands before a palace, flanked by kneeling subjects. The exergue carries the phrase “FIDA POLONIA/GAVDET,” which can be translated as “Faithful Poland rejoices.”
Historical Context
The Bar Confederation was a movement of Polish nobles and gentry that opposed the Russian influence and interference in Poland’s affairs in the late 18th century. It was formed in 1768 at the fortress of Bar in Podolia, now part of Ukraine, and lasted until 1772. The confederates opposed Polish king Stanisław II August Poniatowski, who was seen as a puppet of Russia, and against the Russian army that freely accessed much of Poland. They also resisted the reforms that granted equal rights to religious minorities, such as Protestants and Orthodox Christians, in the predominantly Catholic country.
In 1770, the Council of the Bar Confederation proclaimed King Stanisław II August Poniatowski dethroned. Richard Butterwick narrates the events which followed quite ably:
Having declared Stanisław August’s reign void, [the Bar Confederates] decided to abduct him, probably in order to put him on trial. However, the attempt backfired badly, not least because only the king’s version of events is known. In short it is as follows:
On the evening of 3 November 1771 Stanisław August was returning to the Royal Castle from a visit to the nearby residence of Michał Czartoryski, when confederate riders surrounded his lightly guarded carriage. After a brief struggle, they headed out of the city with the wounded monarch. One by one, they lost either their nerve or their bearings, until the king was able to talk round the last of his captors and find refuge in the house of a miller. Help soon arrived from Warsaw. Whatever else actually happened that night, afterwards Stanisław August was able to depict the confederates to all Europe as regicides, and himself as a man of mercy. Despite the pressure from Catherine II for the severest penalties to be applied to the ‘regicides’, he kept his promise to spare his last captor’s life. He even paid him a pension in exile for the remainder of his reign.
-Butterwick, R. (2020). The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth 1733-1795: Light and Flame, Yale University Press: New Haven. p. 115.
Butterwick notes that Stanisław August preserved the clothes that he had been wearing that evening as “quasi-relics,” and interpreted his survival from the conspiracy as a sign that he was destined to achieve great things for the Commonwealth. The king also placed even greater trust in Divine Providence going forward. The direct action against the king, however, had unfortunate and far-reaching consequences for the Bar Confederation.
In 1772, Adam Naruszewicz wrote an ode commemorating the king’s remarkable clemency towards the conspirators. Naruszewicz’s “ODA III DO SPRAWIEDLIWOŚCI,” included, at lines 57-60, the following statement: “I can only interpret such a fate as a marvel: to have kings as defenders of their own grievances, to seek revenge through kindness, and with a sincere mind prefer mercy over being a hero of power” (from Naruszewicz, A. (2005). Poezje zebrane. Vol. II. Wolska, B. (ed). Poland: Instytut Badań Literackich. p. 109, which read: “Polszczę to tylko takie los zostawił dziwy: mieć królów obrońcami urazy właściwej, szukać zemsty dobrocią, a umysłem szczerem woleć litości, niż być mocy bohaterem”).
AR Medal by Jan Filip Holzhaeusser. POLAND. 1771, Featuring Adam Naruszewicz and Maciej Sarbiewski. Struck by order of Stanisław August to commemorate these famous Polish poets. HC-3961
Wolska, the editor of the volume that I translated the ode fragment from, implied that Naruszewicz seemed to be contrasting Stanisław August’s humanitarianism with rulers such as the usurper Catherine II and expansionist Frederick II who found their fame on policies of aggression and wars that lead to the deaths of many people (from Naruszewicz, A. (2005), p. 6, which read: “Daje to okazję do przeciwsta wienia postawy pełnej humanitaryzmu władcom budującym swe zna czenie i sławę na wzbudzającej strach agresywnej polityce i wojnach, które przyczyniają się do śmierci wielu ludzi”).
Political Repercussions
The direct assault on the person of the king led the Habsburgs and other foreign courts to withdraw their support from the Confederation of Bar, resulting in, among other things, the expulsion of their members from their territories. This incident also provided the neighboring powers—Russia, Prussia, and Austria—a pretext to highlight the so-called “Polish anarchy,” thereby “justifying” their interventionist policies and the first partition of Poland. Consequently, the Confederation lost much of its European support, and the king reverted to the Russian faction.
Conclusion
The 1771 AR Medal by Johann Leonhard Oexlein is not merely a numismatic curiosity; it is a tangible representation of this tumultuous period in Polish history. It encapsulates the complexities of political alliances, the fervor of nationalistic movements, and the divine providence attributed to the survival of a king. As such, it serves as an invaluable artifact for scholars and enthusiasts interested in the interplay between numismatics and history.
Pleased to have completed a translation of Evers’ 1785 essay, which still appears in scholarship today. Although Evers missed the mark in his attribution of the coins to the Wends, he was nonetheless one of the earliest to attempt a scholarly treatment of the coins now known as Randpfennige or cross denarii and certainly amongst the first to illustrate the coins.
A copy of the monograph I prepared to accompany the translation is available with a click of the button below:
Bronze medal, 16.2 cm, of Joachim Lelewel, uniface, by David d’Angers, 1844.
Joachim Lelewel, the esteemed Polish patriot, numismatist, historian, and geographer, has left an indelible mark on the field of medieval numismatics through his extensive research, publications, and profound expertise. Today, I had the pleasure of delving into an article from years past, which provided invaluable insights into Lelewel’s character and accomplishments (button links to article in original French and translation below). It is my fervent belief that Lelewel’s humility and modesty, virtues often lacking in today’s prominent figures, serve as a refreshing reminder of authenticity and integrity.
One striking aspect of Lelewel’s character was his remarkable aversion to having his portrait drawn or otherwise commemorated. Despite the fervent demand for his likeness from his countless admirers, he tenaciously resisted such endeavors. Nevertheless, his resolve was eventually breached, leading to the creation of one of the most renowned portraits of Lelewel—the medal by David d’Angers (1788-1856), a highly skilled sculptor and medallist of the 19th century.
David d’Angers in 1853, photograph by Édouard Baldus
In an enlightening passage from the article, Lelewel’s correspondence sheds light on the creation of the medallion by David:
In the same collection of letters [written by Lelewel], we find some interesting details regarding the large medallion that David made of Lelewel. The few sentences we encounter in his letters show how much Lelewel avoided any publicity or external displays, even from his friends and his own family.
In response to a question posed by his brother Jean about his portrait, Lelewel replied on December 8, 1844: “I conclude this long letter with a little news that will let you know that if you won’t have the painting, at least you will soon have the satisfaction of seeing me in bronze. The very famous sculptor David has been making various efforts for a long time to obtain my profile. Recently, he stayed in Brussels and came to my place with a pencil in hand. I didn’t have the possibility to show him the door or snatch his pencil away, but he didn’t reach his goal without difficulties.[1] Finally, you will have me in bronze, rejoice!”
Jean became impatient and asked about the medallion. But there was no sign of life from David. “Has David done anything? I don’t know. He hasn’t sent me anything, but I’ve heard that he had other urgent works,” Lelewel wrote.[2] “I’m finally sending you two plaster medallions sent by David; they will certainly break at my place. If you want the one in bronze, come and get it yourself.” On January 20, 1846, Lelewel wrote, “David refused to make a portrait of the Prince of Orleans, but he sculpts vagabonds.”
Lelewel’s admirers made several medals in his honor, but the old loner was not at all proud. In one of his many letters,[3] he writes in a moment of good humor: “The Belgians steal from me; there is no doubt that my ‘facies’ is my material and intellectual property. They respect this property in such a way: Hart struck a large medal. Three copies of the small medal were brought to me by the Schoors brothers, wealthy numismatic enthusiasts whom I did not know before. Geefs, one of the top sculptors here, often came to my place without being invited. I thought his visits had a purpose and that he came to steal from me. It’s done! He told me that he has an order for a copy of my bust in alabaster for Volhynia or Podolia.” What Lelewel tells us about the difficulties he caused David when he wanted to draw his profile is perfectly true. He created difficulties for anyone who wanted to paint his portrait. Such cases often arose, as many of his Belgian and Polish admirers desired to have his likeness. From another source, we learn about the portrait of our scholar painted by Jean van Eycken. The widow of a friend of Lelewel, Mrs. Casimir Korybut-Daszkiewicz, was determined to have the portrait of this great patriot. As we know, it was not easy. But Jean van Eycken accepted the proposal and succeeded in painting the portrait through a trick. He painted through a partially opened door during a long conversation that Lelewel had with a Belgian democrat who was in on the secret. In this oil painting, Lelewel is depicted standing, his right hand resting on a cane, and his left hand placed behind his back in a gesture familiar to him. He is dressed in a blue working blouse. This portrait was later purchased by Chopin’s nephew, Colonel Henry Jedrzejewicz, who lived in Paris.
We also know of another portrait painted without Lelewel’s knowledge in 1854 by Guminski. This time, he is depicted sitting while drawing one of his geographical maps, with his left hand also behind his back. In the background, several shelves with books can be seen, as well as a chair holding his hat and handkerchief. Numerous photographs of this portrait were spread throughout Poland, and the original belonged to Jozefowicz, who resided in Paris.
[1] The drawing by David is in print room of the Royal Library of Brussels.
The pencil drawing created by David is extant. It was used to create the medal at the start of this posting.
Pencil drawing of Joachim Lelewel by David d’Angers, 1844.
The enduring impact of David’s medal of Lelewel resonated profoundly, inspiring numerous other artists to adopt his image for their own portraits. It is not difficult to find examples of other medallists who drew inspiration from David’s creation. Two notable examples immediately come to mind…
Bronze medal by Hart, 1858. H-Cz. 3932.
Bronze medal by Wurden, 1859. H-Cz. 5393.
The legacy of Joachim Lelewel includes not just his scholarship but his unwavering modesty and aversion to public display. The latter remain integral facets of his character that continue to captivate our imagination. His refusal to be immortalized in portraits and the anecdotes surrounding his resistance only serve to enhance our admiration for this exceptional man, whose contributions to numismatics and historical research endure to this day.
A video best viewed on a large computer screen or television screen.
The video and PDS below were prepared for an upcoming family reunion.
In the event that the video quality is lacking, your screen is too small, or the screen moves by too quickly, a PDF of the video is available below, along with some helpful charts. Also, I have the video available as a PowerPoint – contact me if you would like it in that format.
Northcoast Antiquarian 