DIPLOMACY IN POLAND-LITHUANIA 299Sweden in a fleet of ships impressed from the English merchants of Elbing. He
was all set to join the expedition, and, on coming aboard was greeted by a
broadside salute. Unfortunately, 'the Gunner did it in such haste, as one of the
peaces fyred two barrels of powder, and those blew upp those partes of the
shippe where Dzialynskes plate and stuffe was, and scattred it in the sea ...'. As
George Carew, the English Ambassador, noted, Dziatynski 'remaineth still dis-
content with our nation'.^11
Dziatynski's error was not repeated, but something of his native blandness
characterized a number of other memorable Polish embassies of the period. No
doubt his compatriots interpreted the grand style as a suitable reflection of their
country's honour and integrity. All too often it was interpreted abroad as empty
show, or mere oriental opulence. Certainly, it was not particularly effective. In
1633, when Jerzy Ossolinski entered Rome with an entourage of 300 gentlemen
and a retinue of stunning sumptuosity, it is hard to see what good purpose the
vast expense was intended to serve. Quite apart from Ossolinski's private and
voluntary contribution, the Republic had been forced to borrow large sums
from Jewish money-lenders in Lwow and to mortgage Crown estates in
Lithuania in order to support the mission. Yet no known political advantage
accrued. Ossoliriski, who enjoyed the confidence of Wladyslaw IV and rose to
be Chancellor between 1643 and 1650, did not have general support within the
Republic for his dream of an ultra-Catholic monarchy; and by parading his
feathers and his princely title in Rome and in Regensburg, he did not improve
his chances. Similar scenes were repeated in Paris in October 1645, when the
Polish ambassadors, Krzysztof Opalinski, Palatine of Poznan, and Waclaw
Leszczynski, Bishop of Warmia, arrived with a splendid retinue to collect
Marie-Louise Gonzaga before her marriage to Wladyslaw IV.^12
Vanity however, was not the dominant note. In the second half of the century,
Polish diplomacy was beset by indecision and resignation. Possibly in reaction
against former assertiveness, the Republic's diplomats now tended to the other
extreme. Despite the background of military prowess, Sobieski's ambassadors
became unnecessarily concessive. This is certainly true of two crucial missions,
of Jan Gninski to the Porte in 1677, and of Krzysztof Grzymultowski to
Moscow in 1686.
Gninski, Wojewoda of Chelmno, was a life-long committeeman. As a youth
he had accompanied Opalinski to Paris. Thereafter, he served as envoy to prac-
tically every Sejm of the next three decades. He was repeatedly appointed as
Marshal of the Sejm, Marshal of the Crown Tribunal, and as Parliamentary
Commissioner. He signed the treaties of Oliwa and Andrusovo, and travelled as
ambassador to almost every country of Northern Europe. He was loyal to his
original French connections, and, from an early date, to the Sobieski camp. In
1677, he was chosen by the Sejm to seek a final peace with Turkey, after the five
recent campaigns in Podolia for possession of Kamieniec Podolski. The mission
was a costly failure. A large retinue of 450 men and 650 horses was essential to
any entry to Istambul. But Gninski spent most of his eighteen months in Turkey