Dionysus Senior, though he was the richest and most potent tyrant in his
time, yet was exceedingly afflicted and discontented in his mind,
because he could not make better verses than the poet Philoxenus, and
dispute more learnedly than Plato the philosopher; therefore in great
wrath and vexation, he threw one into a dungeon, and drove the other
into banishment.
* * * * *
* * * *
Interesting History Of
_THE BARON DE LOVZINSKI._
With a relation of the most remarkable occurrences in the life
of the celebrated COUNT PULASKI, well known as the champion of
American Liberty, and who bravely fell in its defence before
Savannah, 1779.
_Interspersed with Anecdotes of the late unfortunate KING of POLAND,
so recently dethroned._
(Continued from page 107.)
I returned home in a state of desperation. The odious names which
Pulaski had lavished on me, returned unceasingly to my reflection. The
interests of Poland, and those of M. de P----, appeared to be so
intimately connected together, that I did not perceive in what manner I
could betray my fellow-citizens by serving my friend; in the mean time I
was obliged either to abandon or renounce Lodoiska for ever. What was I
to resolve? what part should I take? I passed the whole night in a state
of the most cruel uncertainty; and when the day appeared, I went towards
Pulaski’s house, without yet having come to any determination.
The only domestic who remained there informed me, that his lord had
departed at the beginning of the night, with his daughter, after having
first dismissed all his people. Think of my despair on hearing this
news. I asked to what part Pulaski had retired. But my question was in
vain, he informed me that he was certainly ignorant of the place of his
destination.
“All that I can tell you,” says he, “is that you had scarce gone away
yesterday evening, when we heard a great noise in the apartment of his
daughter. Still terrified at the scene which had taken place between
you, I approached the door, and listened. Lodoiska wept: her furious
father overwhelmed her with injuries, bestowed his malediction upon her,
and I myself heard him exclaim: ‘To love a traitor, is to be one!
Ungrateful wretch! I shall conduct you to a place of safety, where you
shall henceforth be at a distance from seduction.’”
Could I any longer doubt the extent of my misery? I instantly called for
Boleslas, one of the most faithful of my domestics: I ordered him to
place trusty spies about the palace of Pulaski, who should bring an
account of every thing that passed there; and commanded that if the
count returned to the capital before me, he should follow him wherever
he went. Having given these instructions, and not yet despairing of
still finding the family at one of their seats in the neighbourhood of
the metropolis, I myself set out in pursuit of my mistress.
I accordingly searched through all the domains of Pulaski, and asked
concerning Lodoiska of all the passengers whom I met, but without
success. After having spent eight days in fruitless enquiry, I resolved
to return to Warsaw, and I was not a little astonished, on my arrival,
to find a Russian army encamped on the banks of the Vistula, almost
under the very walls of that city.
It was night when I entered the capital: the palaces of the grandees
were all illuminated, an immense multitude filled the streets; I heard
the songs of joy; I beheld wine flowing in rivulets in the public
squares: every thing announced to me that Poland had a king.
Boleslas, who expected me with impatience, informed me that Pulaski had
returned alone on the second day after my departure; and that he had not
stirred from his own palace but to repair to the diet, where, in spite
of his efforts, the ascendancy of Russia became every day more manifest.
“During the last assembly held this very morning,” adds he, “M. de P----
united almost all the suffrages in his favour, and was about to be
declared king, when Pulaski pronounced the fatal _Veto_: at that instant
twenty sabres were brandished in the air. The fierce palatine of
--------, whom the count had insulted in the former assembly, was the
first to rush forwards, and gave him a terrible wound on the head.
Zaremba, and some others, flew to the defence of their friend; but all
their efforts would have been unable to have saved him, if M. de
P-------- had not ranged himself on their side, exclaiming at the same
time, that he would sacrifice, with his own hand, the first person who
dared to approach him. On this the assailants retired. In the mean time
Pulaski, fainting with the loss of blood, was carried off the field in a
state of insensibility. Zaremba departed also, swearing to avenge his
friend. Having thus become master of the deliberations, the numerous
partisans of M. de P--------, instantly proclaimed him sovereign.
“Pulaski, who had been carried to his palace, was soon restored to life;
and the surgeons who attended him, declared that his wounds, although
dangerous, were not mortal. In that state, although languishing under
the most cruel torments, contrary to the advice of all his friends, he
ordered himself to be lifted into his carriage, and before noon he left
Warsaw, accompanied by Mazeppa and a few male-contents.”
It was scarcely possible to have announced worse news to me. My friend
was upon the throne, but my reconciliation with Pulaski appeared
henceforth impossible, and in all appearance Lodoiska was lost for ever.
I knew her father so well as to be under apprehensions lest he should
proceed to extremities with his daughter. I was affrighted at the
present, I durst not look forwards towards the future; and my heart was
so devoured with chagrin, that I did not go out, even to felicitate the
new king.
One of my people, whom Boleslas dispatched after Pulaski, returned at
the end of the fourth day: he had followed him fifteen leagues from the
capital; when, about that distance, Zaremba, who perceived a stranger at
a little distance from the carriage, began to conceive suspicions. As
they proceeded, four of his followers, who had concealed themselves
behind the ruins of an old house, surprised my courier, and conducted
him to Pulaski. He, with a pistol in his hand, forced him to acknowledge
to whom he belonged. “I shall send you back to Lovzinski,” said the
fierce republican, “on purpose to announce from me, that he shall not
escape my just vengeance.” At these words they blindfolded my servant,
who could not tell where they had carried him. At the end of
four-and-twenty hours they resumed, and tying a handkerchief once more
about his eyes they put him into a carriage, which having stopped at
length, after a journey of several hours, he was ordered to descend.
Scarce had he put his foot upon the ground but his guards departed at a
full gallop; on which he removed the bandage, and found himself
precisely on the same spot as that on which he had been first arrested.
This intelligence filled me with uneasiness; the menaces of Pulaski
terrified me, much less on my own account than on Lodoiska’s, who
remained in his power: in the midst of his fury he might sacrifice her
life! I resolved therefore to expose myself to every species of danger,
on purpose to discover the retreat of the father, and the prison of his
only child.
On the succeeding day, after informing my sisters of my design, I left
the capital: Boleslas alone accompanied me, and I passed for his
brother. We wandered over all Poland, and I then perceived that the
fears of Pulaski were but too well justified by the event. Under
pretence of obliging the inhabitants to take the oath of fidelity to the
new King, the Russians, scattered about in the provinces, desolated the
country, and committed a multitude of exactions in the cities.
After having spent three months in vain enquiries, despairing of being
able to find Lodoiska, touched with the most lively grief for the fate
of my country, and weeping at one and the same time for her misfortunes
and my own, I was about to return to Warsaw, to inform the new king of
the excesses committed by those foreigners in his states, when an
adventure that at first seemed to be very inauspicious, forced me to a
very different resolution.
The Turks having declared war against Russia, the Tartars of Budziac and
the Crimea made frequent incursions into Volhynia, where I then was.
Four of those robbers attacked us one afternoon, as we were leaving a
wood near Ostropol. I had imprudently neglected to load my pistols; but
I made use of my sabre with so much address and good luck, that in a
short time, two of them fell covered with wounds. Boleslas encountered
the third: the fourth attacked me with great fury; he gave me a slight
cut upon the leg, but received a terrible stroke in return, that
dismounted him from his horse, and felled him to the ground. Boleslas at
the same moment perceived himself disencumbered from his enemy, who, at
the noise made by his comrade’s fall, took to flight. He whom I had just
vanquished, then addressed me in very bad Polish, and said: “a brave man
like you ought to be generous. I beg my life of you; instead of putting
me to death, succour me, relieve me, bind up my wounds, and assist me to
arise.”
He demanded quarter with an air so noble, that I did not hesitate for a
moment. I accordingly descend from my horse, and Boleslas and myself
having helped him to arise, we dressed his wounds. “You behave well!”
says the Tartar to me; “you behave well!” As he spoke we beheld a cloud
of dust, and in a moment after more than three hundred Tartars rushed
upon us at full speed. “Be not afraid, dread nothing,” says he whom I
had spared; “I am chief of this troop.” Accordingly, by means of a sign,
he stops his followers, who were on the point of massacring us; and
speaking to them in their own language, which I was unable to
comprehend, they instantly open their ranks on purpose to permit us to
pass.
“Brave man,” exclaims their captain, addressing himself to me once more,
“had I not reason to say that you behaved well? You left me my life, and
I now save yours; it is sometimes right to spare an enemy, and even a
robber! Hear me, my friend: in attacking you, I followed my profession,
and you did your duty in conquering me. I pardon you, you have already
pardoned me; let us therefore embrace.”--He then adds: “The day is
wasting, and I would not advise you to travel in these cantons during
the present night. My people are about to repair each to his respective
post, and I cannot answer for their discretion. You perceive a castle on
a rising ground, towards the right: it belongs to a certain Pole of the
name of Dourlinski, for whom we have a high esteem, because he is very
rich. Go, demand an asylum from him; tell him that you have wounded
Titsikan, and that Titsikan pursues you. He is acquainted with my name:
I have already made him pass many an uneasy night. As to the rest, you
may rely on it, that while you remain with him, his castle shall be
sacred; but be careful not to come forth on any account before the end
of three days, and not to remain there longer than eight.---Adieu!”
It was with unfeigned pleasure that we took leave of Titsikan and his
companions. The advice of the Tartar was a command: I therefore said to
Boleslas; “Let us immediately make for the castle that he has now
pointed out to us; I am well acquainted with this same Dourlinski by
name, Pulaski has sometimes spoken to me concerning him: he perhaps is
not ignorant of the place to which the Count has retired; and it is not
impossible but that with a little address we may be able to draw the
secret from him. I shall say at all events that we are sent by Pulaski,
and this recommendation will be of more service to us than that of
Titsikan: in the mean time, Boleslas, do not forget that I am your
brother, and be sure not to discover me.”
(_To be continued._)
* * * * *