SOCIETY IN POLAND.
"TO LADY SOMERSET, SOMERSET CASTLE, ENGLAND.
[Written three weeks after the preceding.]
"You know, my dear mother, that your Pembroke is famous for his
ingenious mode of showing the full value of every favor he confers!
Can I then relinquish the temptation of telling you what I have left
to make you happy with this epistle?
"About five minutes ago, I was sitting on the lawn at the feet of the
countess, reading to her and the Princess Poniatowski the charming
poem of 'The Pleasures of Memory.' As both these ladies understand
English, they were admiring it, and paying many compliments to the
graces of my delivery, when the palatine presented himself, and told
me, if I had any commands for St. Petersburg, I must prepare them,
for a messenger was to set off on the next morning, by daybreak.' I
instantly sprang up, threw my book into the hand of Thaddeus, and
here I am in my own room scribbling to you!
"Even at the moment in which I dip my pen in the ink, my hurrying
imagination paints on my heart the situation of my beloved home when
this letter reaches you. I think I see you and my good aunt, seated
on the blue sofa in your dressing-room, with your needle work on the
little table before you; I see Mary in her usual nook--the recess by
the old harpsichord--and my dear father bringing in this happy letter
from your son! I must confess this romantic kind of fancy-sketching
makes me feel rather oddly: very unlike what I felt a few months ago,
when I was a mere coxcomb--indifferent, unreflecting, unappreciating,
and fit for nothing better than to hold pins at my lady's toilet.
Well, it is now made evident to me that we never know the blessings
bestowed on us until we are separated from the possession of them.
Absence tightens the strings which unites friends as well as lovers:
at least I find it so; and though I am in the fruition of every good
on this side the ocean, yet my very happiness renders me ungrateful,
and I repine because I enjoy it alone. Positively, I must bring you
all hither to pass a summer, or come back at the termination of my
travels, and carry away this dear family by main force to England.
"Tell my cousin Mary that, either way, I shall present to her esteem
the most amiable and accomplished of my sex; but I warn her not to
fall in love with him, neither in _propriâ, personâ_, nor by his
public fame, nor with his private character. Tell her 'he is a bright
and particular star,' neither in her sphere nor in any other woman's.
In this way he is as cold as 'Dian's Crescent;' and to my great
amazement too, for when I throw my eyes over the many lovely young
women who at different times fill the drawing-room of the countess, I
cannot but wonder at the perfect indifference with which he views
their (to me) irresistible charms.
"He is polite and attentive to them all; he talks with them, smiles
with them, and treats them with every gentle complacency; but they do
not live one instant in his memory. I mean they do not occupy his
particular wishes; for with regard to every respectful sentiment
towards the sex in general, and esteem to some amiable individuals,
he is as awake as in the other case he is still asleep. The fact is,
he has no idea of appropriation; he never casts one thought upon
himself; kindness is spontaneous in his nature; his sunny eyes beam
on all with modest benignity, and his frank and glowing conversation
is directed to every rank of people. They imbibe it with an avidity
and love which makes its way to his heart, without kindling one spark
of vanity. Thus, whilst his fine person and splendid actions fill
every eye and bosom, I see him moving in the circle unconscious of
his eminence and the admiration he excites.
"Drawn by such an example, to which his high quality as well as
extraordinary merit gives so great an influence, most of the younger
nobility have been led to enter the army. These circumstances, added
to the detail of his bravery and uncommon talents in the field, have
made him an object of universal regard, and, in consequence, wherever
he is seen he meets with applause and acclamation: nay, even at the
appearance of his carriage in the streets, the passengers take off
their hats and pray for him till he is out of sight. It is only then
that I perceive his cheek flush with the conviction that he is seated
in their hearts.
"'It is this, Thaddeus,' said I to him one day, when walking together
we were obliged to retire into a house from the crowds that followed
him; 'it is this, my dear friend, which shields your heart against
the arrows of love. You have no place for that passion; your mistress
is glory, and she courts you.'
"'My mistress is my country,' replied he; 'at present I desire no
other. For her I would die; for her only would I wish to live.'
Whilst he spoke, the energy of his soul blazed in his eye. I smiled.
"'You are an enthusiast, Thaddeus,' I said.
"'Pembroke!' returned he, in a surprised and reproachful tone.
"'I do not give you that name opprobriously,' resumed I, laughing;
'but there are many in my country, who, hearing these sentiments,
would not scruple to call you mad.'
"'Then I pity them,' returned Thaddeus. 'Men who cannot ardently
feel, cannot taste supreme happiness. My grandfather educated me at
the feet of patriotism; and when I forget his precepts and example,
may my guardian angel forget me!'
"'Happy, glorious Thaddeus!' cried I, grasping his hand; 'how I envy
you your destiny! to live as you do, in the lap of honor, virtue and
glory the aim and end of your existence!'
"The animated countenance of my friend changed at these words, and
laying his hand on my arm, he said, 'Do not envy me my destiny.
Pembroke, you are the son of a free and loyal country, at peace with
itself; insatiate power has not dared to invade its rights. Your
king, in happy security, reigns in the confidence of his people,
whilst our anointed Stanislaus is baited and insulted by oppression
from without and ingratitude within. Do not envy me; I would rather
live in obscurity all my days than have the means which calamity may
produce of acquiring celebrity over the ruins of Poland. O! my
friend, the wreath that crowns the head of conquest is thick and
bright; but that which binds the olive of peace on the bleeding
wounds of my country will be the dearest to me.'
"Such sentiments, my clear madam, have opened new lights upon my poor
mistaken faculties. I never considered the subject so maturely as my
friend has done; victory and glory were with me synonymous words. I
had not learned, until frequent conversations with the young, ardent,
and pious Sobieski taught me, how to discriminate between animal
courage and true valor--between the defender of his country and the
ravager of other states. In short, I see in Thaddeus Sobieski all
that my fancy hath ever pictured of the heroic character. Whilst I
contemplate the sublimity of his sentiments and the tenderness of his
soul, I cannot help thinking how few would believe that so many
admirable qualities could belong to one mind, and that mind remain
unacquainted with the throes of ambition or the throbs of self-love."
Pembroke judged rightly of his friend; for if ever the real
disinterested _amor patriæ_ glowed in the breast of a man, it
animated the heart of the young Sobieski. At the termination of the
foregoing sentence in the letter to his mother, Pembroke was
interrupted by the entrance of a servant, who presented him a packet
which had that moment arrived from St. Petersburg. He took it, and
putting his writing materials into a desk, read the following epistle
from his governor:
"TO PEMBROKE SOMERSET, ESQ.
"My dear sir,
"I have this day received your letter, enclosing one for Lady
Somerset. You must pardon me that I have detained it, and will
continue to do so until I am favored with your answer to this, for
which I shall most anxiously wait.
"You know, Mr. Somerset, my reputation in the sciences; you know my
depth in the languages; and besides, the Marquis of Inverary, with
whom I travelled over the Continent, offered you sufficient
credentials respecting my knowledge of the world, and the honorable
manner in which I treat my pupils. Sir Robert Somerset and your lady
mother were amply satisfied with the account which his lordship gave
of my character; but with all this, in one point every man is
vulnerable. No scholar can forget those lines of the poet:--
'Felices ter, et amplius,
Quos irrupta tenet copula; nec malis
Divulsus quærimoniis,
Supremâ citius solvet amor die.'
It has been my misfortune that I have felt them.
"You are not ignorant that I was known to the Brinicki family, when I
had the honor of conducting the marquis through Russia. The count's
accomplished kinswoman, the amiable and learned widow of Baron
Surowkoff, even then took particular notice of me; and when I
returned with you to St. Petersburg. I did not find that my short
absence had obliterated me from her memory.
"You are well acquainted with the dignity of that lady's opinions on
political subjects. She and I coincided in ardor for the
consolidating cause of sovereignty, and in hatred of that levelling
power which pervades all Europe. Many have been the long and
interesting conversations we have held together on the prosecution of
the grand schemes of the three great contracting monarchs.
"The baroness, I need not observe, is as handsome as she is
ingenuous; her understanding is as masculine as her person is
desirable; and I had been more or less than man had I not understood
that my figure and talents were agreeable to her. I cannot say that
she absolutely promised me her hand, but she went as far that way as
delicacy would permit. I am thus circumstantial, Mr. Somerset, to
show you that I do not proceed without proof, She has repeatedly said
in my presence that she would never marry any man unless he were not
only well-looking, but of the profoundest erudition, united with an
acquaintance with men and manners which none can dispute. 'Besides,'
added she, 'he must not differ with me one tittle in politics, for on
that head I hold myself second to no man or woman in Europe.' And
then she has complimented me, by declaring that I possessed more
judicious sentiments on government than any man in St. Petersburg,
and that she should consider herself happy, on the first vacancy in
the imperial college, to introduce me at court, where she was 'sure
the empress would at once discover the value of my talents; but,' she
continued, 'in such a case, I will not allow that even her majesty
shall rival me in your esteem.' The modesty natural to my character
told me that these praises must have some other source than my
comparatively unequal abilities; and I unequivocally found it in the
partiality with which her ladyship condescended to regard me.
"Was I to blame, Mr. Somerset? Would not any man of sensibility and
honor have comprehended such advances from a woman of her rank and
reputation? I could not be mistaken; her looks and words needed no
explanation which my judgment could not pronounce. Though I am aware
that I do not possess that _lumen purpureum juveniæ_ which
attracts very young, uneducated women, yet I am not much turned of
fifty; and from the baroness's singular behavior, I had every reason
to expect handsomer treatment than she has been pleased to dispense
to me since my return to this capital.
"But to proceed regularly--(I must beg your pardon for the warmth
which has hurried me to this digression): you know, sir, that from
the hour in which I had the honor of taking leave of your noble
family in England, I strove to impress upon your rather volatile mind
a just and accurate conception of the people amongst whom I was to
conduct you. When I brought you into this extensive empire, I left no
means unexerted to heighten your respect not only for its amiable
sovereign, but for all powers in amity with her. It is the
characteristic of genius to be zealous. I was so, in favor of the
pretensions of the great Catherine to that miserable country in which
you now are, and to which she deigned to offer her protection. To
this zeal, and my unfortunate though honorable devotion to the wishes
of the baroness, I am constrained to attribute my present dilemma.
"When Poland had the insolence to rebel against its illustrious
mistress, you remember that all the rational world was highly
incensed. The Baroness Surowkoff declared herself frequently, and
with vehemence she appealed to me. My veracity and my principles were
called forth, and I confessed that I thought every friend to the
Tzaritza ought to take up arms against that ungrateful people. The
Count Brinicki was then appointed to command the Russian forces
preparing to join the formidable allies; and her ladyship, very
unexpectedly on my part, answered me by approving what I said, and
added that of course I meant to follow her cousin into Poland, for
that even she, as a woman, was so earnest in the cause, she would
accompany him to the frontiers, and there await the result.
"What could I do? How could I withstand the expectations of a lady of
her quality, and one who I believed loved me? However, for some time
I did oppose my wish to oblige her; I urged my cloth, and the
impossibility of accounting for such a line of conduct to the father
of my pupil? The baroness ridiculed all these arguments as mere
excuses, and ended with saying, 'Do as you please, Mr. Loftus. I have
been deceived in your character; the friend of the Baroness Surowkoff
must be consistent; he must be as willing to fight for the cause he
espouses as to speak for it: in this case, the sword must follow the
oration, else we shall see Poland in the hands of a rabble.'
"This decided me. I offered my services to the count to attend him to
the field. He and the young lords persuaded you to do the same; and
as I could not think of leaving you, when your father had placed you
under my charge, I was pleased to find that my approval confirmed
your wish to turn soldier. I was not then acquainted, Mr. Somerset
(for you did not tell me of it until we were far advanced into
Poland), with Sir Robert's and my lady's dislike of the army. This
has been a prime source of my error throughout this affair. Had I
known their repugnance to your taking up arms, my duty would have
triumphed over even my devotion to the baroness; but I was born under
a melancholy horoscope; nothing happens as any one of my humblest
wishes might warrant.
"At the first onset of the battle, I became so suddenly ill that I
was obliged to retire; and on this unfortunate event, which was
completely unwilled on my part (for no man can command the periods of
sickness), the baroness founded a contempt which has disconcerted all
my schemes. Besides, when I attempted to remonstrate with her
ladyship on the promise which, if not directly given, was implied,
she laughed at me; and when I persisted in my suit, all at once, like
the rest of her ungrateful and undistinguishing sex, she burst into a
tempest of invectives, and forbade me her presence.
"What am I now to do, Mr. Somerset? This inconsistent woman has
betrayed me into conduct diametrically opposite to the commands of
your family. Your father particularly desired that I would not suffer
you to go either into Hungary or Poland. In the last instance I have
permitted you to disobey him. And my Lady Somerset (who, alas! I now
remember lost both her father and brother in different engagements),
you tell me, had declared that she never would pardon the man who
should put military ideas into your head.
"Therefore, sir, though you are my pupil, I throw myself on your
generosity. If you persist in acquainting your family with the late
transactions at Zielime, and your present residence in Poland, I
shall finally be ruined. I shall not only forfeit the good opinion of
your noble father and mother, but lose all prospect of the living of
Somerset, which Sir Robert was so gracious as to promise should be
mine on the demise of the present incumbent. You know, Mr. Somerset,
that I have a mother and six sisters in Wales, whose support depends
on my success in life; if my preferment be stopped now, they must
necessarily be involved in a distress which makes me shudder.
"I cannot add more, sir; I know well your character for generosity,
and I therefore rest upon it with the utmost confidence. I shall
detain the letter which you did me the honor to enclose for my Lady
Somerset till I receive your decision; and ever, whilst I live, will
I henceforth remain firm to my old and favorite maxim, which I
adopted from the glorious epistle of Horace to Numicius. Perhaps you
may not recollect the lines? They run thus:--
Nil admirari, prope res est una, Numici,
Solaque, quae possit facere et servare beatum.
"I have the honor to be,
"Dear sir,
"Your most obedient servant,
"ANDREW LOFTUS.
"St. PETERSBURG, _September_, 1792."
"P. S. Just as I was about sealing this packet, the English
ambassador forwarded to me a short letter from your father, in which
he desires us to quit Russia, and to make the best of our way to
England, where you are wanted on a most urgent occasion. He explains
himself no further, only repeating his orders in express commands
that we set off instantly. I wait your directions."
This epistle disconcerted Mr. Somerset. He always guessed the
Baroness Surowkoff was amusing herself with his vain and pedantic
preceptor; but he never entertained a suspicion that her ladyship
would carry her pleasantry to so cruel an excess. He clearly saw that
the fears of Mr. Loftus with regard to the displeasure of his parents
were far from groundless; and therefore, as there was no doubt, from
the extreme age of Dr. Manners, that the rectory of Somerset would
soon become vacant, he thought it better to oblige his poor governor,
and preserve their secret for a month or two, than to give him up to
the indignation of Sir Robert. On these grounds, Pembroke resolved to
write to Mr. Loftus, and ease the anxiety of his heart. Although he
ridiculed his vanity, he could not help respecting the affectionate
solicitude of a son and a brother, and as that plea had won him, half
angry, half grieved, and half laughing, he dispatched a few hasty
lines.
"To THE REVEREND ANDREW LOFTUS, ST. PETERSBURG.
"What whimsical fit, my dear sir, has seized my father, that I am
recalled at a moment's notice? Faith, I am so mad at the summons, and
at his not deigning to assign a reason for his order, that I do not
know how I may be tempted to act.
"Another thing, you beg of me not to say a word of my having been in
Poland; and for that purpose you have withheld the letter which I
sent to you to forward to my mother! You offer far-fetched and
precious excuses for having betrayed your own wisdom, and your
pupil's innocence, into so mortal an offence. One cause of my being
here, you say, was your 'ardor in the cause of insulted Russia, and
your hatred of that levelling power which pervades all Europe.'
"Well, I grant it. I understood from you and Brinicki that you were
leading me against a set of violent, discontented men of rank, who,
in proportion as each was inflated with his own personal pride,
despised all of their own order who did not agree with them, and,
coalescing together under the name of freedom, were introducing
anarchy throughout a country which Catharine would graciously have
protected. All this I find to be in error. But both of you may have
been misled: the count by partiality and you by misrepresentation;
therefore I do not perceive why you should be in such a terror. The
wisest man in the world may see through bad lights; and why should
you think my father would never pardon you for having been so
unlucky?
"Yet to dispel your dread of such tidings ruining you with Sir
Robert, I will not be the first to tell him of our quixoting. Only
remember, my good sir,--though, to oblige you, I withhold my letters
to my mother, and when I arrive in England shall lock up my lips from
mentioning Poland,--that positively, I will not be mute one day
longer than that in which my father presents you with the living of
Somerset; then you will be independent of his displeasure, and I may,
and will, declare my everlasting gratitude to this illustrious
family.
"I am half mad when I think of leaving them. I must now tear myself
from this mansion of comfort and affection, to wander with you in
some rumbling old barouche 'over brake and through briar!' Well,
patience! Another such upset to your friends of the Neva, and with
'victory perched like an eagle on their laurelled brows,' I may have
some chance of wooing the Sobieskis to the banks of the Thames. At
present, I have not sufficient hope to keep me in good-humor.
"Meet me this day week at Dantzic: I shall there embark for England.
You had best not bring the foreign servants with you; they might
blab. Discharge them at St. Petersburg, and hire a courier for
yourself, whom we may drop at the seaport.
"I have the honor to remain,
"Dear sir,
"Your most obedient servant,
PEMBROKE SOMERSET.
"VILLANOW, _September_, 1792."
When Somerset joined his friends at supper, and imparted to them the
commands of his father, an immediate change was produced in the
spirits of the party. During the lamentations of the ladies and the
murmurs of the young men, the countess tried to dispel the effects of
the information by addressing Pembroke with a smile, and saying, "But
we hope that you have seen enough at Villanow to tempt you back again
at no very distant period? Tell Lady Somerset you have left a second
mother in Poland, who will long to receive another visit from her
adopted son."
"Yes, my dear madam," returned he; "and I shall hope, before a very
distant period, to see those two kind mothers united as intimately by
friendship as they are in my heart."
Thaddeus listened with a saddened countenance. He had not been
accustomed to the thought of a long separation, and when he met it
now, he hardly knew how to proportion his uneasiness to the
privation. Hope and all the hilarities of youth flushed in his soul;
his features continually glowed with animation, whilst the gay
beaming of his eyes ever answered to the smile on his lips. Hence the
slightest veering of his mind was perceptible to the countess, who,
turning round, saw him leaning thoughtfully in his chair, whilst
Pembroke, with increasing vehemence, was running through various
invectives against the hastiness of his recall.
"Come, come, Thaddeus!" cried she; "let us think no more of this
parting until it arrives. You know that anticipation of evil is the
death of happiness; and it will be a kind of suicide should we
destroy the hours we may yet enjoy together in vain complainings that
they are so soon to terminate."
A little exhortation from the countess, and a maternal kiss which she
imprinted on his cheek, restored him to cheerfulness, and the evening
passed more pleasantly than it had portended.
Much as the palatine esteemed Pembroke Somerset, his mind was too
deeply absorbed in the condition of the kingdom to attend to less
considerable cares. He beheld his country, even on the verge of
destruction, awaiting with firmness the approach of the earthquake
which threatened to ingulf it in the neighboring nations. He saw the
storm lowering; but he determined, whilst there remained one spot of
vantage ground above the general wreck, that Poland should yet have a
name and a defender. These thoughts possessed him; these plans
engaged him; and he had not leisure to regret pleasure when he was
struggling for existence.
The empress continued to pour her armies into the heart of the
kingdom. The King of Prussia, boldly flying from his treaties,
marched to bid her colors a conqueror's welcome; and the Emperor of
Germany, following the example of so great a prince, did not blush to
show that his word was equally contemptible.
Dispatches daily arrived of the villages being laid waste; that
neither age, sex, nor situation shielded the unfortunate inhabitants,
and that all the frontier provinces were in flames.
The Diet was called, [Footnote: The constitutional Diet of Poland
nearly answers in principle to the British three estates in
Parliament--King, Lords, and Commons.] and the debates agitated with
the anxiety of men who were met to decide on their dearest interests.
The bosom of the benevolent Stanislaus bled at the dreadful picture
of his people's sufferings, and hardly able to restrain his tears, he
answered the animated exordiums of Sobieski for resistance to the
last with an appeal immediately to his heart.
"What is it that you urge me to do, my lord?" said he. "Was it not to
secure the happiness of my subjects that I labored? and finding my
designs impracticable, what advantage would it be to them should I
pertinaciously oppose their small numbers to the accumulated array of
two empires, and of a king almost as powerful as either. What is my
kingdom but the comfort of my people? What will it avail me to see
them fall around me, man by man, and the few who remain bending in
speechless sorrow over their graves? Such a sight would break my
heart. Poland without its people would be a desert, and I a hermit
rather than a king."
In vain the palatine combated these arguments, showing the vain quiet
such a peace might afford, by declaring it could only be temporary.
In vain he told his majesty that he would purchase safety for the
present race at the vast expense of not only the liberty of
posterity, but of its probity and happiness.
"However you disguise slavery," cried he, "it is slavery still. Its
chains, though wreathed with roses, not only fasten on the body but
rivet on the mind. They bend it from the loftiest virtue to a
debasement beneath calculation. They disgrace honor; they trample
upon justice. They transform the legions of Rome into a band of
singers. They prostrate the sons of Athens and of Sparta at the feet
of cowards. They make man abjure his birth right, bind himself to
another's will, and give that into a tyrant's hands which he received
as a deposit from Heaven--his reason, his conscience, and his soul.
Think on this, and then, if you can, subjugate Poland to her
enemies."
Stanislaus, weakened by years and subdued by disappointment, now
retained no higher wish than to save his subjects from immediate
outrage. He did not answer the palatine, but with streaming eyes bent
over the table, and annulled the glorious constitution of 1791. Then
with emotions hardly short of agony, he signed an order presented by
a plenipotentiary from the combined powers, which directed Prince
Poniatowski to deliver the army under his command into the hands of
General Brinicki.
As the king put his signature to these papers, Sobieski, who had
strenuously withstood each decision, started from his chair, bowed to
his sovereign, and in silence left the apartment. Several noblemen
followed him.
These pacific measures did not meet with better treatment from
without. When they were noised abroad, an alarming commotion arose
among the inhabitants of Warsaw, and nearly four thousand men of the
first families in the kingdom assembled themselves in the park of
Villanow, and with tumultuous eagerness declared their resolution to
resist the invaders of their country to their last gasp. The Prince
Sapieha, Kosciusko, and Sobieski, with the sage Dombrowski, were the
first who took this oath of fidelity to Poland; and they administered
it to Thaddeus, who, kneeling down, inwardly invoked Heaven to aid
him, as he swore to fulfil his trust.
In the midst of these momentous affairs, Pembroke Somerset bade adieu
to his Polish friends, and set sail with his governor from Dantzic
for England.