BATTLE OF BRZESC--THE TENTH OF OCTOBER.
Thaddeus was not less eager to release his grandfather than he had
been to relieve the anxiety of his sovereign. He hastened, at the
head of a few troops, to the prison of Sobieski, and gave him
liberty, amidst the acclamations of his soldiers.
The universal joy at these prosperous events did not last many days:
it was speedily terminated by information that Cracow had surrendered
to a Prussian force, that the King of Prussia was advancing towards
the capital, and that the Russians, more implacable in consequence of
the late treatment their garrison had received at Warsaw, were
pouring into the country like a deluge.
At this intelligence the consternation became dreadful. The Polonese
army in general, worn with fatigue and long service, and without
clothing or ammunition, were not in any way, excepting courage,
fitted for resuming the field.
The treasury was exhausted, and means of raising a supply seemed
impracticable. The provinces were laid waste, and the city had
already been drained of its last ducat. In this exigency a council
met in his majesty's cabinet, to devise some expedient for obtaining
resources. The consultation was as desponding as their situation,
until Thaddeus Sobieski, who had been a silent observer, rose from
his seat. Sudden indisposition had prevented the palatine attending,
but his grandson knew well how to be his substitute. Whilst blushes
of awe and eagerness crimsoned his cheek, he advanced towards
Stanislaus, and taking from his neck and other parts of his dress
those magnificent jewels it was customary to wear in the presence of
the king, he knelt down, and laying them at the feet of his majesty,
said, in a suppressed voice, "These are trifles; but such as they
are, and all of the like kind which we possess, I am commanded by my
grandfather to beseech your majesty to appropriate to the public
service."
"Noble young man!" cried the king, raising him from the ground; "you
have indeed taught me a lesson. I accept these jewels with gratitude.
Here," said he, turning to the treasurer, "put them into the national
fund, and let them be followed by my own, with my gold and silver
plate, which latter I desire may be instantly sent to the mint. Three
parts the army shall have; the other we must expend in giving support
to the surviving families of the brave men who have fallen in our
defence." The palatine readily united with his grandson in the
surrender of all their personal property for the benefit of their
country; and, according to their example, the treasury was soon
filled with gratuities from the nobles. The very artisans offered
their services gratis; and all hands being employed to forward the
preparations, the army was soon enabled to take the field, newly
equipped and in high spirits.
The countess had again to bid adieu to a son who was now become as
much the object of her admiration as of her love. In proportion as
glory surrounded him and danger courted his steps, the strings of
affection drew him closer to her soul; the "aspiring blood" of the
Sobieskis which beat in her veins could not cheer the dread of a
mother, could not cause her to forget that the spring of her
existence now flowed from the fountain which had taken its source
from her. Her anxious and watching heart paid dearly in tears and
sleepless nights for the honor with which she was saluted at every
turning as the mother of Thaddeus: that Thaddeus who was not more the
spirit of enterprise, and the rallying point of resistance, than he
was to her the gentlest, the dearest, the most amiable of sons. It
matters not to the undistinguishing bolt of carnage whether it strike
common breasts or those rare hearts whose lives are usually as brief
as they are dazzling; this leaden messenger of death banquets as
greedily on the bosom of a hero as if it had lit upon more vulgar
prey; all is levelled to the seeming chance of war, which comes like
a whirlwind of the desert, scattering man and beast in one wide ruin.
Such thoughts as these possessed the melancholy but prayerful
reveries of the Countess Sobieski, from the hour in which she saw
Thaddeus and his grandfather depart for Cracow until she heard it was
retaken, and that the enemy were defeated in several subsequent
contests.
Warsaw was again bombarded, and again Kosciusko, with the palatine
and Thaddeus, preserved it from destruction. In short, wherever they
moved, their dauntless little army carried terror to its adversaries,
and diffused hope through the homes and hearts of their countrymen.
They next turned their course to the relief of Lithuania; but whilst
they were on their route thither, they received intelligence that a
division of the Poles, led by Prince Poniatowski, having been routed
by a formidable body of Russians under Suwarrow, that general, elated
with his success, was hastening forward to re-attack the capital.
Kosciusko resolved to prevent him, prepared to give immediate battle
to Ferfen, another Russian commander, who was on his march to form a
junction with his victorious countrymen. To this end Kosciusko
divided his forces; half of them to not only support the retreat of
the prince, but to enable him to hover near Suwarrow, and to keep a
watchful eye over his motions; whilst Kosciusko, accompanied by the
two Sobieskis, would proceed with the other division towards Brzesc.
It was the tenth of October. The weather being fine, a cloudless sun
diffused life and brilliancy through the pure air of a keen morning.
The vast green plain before them glittered with the troops of General
Ferfen, who had already arranged them in order of battle.
The word was given. Thaddeus, as he drew his sabre [Footnote: The
sabre (like the once famed claymore of Scotland) was the
characteristic weapon of Poland. It was the especial appendage to the
sides of the nobles;--its use, the science of their youth, their
ornament and graceful exercise in peace, their most efficient manual
power of attack or defence in war. It is impossible for any but an
eye-witness to have any idea of the skill, beauty, and determination
with which this weapon was, and is, wielded in Poland.] from its
scabbard, raised his eyes to implore the justice of Heaven on that
day's events. The attack was made. The Poles kept their station on
the heights. The Russians rushed on them like wolves, and twice they
repulsed them by their steadiness. Conquest declared for Poland.
Thaddeus was seen in every part of the field. But reinforcements
poured in to the support of Ferfen, and war raged in new horrors.
Still the courage of the Poles was unabated. Sobieski, fighting at
the head of his cavalry, would not recede a foot, and Kosciusko,
exhorting his men to be resolute, appeared in the hottest places of
the battle.
At one of these portentous moments, the commander-in-chief was seen
struggling with the third charger which had been shot under him that
day. Thaddeus galloped to his assistance, gave him his horse, mounted
another offered by a hussar, and remained fighting by his side, till,
on the next charge, Kosciusko himself fell forward. Thaddeus caught
him in his arms, and finding that his own breast was immediately
covered with blood, (a Cossack having stabbed the general through the
shoulder,) he unconsciously uttered a cry of horror. The surrounding
soldiers took the alarm, and "Kosciusko, our father, is killed!" was
echoed from rank to rank with such piercing shrieks, that the wounded
hero started from the breast of his young friend just as two Russian
chasseurs in the same moment made a cut at them both. The sabre
struck the exposed head of Kosciusko, who sunk senseless to the
ground, and Thaddeus received a gash near his neck that laid him by
his side.
The consternation became universal; groans of despair seemed to issue
from the whole army, whilst the few resolute Poles who had been
stationed near the fallen general fell in mangled heaps upon his
breast. Thaddeus with difficulty extricated himself from the bodies
of the slain; and, fighting his way through the triumphant troops
which pressed around him, amidst the smoke and confusion soon joined
his terror-stricken comrades, who in the wildest despair were
dispersing under a heavy fire, and flying like frighted deer. In vain
he called to them--in vain he urged them to avenge Kosciusko; the
panic was complete, and they fled.
Almost alone, in the rear of his soldiers, he opposed with his single
and desperate arm party after party of the enemy, until a narrow
stream of the Muchavez stopped his retreat. The waters were crimsoned
with blood. He plunged in, and beating the blushing wave with his
left arm, in a few seconds gained the opposite bank, where, fainting
from fatigue and loss of blood, he sunk, almost deprived of sense,
amidst a heap of the killed.
When the pursuing squadrons had galloped past him, he again summoned
strength to look round. He raised himself from the ground, and by the
help of his sabre supported his steps a few paces further; but what
was the shock he received when the bleeding and lifeless body of his
grandfather lay before him? He stood for a few moments motionless and
without sensation; then, kneeling down by his side, whilst he felt as
if his own heart were palsied with death, he searched for the wounds
of the palatine. They were numerous and deep. He would have torn away
the handkerchief with which he had stanched his own blood to have
applied it to that of his grandfather; but in the instant he was so
doing, feeling the act might the next moment disable himself from
giving him further assistance, he took his sash and neck-cloth, and
when they were insufficient, he rent the linen from his breast; then
hastening to the river, he brought a little water in his cap, and
threw some of its stained drops on the pale features of Sobieski.
The venerable hero opened his eyes; in a minute afterwards he
recognized that it was his grandson who knelt by him. The palatine
pressed his hand, which was cold as ice: the marble lips of Thaddeus
could not move.
"My son," said the veteran, in a low voice, "Heaven hath led you
hither to receive the last sigh of your grandfather." Thaddeus
trembled. The palatine continued; "Carry my blessing to your mother,
and bid her seek comfort in the consolations of her God. May that God
preserve you! Ever remember that you are his servant; be obedient to
him; and as I have been, be faithful to your country."
"May God so bless me!" cried Thaddeus, looking up to heaven.
"And ever remember," said the palatine, raising his head, which had
dropped on the bosom of his grandson, "that you are a Sobieski! it is
my dying command that you never take any other name."
"I promise."
Thaddeus could say no more, for the countenance of his grandfather
became altered; his eyes closed. Thaddeus caught him to his breast.
No heart beat against his; all was still and cold. The body dropped
from his arms, and he sunk senseless by its side.
When consciousness returned to him, he looked up. The sky was
shrouded in clouds, which a driving wind was blowing from the orb of
the moon, while a few of her white rays gleamed sepulchrally on the
weapons of the slaughtered soldiers.
The scattered senses of Thaddeus gradually returned to him. He was
now lying, the only living creature amidst thousands of the dead who,
the preceding night, had been, like himself, alive to all the
consciousness of existence! His right hand rested on the pale face of
his grandfather. It was wet with dew. He shuddered. Taking his own
cloak from his shoulders, he laid it over the body. He would have
said, as he did it, "So, my father, I would have sheltered thy life
with my own!" but the words choked in his throat, and he sat watching
by the corpse until the day dawned, and the Poles returned to bury
their slain.
The wretched Thaddeus was discovered by a party of his own hussars
seated on a little mound of earth, with the cold hand of Sobieski
grasped in his. At this sight the soldiers uttered a cry of dismay
and sorrow. Thaddeus rose up. "My friends," said he, "I thank God
that you are come! Assist me to bear my dear grandfather to the
camp."
Astonished at this composure, but distressed at the dreadful hue of
his countenance, they obeyed him in mournful silence, and laid the
remains of the palatine upon a bier, which they formed with their
sheathed sabres; then gently raising it, they retrod their steps to
the camp, leaving a detachment to accomplish the duty for which they
had quitted it. Thaddeus, hardly able to support his weakened frame,
mounted a horse and followed the melancholy procession.
General Wawrzecki, on whom the command had devolved, seeing the party
returning so soon, and in such an order, sent an aid-de-camp to
inquire the reason. He came back with dejection in his face, and
informed his commander that the brave Palatine of Masovia, whom they
supposed had been taken prisoner with his grandson and Kosciusko, was
the occasion of this sudden return; that he had been killed, and his
body was now approaching the lines on the arms of the soldiers.
Wawrzecki, though glad to hear that Thaddeus was alive and at
liberty, turned to conceal his tears; then calling out a guard, he
marched at their head to meet the corpse of his illustrious friend.
The bier was carried into the general's tent. An aid-de-camp and some
gentlemen of the faculty were ordered to attend Thaddeus to his
quarters; but the young count, though scarcely able to stand,
appeared to linger, and holding fast by the arm of an officer, he
looked steadfastly on the body. Wawrzecki understood his hesitation.
He pressed his hand. "Fear not, my dear sir," said he; "every honor
shall be paid to the remains of your noble grandfather." Thaddeus
bowed his head, and was supported out of the tent to his own.
His wounds, of which he had received several, were not deep; and
might have been of little consequence, had not his thoughts
continually hovered about his mother, and painted her affliction when
she should be informed of the lamentable events of the last day's
battle. These reflections, awake or in a slumber, (for he never
slept,) possessed his mind, and, even whilst his wounds were healing,
produced such an irritation in his blood as hourly threatened a
fever.
Things were in this situation, when the surgeon put a letter from the
countess into his hand. He opened it, and read with breathless
anxiety these lines:
"TO THADDEUS, COUNT SOBIESKI.
"Console yourself, my most precious son, console yourself for my
sake. I have seen Colonel Lonza, and I have heard all the horrors
which took place on the tenth of this month. I have heard them, and I
am yet alive. I am resigned. He tells me you are wounded. Oh! do not
let me be bereft of my son also! Remember that you were my dear
sainted father's darling; remember that, as his representative, you
are to be my consolation; in pity to me, if not to our suffering
country, preserve yourself to be at least the last comfort Heaven's
mercy hath spared to me. I find that all is lost to Poland as well as
to myself! that when my glorious father fell, and his friend with
him, even its name, as a country, became extinct. The allied invaders
are in full march towards Masovia, and I am too weak to come to you.
Let me see you soon, very soon, my beloved son. I beseech you to come
to me. You will find me feebler in body than in mind; for there is a
holy Comforter that descends on the bruised heart, which none other
than the unhappy have conceived or felt. Farewell, my dear, dear
Thaddeus! Let the memory that you have a mother check your too ardent
courage. God forever guard you! Live for your mother, who has no
stronger words to express her affection for you than she is thy
mother--thy
"THERESE SOBIESKI.
"VILLANOW, _October,_ 1794."
This letter was indeed a balm to the soul of Thaddeus. That his
mother had received intelligence of the cruel event with such "holy
resignation" was the best medicine that could now be applied to his
wounds, both of mind and body; and when he was told that on the
succeeding morning the body of his grandfather would, be removed to
the convent near Biala, he declared his resolution to attend it to
the grave.
In vain his surgeons and General Wawrzecki remonstrated against the
danger of this project; for once the gentle and yielding spirit of
Thaddeus was inflexible. He had fixed his determination, and it was
not to be shaken.
Next day, being the seventh from that in which the fatal battle had
been decided, Thaddeus, at the first beat of the drum, rose from his
pallet, and, almost unassisted, put on his clothes. His uniform being
black, he needed no other index than his pale and mournful
countenance to announce that he was chief mourner.
The procession began to form, and he walked from his tent. It was a
fine morning. Thaddeus looked up, as if to upbraid the sun for
shining so brightly. Lengthened and repeated rounds of cannon rolled
along the air. The solemn march of the dead was moaning from the
muffled drum, interrupted at measured pauses by the shrill tremor of
the fife. The troops, preceded by their general, moved forward with a
decent and melancholy step. The Bishop of Warsaw followed, bearing
the sacred volume in his hands; and next, borne upon the crossed
pikes of his soldiers, and supported by twelve of his veteran
companions, appeared the body of the brave Sobieski. A velvet pall
covered it, on which were laid those arms with which for fifty years
he had asserted the loyal independence of his country. At this sight
the sobs of the men became audible. Thaddeus followed with a slow but
firm step, his eyes bent to the ground and his arms wrapped in his
cloak; it was the same which had shaded his beloved grandfather from
the dews of that dreadful night. Another train of solemn music
succeeded; and then the squadrons which the deceased had commanded
dismounted, and, leading their horses, closed the procession.
On the verge of the plain that borders Biala, and within a few paces
of the convent gate of St. Francis, the bier stopped. The monks
saluted its appearance with a requiem, which they continued to chant
till the coffin was lowered into the ground. The earth received its
sacred deposit. The anthems ceased; the soldiers, kneeling down,
discharged their muskets over it; then, with streaming cheeks, rose
and gave place to others. Nine volleys were fired, and the ranks fell
back. The bishop advanced to the head of the grave. All was hushed.
He raised his eyes to heaven; then, after a pause, in which he seemed
to be communing with the regions above him, he turned to the silent
assembly, and, in a voice collected and impressive, addressed them in
a short but affecting oration, in which he set forth the brightness
of Sobieski's life, his noble forgetfulness of self in the interests
of his country, and the dauntless bravery which laid him in the dust.
A general discharge of cannon was the awful response to this appeal.
Wawrzecki took the sabre of the palatine, and, breaking it, dropped
it into the grave. The aids-de-camp of the deceased did the same with
theirs, showing that by so doing they resigned their offices; and
then, covering their faces with their handkerchiefs, they turned away
with the soldiers, who filed off. Thaddeus sunk on his knees. His
hands were clasped, and his eyes for a few minutes fixed themselves
on the coffin of his grandfather; then rising, he leaned on the arm
of Wawrzecki, and with a tottering step and pallid countenance,
mounted his horse, which had been led to the spot, and returned with
the scattered procession to the camp.
The cause for exertion being over, his spirits fell with the rapidity
of a spring too highly wound up, which snaps and runs down to
immobility. He entered his tent and threw himself on the bed, from
which he did not raise for the five following days.