"We are brethren!"
After the termination of the Count Sobieski's first Easter passed
with the beloved of his soul in the home of her ancestors, they
proceeded together to join Sir Robert Somerset, and their kind aunt
Miss Dorothy, in Grosvenor Square, to become again his welcome
guests, and always thereafter when in town, while Heaven prolonged
their lives to renew the cherished reunion at each succeeding season.
Thus it was that, immediately subsequent to the holy festival, the
now revered Lord of Beaufort cheerfully obeyed his father's summons
to London, where he found Pembroke and Lady Albina already resettled
in their former residence. Having ere long met the gratulatory calls
of his metropolitan friends, he daily beheld his lovely bride--lovely
in mind as in person--becoming more and more "the worshipped cynosure
of neighboring eyes;" not only adorning the highest circles of
society, but filling his home with all the ineffable charms of a
wedded life, inspired by the gentle graces of domestic tenderness.
One balmy evening in May, when he and his young countess were driving
out alone together, which they sometimes did, that she might have the
delight of showing to him the varied rural environs of the great and
gay royal city of England, the carriage, by her direction, took its
course towards Primrose Hill, then crowned by a grove of "fair elm-
trees," and clothed with a vesture of green sward, enamelled with
wild flowers. Thence the light vehicle threaded a maze of shady lanes
and pleasant field-paths, into a rustic, newly-made road, leading a
little to the north of Covent Garden. [Footnote: All this has since
become Regent's Park and its dependencies, whether streets or
squares.]
Mary proposed stopping a few minutes in that magnificent general
garden of the town, to purchase a bouquet of early roses, to present
to Sir Robert on their return from their drive.
When the carriage drew up at the entrance of the great parterre, she
stepped out to select them. Having quickly combined their fragrant
beauties, she put the nosegay into the hand of one of the servants to
place on the seat. Being nigh the church porch, she suddenly
expressed a wish to her husband, on whose arm she leaned, to walk
through the church-yard, and that the carriage should meet them at
the opposite gate.
Thaddeus, not being aware that this porch belonged to the church
where his veteran friend had been buried, gave instant assent; and
before he had time to make more than a few remarks on the pure
religious architecture of the building, which he thought had
attracted his tasteful bride to take a nearer view, she had led him
unconsciously to the general's grave. But it was no longer the same
as when Sobieski last stood by its side. A simple white marble tomb
now occupied the place of its former long grass and yarrow.
Surprised, he bent forward, and read with brimming eyes the following
inscription:--
1795-6.
Stop, Traveller! Thou treadest on a Hero.
Here rest the mortal remains
of
LIEUTENANT-GENERAL BUTZOU,
Late of the Kingdom of Poland.
A faithful soldier to his Lord and to his country!
He sleeps in Faith and Hope!
Thaddeus for a moment felt as he did when he beheld those "mortal
remains" laid there. But his own faith in that hope which consecrated
this mortality to an immortal resurrection had then silently spread
the balm of its full assurance overall those remembered pangs; and
now, without speaking, he led his also pensive and tremulous
companion to her carriage, where it awaited them, and seating her
within it, clasped her to his breast. His tears, no longer
restrained, poured those sweet pledges of a soul-felt approbation
into her bosom that made it even ache with excess of happiness. But
while the grateful voice of her husband was beginning to breathe its
uttered thanks, he found the carriage stop again, in a street not far
distant from the one they had just quitted. It drew up at the door of
a handsome house, of an apparently contemporary structure with the
church. It was the rectory of St. Paul's, Covent Garden and at its
portal stood the reverend incumbent, evidently awaiting to receive
his guests.
Thaddeus perceived him, and also the welcome of his position; so did
his gentle wife, who with a blushing smile explained all the
alterations he had observed on the respected grave, avowing that they
had been done at her devoted wish, and were effected by the kind
agency of that venerable man, the rector of the church, the Honorable
Bruce Fitz-James. She then timidly added, (and how beautiful in that
timidity!) she had something more to confess; she had ventured, after
obtaining permission of the rector for the erection of the monument,
to see it once during its progress, and then to promise him that on
its completion her honored husband, the Count Sobieski, whose
parental friend that noble dead had been, would, when she revealed
her secret to him, pay a personal visit along with herself to her
beneficent coadjutor, and duly express their united gratitude. She
had scarcely spoken her rapid information, when its courteous object
descended the portal to approach the carriage. His hat was taken off,
and the snow-white hair, blown suddenly by a gust of wind across his
benign brow, a little obscured his face, while he conducted the lady
from the carriage up the steps of his door. But Sobieski found no
difficulty in recognizing the time-blanched locks, which had been
wetted by the weeping heavens in that hour of his lonely sorrow,
whilst committing to the dust the remains of him whose sacred
memorial he had just contemplated, raised by a wife's clear hand.
With these recollections had arisen the image of the pale,
delicately-formed boy who had gazed so compassionately into his eyes
while taking as he thought his last look at that humble grave; and
with this bland recurrence came also the almost closing words of the
solemn service, seeming again to proclaim to his heart, "I heard a
voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, From henceforth blessed are
the dead who die in the Lord!"
With calmed feelings and perfectly recovered self-possession,
Thaddeus now followed his beloved wife (his solace and his joy), led
by her delighted host, into the bright-panelled parlor of the
rectory, where the mutual introduction instantly took place.
The beneficent old man, with a polished sincerity, declared his high
gratification at this visit from the Count Sobieski, brought to him
by the gracious lady who so deservedly shared his illustrious name.
Thaddeus, with his usual modest dignity, received the implied
compliment, and expressed his just sense of the deep obligation
conferred on him and his countess by the last consecrated rite to the
memory of his most revered friend.
Mary was then seated on an old-fashioned silk-embroidered settee,
opposite to the flower-latticed bay-window of the apartment. The
rector, with a courteous bow, which in his youth would have been
called graceful, as if confident of a permitted privilege, placed
himself beside her, while observing to her lord, in reply to these
unfeigned thanks, that, "the reported name alone of the veteran
patriot who lay there had not ceased from the day of his interment to
attract, shrine-like, the pilgrim feet of many persons to the spot
who respected and bewailed the fate of Poland."
Sobieski's cheek flushed and his eye kindled at this testimony. To
change a subject which he found wrought too powerfully on the
recently-regained serenity of his mind, he affectionately inquired
for the amiable boy he had seen take so touching an interest in the
mournful errand to the church-yard on that ever-remembered day, and
who, like a ministering seraph, had so guardingly watched the exposed
head of his revered master, under the pitiless element then pouring
down.
"He is my nephew," returned the rector, in a tone of tenderness:
"Lord Edward Fitz-James. He is in delicate health; the youngest son
of my eldest brother, the Marquis Fitz-James, who married late in
life. Edward is, indeed, what he appears, a spirit of innocent, happy
love, or of condoling commiseration, wherever his gentle footsteps
move. And when I rejoin him this autumn, at his father's house in
Scotland, and shall tell him that the never-forgotten chief mourner
at that simple bier, with whom his own young tears fell in
spontaneous sympathy, was the Count Sobieski--a kinsman of his own,
whose character was already known to him in its youthful fame and by
its honored name--what will be that meek child's exulting ecstasy!"
"A kinsman of that noble boy!" echoed Thaddeus, in surprise. "How may
I flatter myself it can be so?"
Mary simultaneously uttered an amazed ejaculation of pleasure at the
idea of any real relationship between that venerable man and herself;
and he, with an answering look of kindred respect on both the
astonished husband and his bride, replied to the former with the
unstudied brevity of truth.
"A few sentences will explain it, for I consider it unnecessary to
remind my present auditors of two great events in their respective
countries. First, with regard to England; the change of royal
succession in the Stuart line, from the branch of which James the
Second was the head, to that of Brunswick-a backward step,
originating in Elizabeth of Bohemia, the daughter of James the First,
and therefore, the aunt of James the Second. At the height of these
eventful circumstances, the offended sovereign retired with his
exemplary queen and their infant son to the continent. There the
royal boy continued to be styled, by his father's adherents, James
Prince of Wales, but in the general world was usually known by the
cognizance of the Chevalier St. George.
"This is the first link in our bracelet, noble lady!" observed the
narrator, with a smile, and then proceeded. "I now advance to my
second part, the crisis of which took place in Poland, about the same
period. At the death of the great John Sobieski, King of Poland, the
father of his people, there arose a deep-rooted conspiracy in certain
neighboring states, jealous of his late power and glorious name,
determining to undermine the accession of his family to the throne;
and they found an apt soil to work on in a corresponding feeling
ready to break out amongst some of the most influential nobles of the
realm. Foreign and domestic revolutionists soon understand each
other; and the dynasty of Sobieski being speedily overturned by the
double treason of pretended friends and false allies, his three
princely sons withdrew from occasioning the dire conflict of a civil
war, two into distant lands, the other to the ancestral patrimony, in
provinces far from the intrigues of ambition or the temptation of its
treacherous lures.
"The two elder brothers, in a natural indignation against the popular
ingratitude, took the expatriating destination. But Constantine, the
youngest born, with the calm dignity of a son without other desired
inheritance than the honor of such a parent, retired to the tranquil
seclusion of the castled domain of Olesko, the ancient fortified
palace of his progenitors, on the Polish border of Red Russia; and
there, in philosophic quiet, he passed his blameless days with
science and the arts, and in deeds of true Christian benevolence-the
purport of his life. This respected seclusion was ultimately sweetly
cheered when "woman smiled" upon it, in the form of a fair daughter
of a neighboring magnate in the adjacent province, whose noble
retirement, sharing the same patriotic principles with those of
Constantine, yielded to the young philosopher a lovely helpmate for
him.
"Prince James, his eldest brother, had meanwhile married a sister of
their early associate in arms, the brave Charles of Newburg, when
under the royal banner of Sobieski, in the memorable field of Vienna.
Alexander, the second son, also met with a distinguished bride in
Germany. Both princes were accomplished and handsome men; but one of
our countrymen, contemporary and family physician to the late king,
familiarly describes them in his curious reminiscences, thus:--'His
majesty possessed a fine figure; he was tall and graceful. The
nobleness and elevation of his soul were deeply depicted in his
countenance and air. Prince James is dark-complexioned, slender in
person, and more like a Spaniard than a Pole; he is very social,
courteous and liberal. Alexander is of more manly proportions, and of
a true Sarmatian physiognomy. But Constantine is an exact likeness of
the king, his father.'" [Footnote: The writer of this note has seen a
magnificent picture of that glorious king, a full length, the stature
of life. It was nobly painted by an artist of the period.]
"And such was my ever-revered grandsire, his only son!" responded the
heart of Thaddeus, but he did not utter the words. Meanwhile, the
enthusiastic historiographer of a period he was so seldom called to
touch on proceeded without a pause.
"In process of time, one fair scion from this illustrious stock
became engrafted on our former royal stem. I mean her highness the
Lady Clementina, the daughter of Prince James of Poland, who, after
his rejection of all foreign aid to re-establish him in his father's
kingdom, had, like the abdicated monarch of England, gone about a
resigned pilgrim, 'seeking a better country,' till the two families
auspiciously met, to brighten each other's remainder of earthly
sojourn at St. Germains, in France. Then came the 'sweet bindwith,'
the royal maid, the Prince Sobieski's beauteous daughter, to give her
nuptial hand to the only son of the exiled king; and so, most
remarkably, was united the equally extraordinary destinies of the
regal race of the heroic John Sobieski with that of our anointed
warrior, Robert Bruce, in the person of his princely descendant,
James Fitz-James, in diplomatic parlance styled the Chevalier de St.
George; and from that blended blood, and by family connection, sprung
from the same branching tree, I feel sanguinely confident that the
claim I have set up for myself and gentle nephew, whose kindred
spirit the warm heart of the Count Sobieski has already acknowledged,
will not be deemed an old man's dream."
A short silence ensued.
Thaddeus had been riveted with an almost breathless attention to this
part of the narrative, some of its public circumstances having found
a dim recollection in his mind; but his apprehensive mother had
always turned him aside from any line in his historical reading which
might particularly engage his ever-wakeful interest to the chivalrous
nation of his own never-avowed parentage, and from which a father's
desertion had expatriated him even before his birth. But now, how
ample had been the atonement, the restitution, to this forsaken son?
Not being able to express any of the kindled feelings this narration
had suggested, added to the daily increasing claims the blessing of
such an atonement were hourly making on his best affections, he could
only grasp the hand of the venerated speaker with a fervent pressure
when he ceased. But Mary, irradiating smiles, the emanating light of
her soul then at her Maker's feet, gently breathed her ardent
felicitations at what she had just heard, which had indeed
established her kindred with the venerated friend whose kindness had
met her so unreservedly as a stranger.
When the little party so signally brought together, to become
mutually entwined, as if already known to each other for years
instead of minutes,--when they became composed, after the excited
emotions of the disclosure had subsided, the reverend host, now
considering the count and countess rather as young cousins to be
honored than as guests to be entertained, conversed awhile more
particularly with regard to the marquis and his family, and finally
accepted, with declared pleasure, the earnest invitation of his
gladly responsive new relatives to accompany them the following day,
when they would call for him in their carriage, to dine with their
dearest guardian and parental friend, Sir Robert Somerset.
"He is my Mary's maternal uncle," remarked Thaddeus, with a calm
emphasis, "and has been to me as a father in this her adopted land. I
found a brother, also, in his admirable son, Mr. Somerset, whom, with
his young bride, you will meet to-morrow at Sir Robert's family
table. Hence, my revered kinsman, you see what England still does in
her kind bosom for a remnant of the race of Sobieski."
The appointed hour next day arrived. The count called for his friend,
who was ready at the door of the rectory mansion, and, after much
interesting conversation during the drive, conducted him into the
presence of the baronet. Sir Robert greeted his guest in perfect
harmony with the filial eloquence of Sobieski, in describing his
adopted father's ever-gracious heart, and consequent benignant
manners. Thaddeus had repeated to Sir Robert the revealments of
yesterday's visit to the honorable and reverend rector of St. Paul's,
which had so stirringly mingled with his own most cherished memories.
The cordial reception thus given to the revered narrator gratified
him, as a full repayment for his imparted confidence of the day
before, though he could not be aware of the real paternal fountain
from which these warm welcomes flowed. But Thaddeus recognized it in
every word, look, and act of his beloved father, and with his mother
in his heart, he appreciated all.
Dr. Cavendish and Dr. Blackmore had been added to the party. Sincere
esteem, with an ever-grateful recollection of the past, always spread
the board of Sobieski for the former, whenever he might have leisure
to enrich it with his highly intellectual store. Dr. Blackmore had
arrived the preceding evening with Lord Avon, grown a fine youth, to
pass a few days with his patron and friend, Sir Robert Somerset, on
his way to transfer his noble charge to the tutorage of the fully
competent, though young, vicar of Beaufort, Mr. Tillotson. Lord Avon
was to reside in the vicarage, but would also possess the constant
personal care of his friends at the Castle, and a home invitation to
visit there, with his accomplished tutor, whenever it should be
agreeable to Mr. Tillotson to bring him.
The rector of St. Paul's and the recently inducted rector of Somerset
(whither he was proceeding after he should have deposited his young
lordship at Beaufort) were respectively introduced to each other--
worthy brethren in the pure church they were equally qualified to
support and to adorn.
When dinner was announced, the Rev. Bruce Fitz-James received the
hand of the cheerful Miss Dorothy to lead her down. She had given him
a frank greeting of relationship on his being presented to her, as
mistress of her brother's house, on his first entrance into the
drawing room. During the social repast, much elegant and intellectual
conversation took place, and promises were solicited, both then and
after the banquet, by the members of the family group from their
several guests for visits at the seasons most pleasant to themselves,
to Deerhurst, to Somerset, and to Beaufort. The venerable Fitz-James
and his young nephew were particularly besought by Thaddeus and his
Mary, who anticipated a peculiar delight in becoming intimately
acquainted with that interesting boy. Lord Avon they hoped might
prove a companionable attraction to the latter.
The invitations were cordially accepted, the paternal uncle of the
young Lord Edward not doubting the ready approbation of his brother,
the marquis. And it was arranged that both at Beaufort and at
Deerhurst the whole of the baronet's family group should be
assembled, including Mr. Somerset and his gentle lady, whose placid
graces moved round his ever sparkling vivacity with a softly-
tempering shade.
Thus, day after day, week after week, while continuing in town, time
passed on in the alternate interchanges of domestic tranquillity and
the active exercises of those duties to society in general, and to
the important demands of public claims on the present stations of the
several individuals on whom such calls were made.
Nor in the country, when returned to their separate dwelling-places,
did the same happy and honorable routine cease its genial round.
Pembroke's most stationary residence was Somerset Castle, his
father's beneficent representative, whose favorite home was
Deerhurst. And thus mutually endeared, and worthy of their Heaven-
bestowed stewardship, we leave the family of Sir Robert Somerset.
We leave Thaddeus Sobieski, now one of its most beloved members,
blessed in the fruition of every earthly good. The virtues, the
muses, and the charities were the chosen guests at his abundant
table. Poverty could not veil genius from his penetration, nor
misfortune obscure the inborn light of its integrity. Though exiled
from his native land, where his birth gave him dominion over rich
territories, now in the hands of strangers, and a numerous happy
people, now no more, he had not yet relinquished the love of empire.
But it was not over principalities and embattled hosts that he
desired to prolong the sceptre of command. He wished to reign in the
soul. His throne was sought in the hearts of the good, the kind, the
men of honest industry, and the unfortunate, on whom prosperity had
frowned. In fact, the unhappy of every degree and nation found
consolation, refuge, and repose within the sheltering domains of
Beaufort. No eye looked wistfully on him to turn away disappointed;
his smiles cheered the disconsolate, and his protecting arms warded
off, when possible, the approach of new sorrows. "Peace was within
his walls, and plenteousness within his palaces."
And when a few eventful months of the succeeding year had
distinguished its course with the death of the imperious destroyer of
Poland, and General Kosciusko (having been set at liberty by her
generous successor, and honorably empowered to go whither he willed)
had arrived in England on his way to the United States, he sought and
found Thaddeus, his young comrade in the fields of Poland, and was
hailed with the warmest welcome by that now indeed truly "comforted"
brave and last representative of the noble race and name of the glory
of his country, the more than once Gideon-shield of Christendom--John
Sobieski.
"Ah, my chief!" cried he, while he clasped the veteran to his breast,
"I am indeed favored above mortals. I see thee again, on whom I
believed the gates of a ruthless prison had closed forever! I have
all that remains of my country now within my arms. Kosciusko, my
friend, my father, bless your son!"
Kosciusko did bless him, and embalmed the benediction with a shower
of tears more precious than the richest unction that ever flowed on a
royal head. They were drawn from a Christian soldier's heart--a true
patriot and a hero.
Sobieski presented his lovely wife to this illustrious friend, and
while he gratefully acknowledged the rare felicity of his ultimate
fate, he owned that the retrospection of the past calamity, like a
shade in a picture, gives to our present bliss greater force and
brightness. But that such felicity was his, he could only ascribe to
the gracious providence of God, who "trieth the spirit of man," and
can bring him to a joy on earth even like unto a resurrection from
the dead. And the conclusion is not even then; "there remaineth yet a
better life, and a better country for those who trust in the Lord of
earth and heaven!"
APPENDIX.
NOTES
CHIEFLY RELATING TO GENERAL KOSCIUSKO.
NOTES
The writer prefaces these notes with the following dedicatory tribute
she inscribed to the memory of this illustrious chief in a former but
subsequent edition, some years after the first publication of the
work. It runs thus:--
THADDEUS OF WARSAW.
THIS TENTH EDITION IS HUMBLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO THE
MEMORY OF THE LATE JUSTLY REVERED AND RENOWNED
General Thaddeus Kosciusko.
"The spirit of war between nation and nation, and between man and man
in those nations, for public supremacy on the one side and private
aggrandizement on the other, being still as much the character of the
times as in the days when the preceding biographical tale of Poland
was written, the author continues to feel the probable consequences
of such a crisis in forming the future principles of manly British
youth--a feeling which was the origin of the work itself.
"Its direct aim being to draw a distinguishing line between the
spirit of true patriotism and that of ambitious public discontent,--
between real glory, which arises from benefits bestowed, and the
false fame of acquired conquests, which a leader of banditti has as
much right to arrogate as would the successful invader of kingdoms,--
the character of General Kosciusko, under these views, presented
itself to the writer as the completest exemplar for such a picture.
"Enthusiasm attempted to supply the pencil of genius, and though the
portraiture be imperfectly sketched, yet its author has been
gratified by the sympathy of readers, not only of her own people, but
of those of distant nations; and that the principles of heroic virtue
which she sought to inculcate in her narrative were pronounced by its
great patriot subject, in a letter he addressed to herself, 'as
worthy of his approbation and esteem,' seems, now that he is removed
from all earthly influence, to sanction her paying that honest homage
to his memory which delicacy forbade her doing while he lived.
"The first publication of this work was inscribed to a British hero,
'a land commander and a tar,' whose noble nature well deserved the
title bestowed upon it by his venerable sovereign, George III.,
('Coeur-de-Lion.') He, a brother in spirit, fully appreciated the
character of Thaddeus Kosciusko, and the writer of this devoted
tribute feels that she deepens the tints of honor on each name by
thus associating them together. But may the tomb of the British hero
be long in finding its place! That of the Polish patriot has already
received its sacred deposit, and with the sincere oblation of a not
quite stranger's heart, this poor offering is laid on the grave of
him who fought for 'his country's freedom, laws, and native king;'
who, when riches and a crown were proffered to himself by the then
dictator of almost all Europe, declined both, because no price could
buy the independence of an honest man.
"Such was General Kosciusko; such was the model of disinterestedness,
of tempered valor, and of public virtue which his annalist sought to
set forth in the foregoing pages; such was the man who honored their
narrator with his approval and esteem! and in that last word she
feels a privilege, but with due humility, to thus link some little
memorial of herself to after times, by so uniting to the name of
Thaddeus Kosciusko that of his humble but sincere aspirer to such
themes,
"JANE PORTER.
"LONG-DITTON ON-THAMES, September, 1819."
Since the above inscription was first written and inscribed in the
former edition, the brave and benign "Christian knight," the Coeur-
de-Lion of our own times, has also been gathered to the tears of his
country, and his monumental statue, as if standing on the victorious
mount of St. Jean d'Acre, is now preparing to be set up, with its
appropriate sacred trophies, in the great Naval Hall at Greenwich. It
is understood that his mortal remains will be removed from the Pere
la Chaise in Paris, where they now lie, to finally rest in St. Paul's
Cathedral, where Nelson sleeps. Kosciusko's tomb is at Cracow, the
ancient capital of Poland; and in the manner of its most ancient
style of sepulchre, it appears an immense earthen tumulus, piled over
the simple-mounded grave, which accumulating portions were severally
borne to their hallowed place in the arms alone of each silent
mourner, in a certain number of successive days, till the whole was
raised into a grand pyramidal mass.
In looking back through the avenue of life to those periods the tale
tells of, what events have occurred, public and private, to the
countries and the individuals referred to in these memoranda! to
persons of lofty names and excellence, both in our own and in other
lands, mutually affected with admiration and regret for the virtues
and the calamities described. It is an awful contemplation, and in
sitting down in my now solitary chamber to its retrospection, I find
that nearly half a century has passed since its transactions swept
over Europe like a desolating blast. Then I wrote my little chronicle
when the birthright independence of Poland was no more; when she lay
in her ashes, and her mighty men were trodden into the dust; when the
pall of death overspread the country, and her widows and her orphans
wandered afar into the trackless wilderness of a barren world.
During this wide expatriation, some distinguished captives, who had
fallen in the field, and were counted among the slain, having been
found by the victors alive in their stiffened blood, were conveyed to
various prisons; and along with these was discovered the justly
feared, and not less justly deplored, General Kosciusko, who, though
long unheard of by the lone wanderers of his scattered host, had been
thus preserved by the supreme Lord of all, to behold again a remnant
of his own brightened in hope, and comforted by the honoring sympathy
of the good and brave in many nations.
Kosciusko was of noble birth, and early distinguished himself by his
spirit and talents for the martial field. Indeed, owing to the
belligerent position of Poland, situated in the midst of jealous and
encroaching nations, arms was the natural profession of every
gentleman in the kingdom, commerce and agriculture being the usual
pursuits of the middle classes. But it happened, in the early manhood
of Thaddeus Kosciusko, that the dangerous political Stromboli which
surrounded his country, and often aroused an answering blaze in that
since devoted land, slept in their fires; and Poland being at peace,
her young military students, becoming desirous of practising their
science in some actual campaign, resolved to try their strength
across the Atlantic. Hearing of the war then just commenced between
the British Colonies in America and the mother country, Kosciusko, as
a deciding spirit amongst his ardent associates, brought them to this
resolution. Losing no time, they embarked, passed over the wide ocean
of the Western world, and landing safe and full of their object,
offered their services to the army of independence. Having been
readily accepted, and immediately applied to use, the extraordinary
warrior talents of Kosciusko soon shone conspicuous, and were
speedily honored by his being appointed special aide-de-camp to
General Washington. His subsequent conduct in the camp and field was
consonant to its beginning, and he became a distinguished general in
rank and command long before his volunteered military services had
terminated. When the war ended, in the peace of mutual concessions
between the national parent and its children on a distant land, (a
point that is the duty of all Christian states to consider, and to
measure their ultimate conduct by,) the Poles returned to their own
country, where they soon met circumstances which caused them to call
forth their recently passed experience for her. But they had not
departed from the newly-established American State without
demonstrations of its warm gratitude; and Koscuisko, in particular,
with his not less popular compatriot and friend, Niemcivitz, the
soldier and the poet, bore away with them the pure esteem of the
brave population, the sighs of private friendship, and the tears of
an abiding regret from many fair eyes.
To recapitulate the memorable events of the threatened royal freedom
of Poland, by the three formidable foreign powers confederated for
its annihilation, and in repelling which General Kosciusko took so
gallant a lead, is not here necessary to connect our memoranda
concerning his unreceding struggles to maintain her political
existence. They have already been sketched in the preceding little
record of the actual scenes in which he and his equally devoted
compeers held their indomitable resistance till the fatal issue.
"Sarmatia lay in blood!" and the portion of that once great bulwark
of civilized Europe was adjudged by the paricidal victors to
themselves: a sentence like unto that passed on the worst of
criminals was thus denounced against Christendom's often best
benefactor, while the rest of Europe stood silently by, paralyzed or
appalled, during the immediate execution of the noble victim.
But though dismembered and thrown out from the "map of nations" by
the combination of usurping ambition and broken faith, and no longer
to be regarded as one in its "proud cordon," Poland retained within
herself (as has been well observed by a contemporary writer) "a mode
of existence unknown till then in the history of the world--a
domestic national vitality." Unknown, we may venture to say, except
in one extraordinary yet easily and reverentially understood
instance. We mean the sense of an integral national being, ever-
living in the bosoms of the people of Israel, throughout all their
different dispersions and captivities. And, perhaps, with respect to
this principle of a moral, political, and filial life, still drawing
its aliment from the inhumed heart of their mother-country, who, to
them, "is not dead but sleepeth!" may be explained, in some degree,
in reference to the above remark on the existing and individual
feeling amongst the wanderers of Poland, by considering some of the
best effects, latent in their "working together for good," in the
deep experience of her ancient variously-constituted modes of civil
government.
Under that of her early monarchs, the Piasts and their senate, she
sat beneath an almost patriarchal sceptre, they being native and
truly parental princes. John Sobieski was one of this description by
descent and just rule. Under the Jagellon dynasty, also sprung from
the soil, she held a yet more generalizing constitutional code, after
which she gradually adopted certain republican forms, with an
elective king--a strange contradiction in the asserted object, a
sound system for political freedom, but which, in fact, contained the
whole alchemy of a nation's "anarchical life," and ultimately
produced the entire destruction of the state. From the established
date of the elective monarchy, the kingdom became an arena for every
species of ambitious rivalry, and its sure consequences, the
interference of foreign influences; and hence rapidly advanced the
decline of the true independent spirit of the land, to stand in her
laws, and in her own political strength; her own impartial laws, the
palladium of the people and a native king the parental guardian of
their just administration. But, in sad process of time, "strangers of
Rome, of Gaul, and of other nations," in whose veins not a drop of
Sclavonian blood flowed, found means to successively seat themselves
on the throne of the Piasts, the Jagellons, and the Sobieskis, of
ancient Sarmatia; and the revered fabric fell, as by an earthquake,
to be registered no more amongst the kingdoms of the world.
THE EARLY EDUCATION OF KOSCIUSKO AND HIS COMPATRIOTS, WITH ITS
SUBSEQUENT EFFECTS ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THEIR LIVES.
Though their country appeared thus lost to them, they felt its
kingdom still in their minds--in the bosom of memory, in the
consciousness of an ancestry of bravery and of virtue; and though the
soil had passed away from the feet of those whose ancestors of "sword
or share" had trod it as sons and owners, and it now holds no place
for them but their fathers' graves, yet the root is deep in such
planting, and the tree, though invisible to the world, is seen and
nourished in the depths of their hearts by the dews of heaven.
The pages of universal history, sacred and profane, ancient and
modern, when opened with the conviction that He who made the world
governs it also, will best explain the _why_ of these changes in
the destiny of nations; and within half of the latter part of the
last century, and the nearly half of the present, awful have been the
pages to be read. Hence we may understand the vital influence of the
objects of education with regard to the principles inculcated,
whether with relation to individual interest or to the generalized
consideration of a people as a commonwealth or a kingdom. A kingdom
and a commonwealth may be considered the same thing, when the power
of both people and king are limited by just laws, established by the
long exercised wisdom of the nation, holding the whole powers of the
state in equilibrium; and in this sense, meaning "a royal
commonwealth," comprising, as in England, "kings, lords, and
commons," it is generally believed is intended to be understood the
term, "The republic of Poland, with its king."
The Polish nation, however, under all their dominions of government,
usually partook something of the policies and manners of the then
existing times. Yet they were always distinguished by a particular
chivalry of character, a brave freedom from all foreign and domestic
vassalage, and a generous disposition to respect and to assist the
neighboring nations to maintain the same independence they themselves
enjoyed. Though actual schools, or colleges, or written lore, might
not originally have had much to do with it, the continued practice of
old, well-formed customs held them in "the ways their fathers walked
in" and they found them those of "pleasantness" and true honor. But
the time came when literary dictation was to take the place of oral
tradition, and of habitual imitative reverence of the past. Schools
and colleges were instituted, teaching for doctrines the prevailing
sentiments of the endowers, or of the instructors employed. During
the reigns of the later sovereigns of the Jagellon dynasty, Sigismund
I. and II., and that of their predecessor, John Sobieski, the
principles of these seminaries might be considered sound. But soon
after the death of the last-named monarch, when the latent mischief
contained in the Utopian idea of the perfection of an always elective
monarchy began to shake the stability of even the monarchy itself,
certain of the public teachers evinced correspondent signs of this
destructive species of freemasonry; and about the same period the
Voltaire venom of infidelity against all the laws of God and man
being poured throughout the whole civilized world, the general effect
had so banefully reached the seats of national instruction in Poland,
that several of the most venerated personages, whose names have
already been, commemorated in the preceding biographical story,
congregated together to stem, by a counteracting current, the torrent
where they saw it likely to overflow; to sap up its introduced
sources, by obtaining the abolition of some of the most subtle and
dangerous of the scholastic institutions, and the establishment of
others in their room, on the sound foundation of moral and religious
polity between men and nations.
The sole remaining princely descendants of the three just referred
to, true patriot-monarchs, were the earliest awakened to resist the
spirit of evil spreading amongst all classes in the nation. The
Czartoryski and the Zamoyski race, both of the Jagellon line, and
near kinsmen to the then newly raised monarch to the Polish throne,
Stanislaus Poniatowski, appeared like twin stars over the darkened
field, and the whole aspect of the country seemed speedily changed. A
contemporary writer bears record that one hundred and twenty-seven
provincial colleges were founded, perfected, and supported by them
and their patriotic colleagues; while the University of Vilna was
judiciously and munificently organized by its prince palatine, Adam
Czartoryski himself, and a statute drawn up which declared it "an
open high-school from the supreme board of public education for all
the Polish provinces." Herein was every science exalting to the
faculties of man, and conducive to his sacred aspirations, seriously
and diligently inculcated; and every principle of morality and
religion, purifying to his mixed nature, and therefore calculated to
establish him in the answering conduct, truth, justice, and loyal
obedience to the hereditary revered laws of the nation, equally
instilled, qualifying him to uphold them, and to defend their freedom
from all offensive operations at home or abroad, intended to subvert
the purity of their code or the integrity of their administration.
Such was the import of the implied vow on entering the university.
Amongst the gallant youths brought up in such a school of public
virtue was Thaddeus Kosciusko and the young Timotheus Niemcivitz, his
friend from youth to age. Kosciusko, as has already been said, was of
noble parentage; and to be the son of a Polish nobleman was to be
born a soldier, and its practical education, with sabre and lance,
his daily pastime. But military studies were included in these
various colleges, and the friends soon became as mutually expert in
arms as they ever after continued severally distinguished in the
fields of their country with sword or lyre. Besides, neither of the
young cavaliers passed quite away from their _alma mater_
without having each received the completing accolade of "true
knighthood" by the stroke of "fealty to honor!" from the inaugurating
sunbeam of some lovely woman's eye. Such befell the youthful
Kosciusko, one bright evening, in a large and splendid circle of "the
beautiful and brave" at Vilna; and it never lessened its full rays in
his chivalric heart, from that hour devoted to the angel-like unknown
who had shed them on him, and who had seemed to doubly consecrate the
ardors of his soul to his country--her country--the country of all he
loved and honored upon earth. How he wrought out this silent vow is a
story of deep interest--equally faithful to his patriotic loyalty and
to his ever-cherished love; and in some subsequent reminiscences of
the hero, should the writer live to touch a Polish theme again, they
may be related with additional honor to his memory.
Brief was the time after the preceding sealing scene of the young
Kosciusko for his military vocation took place, before himself and
his friend Niemcivitz--who had also received his "anointing spell,"
which he gayly declared came by more bright eyes than he would dare
whisper to their possessors--made a joint arrangement to quit the
study of arms, though thus cheered on by the Muses and the Graces,
and at once enter the exercise in some actual field of rugged war.
The newly-opened dispute between Great Britain and her colonies in
North America seemed calculated for their honorable practice.
Consulting some of their most respected friends, they speedily found
means to cross the seas, and shared the first great campaign under
Washington. The issue of that campaign, and those which followed it,
need not be repeated here; suffice it to say, the hard-fought contest
ended in a treaty of peace between the parent country and its
contumacious offspring, in the year 1783, with England's
acknowledgment of their independence, under the name of the United
States of America.
The two gallant Poles returned to Europe, and onward to their own
country, by a route tracked by former brave deeds; through France,
Germany, and other lands, marked by the Gustavuses, the Montecuculi,
the Turennes, the Condes, the Marlboroughs, the Eugenes, champions
alike of national peace and national glory on those widely-extended
plains and bulwarked frontiers, till the belligerent clouds of a
still more threatening hostility than any of those repelled invasions
were seen hovering luridly over their own beloved country. Warned
thus, during their pleasant travel, of the coming events whose
shadows seemed to rise on every side of Poland, in forms appalling to
the luxurious, the avaricious, the indolently selfish, of every
description in the land, but which only roused and nerved the hearts
and arms of her two sons, courageous in the simplicity of their
purpose--Poland's preservation! they hastened in that moment to her
bosom.
The events of this her mortal struggle, in fast union with these
faithful sons, and other filial hearts, commemorated in the foregoing
narrative of Thaddeus Sobieski, need not be recapitulated here. It
amply tells the fate of the great kingdom which had stood as with
gates of brass, until the intestine rivalries of an elective
monarchy--the worshipped idol alike of presumptuous private ambition
and pretended patriotic liberality--the true masked priest of public
anarchy--rent them asunder, and the watchful nations, ready for
plunder and extended dominion, poured into them a flood like the
rivers of Babylon, over all her walls and towers.
We have read that part of her bravest sons were swept away into
distant lands; some to die in homeless exile, others to meet the
honorable compassion and the cheering hopes of sympathy from a people
like themselves, who had formerly fought the good fight for England's
laws, liberties, and royal name in Europe. And some were shut up from
the light of day in the fettered captivity of foreign prisons, until
"the iron entered their souls." Amongst these noble captives were
General Kosciusko and his faithful Achates, Niemcivitz, to whom might
be justly applied the words of our bard of "The Seasons," affixed to
the young brow of Sir Philip Sidney--
"The plume of war, with early chaplets crown'd
The hero's laurel with the poet's bays."
But the Emperor Paul, on his accession to the throne of the Czars, as
has before been noted, was too generous a captor to hold in cage so
sweet a singing bird and so noble a lion; and he gave them liberty,
appending to the act, dearest to a free-born heart, an imperial
donation to Kosciusko that might have furnished him with a golden
argosy all over the world. But the wounded son of Poland declined it
in a manner worthy her name, and with an ingenuous gratitude towards
the munificent sovereign who had offered it, not as a bribe for
"golden opinions," but as a sincere tribute to high heroic virtue.
The writer of this note was informed of this fact many years ago, by
a celebrated English banker, at that time at St. Petersburg, and
corresponding between that city and London, with whom the imperial
present had been lodged, and through whom General Kosciusko
respectfully but decidedly declined its acceptance.
Then it was that, after halting a short time in England, he with his
school and camp companion in so many changes, prepared a second
crossing over the Atlantic, to revisit its victor President in his
olive-grounds at Mount Vernon. But Niemcivitz had another errand. His
roving Cupid had long settled its wing, and he eagerly sought to
plight, before Heaven's altar in the church, the already sacred vow
he had pledged to a fair daughter of that country while sharing the
dangers of its battlefields.
It was with great difficulty the portcullis of a friendship strong as
death had been raised in old chivalric Kent, to allow departure to so
dear and honored a guest as he, who their master had seen fall in his
memorable wounds on the plain of Brzesc. But he promised to return
again, should the same sweet cherub that sat up aloft on his first
voyage to America steer back his little bark in safety; and then he
trusted to be once more clasped to the bosom of Poland, in that of
his most beloved friend, a dweller in England. [Footnote: The
portcullis, the gate, and the armorial crest of Beaufort has
descended from the royal founder of the family, John of Gaunt, Duke
of Lancaster.]
Besides this cherished heir of his earliest remembrances, there were
other friends of olden days who had welcomed him with gladdening
recollections. Amongst these was the family of Vanderhorst,
originally of the Spanish Netherlands, who, from religious rather
than political motives, had transferred themselves from certain
persecutions in that land during times of papal tyranny to the
shelter of the British colonies on the Transatlantic shore, and who,
on the separation of those colonies into independent states from the
mother country, had removed, in relative grateful duties, to the
governing land of their early refuge, and were now dwelling here in
prosperity and happy repose, when General Kosciusko set his honored
foot on its sea-girt and virtue-bulwarked coast He was their former
guest while at New York, and he readily accepted their eager
invitation that he would revisit them in their new paternal country.
At this period the head of the respected family resided at Bristol,
in Queen's Square, (the Grosvenor Square of that opulent city,) and
Mr. Vanderhorst inhabited one of the most superb mansions in it.
General Kosciusko arrived at his worthy host's door on the 7th of
June, 1797, and was greeted by the hearty embrace of his old friend
and the blushingly-presented cheeks of his two daughters, young and
lovely, in their teens. Their brother, a fine youth, pressed the hand
of his father's gallant and revered guest to his lips. Niemcivitz,
meanwhile, with dew-like tear-drops glittering over his joyous
smiles, greeted every one with the affectionate recognition of a
heart that seemed to know only to love. The writer, for one, shall
never forget those tears and smiles on that venerable but ever kindly
face; yet it was only in his old age that I first knew him. But sweet
sisters, whom I began to know in your bright bloom, I can never
forget those charming looks of reciprocating welcome that sprang
alone from the fulness of a good and truthful virgin heart. They are
now before me, though the eyes which then beamed so ingenuously on
the honored countenance of the Polish hero are closed in death; or
rather, shall I say, re-opened on him in a fairer and never-closing
light.
He spent a happy week in that bright circle, in which the present
commemorator has often since moved, and heard members of it over and
over again describe its happy scenes; sometimes, the younger sister,
my own especial friend; at other times the animated brother. The
revered father has long been in his respected grave; and the elder
sister, after an early marriage with an officer of distinction in the
British army, breathed her last sigh in the island of Antigua,
leaving an only child, a daughter, Cordelia Duncombe Taylor, a
beautiful memorial of the surpassingly lovely mother and aunt from
whom she is descended.
During the Bristol sojourn, brief as it was, numerous were the
sincere votaries to simple-hearted public virtue who sought it to pay
their homage to the modest hero within its hospitable walls. Rufus
King, then diplomatic minister from the United States to Great
Britain, and the accomplished Turnbull, by pen, pencil, and sword the
celebrated compeer of General Washington in his fields of glory, was
here also.
On the Polish chief's approach to the city becoming known, the above
gentlemen, with its sheriffs, Penry and Edgar, and Colonel Sir George
Thomas, commanding a regiment of dragoons in the vicinity, went out
in procession to meet him, to give him honoring welcome to the
British shores. Crowds of the neighboring gentry, in carriages or on
horseback, thronged the cavalcade; and on each succeeding day, while
he remained at Bristol, similar throngs of enthusiastic visitants
congregated in the square to catch a moment's sight of him. The
military band of the cavalry regiment attended every evening in the
hall of Mr. Vanderhorst, to regale the honor-oppressed invalid with
martial airs, from every land wherever a soldier's banner had waved.
But letters arrived from Mount Vernon. General Washington had become
impatient for his expected guest, and the morning of his separation
from his Bristol friends was fixed. The vessel in which he was to
embark was inspected with scrupulous care; and from the state of some
of his yet unhealed wounds, he was obliged to be conveyed from
Queen's Square to the quay in a sedan-chair. Mr. Vanderhorst and his
son preceded it on foot, and two military officers, Captains Whorwood
and Ferguson, walked on each side, each with his helmet off and in
his hand, resting them on the poles of the sedan as they moved along.
The colonel and other personal friends of Mr. Vanderhorst, and
admirers of his hero-guest, followed in the rear of the chair, and a
respectful and self-organized rank and file of humbler station closed
the procession to the waterside.
There he embarked in a lightly-manned boat, with a sail and rudder, a
more precious freight than Caesar and his fortunes; for the Roman
general crossed a barrier-river to subvert his country--Thaddeus
Kosciusko a stream of refuge, after having sacrificed his all, though
in vain, to preserve the independence of his native land. And thus
the welcomed coming speeded parting guest took a grateful leave of
the party who escorted him. They had seen him comfortably placed in
the boat, and when it had put off, he and Niemcivitz, uncapped,
extended their handkerchiefs, fluttering in the breeze, to them and
the other bystanders, as the little sail gave bosom to the wind, and
the farewell of this salution was answered with the warm and brave-
hearted cheers of old British custom, and the waving of hats, which
propitious sounds echoed back from cliff to cliff of the superb St.
Vincent rocks that rampart the keys of the Bristol Avon.
All along the river, as the bark proceeded down, it was met, when
within sight of any of the numerous merchant villas that adorned its
banks, by pretty pleasure-skiffs, bringing votive presents of fruits
and flowers to the brave voyagers on board. And then, while the
wounded and fatigued veteran, as he lay on his pallet on the deck,
was only able to bow his head with a gracious accepting smile to the
respectful messengers, Niemcivitz stood at the prow, his then bright
locks dallying with the sweet zephyrs from the gardened shores, and
spoke the general's and his own heartfelt thanks, in a language of
poetry that best accorded with his own glowing and his chiefs'
gallant feelings, and the generous _benedicite_ of the fair
donators.
Onward the little vessel sped, until it reached the American ship
afloat in King's Road, to convey its two noble passengers to the new
republic, just established in the western hemisphere. That the well-
remembered aid-de-camp of its boasted hero, Washington, was received
with warrior honors, need not be here described. He rested that night
under the variegated flag streaming from the topmast head, which his
own volunteer arm had assisted to place there; and he thought of
Poland and of England till he glided into a gentle sleep, and dreamed
of both. By the following letter it may be seen that his eyes were
visited next day by a sweet vision, in real personal existence, of
the same kind beings whose recollections alone had so blandly soothed
his pillow on the surge.
"Letter from General Kosciusko, to----Vanderhorst, Esq., _&c., &c.,
&c._ From the United States of America, No. 36 Queen's Square,
Bristol.
"At sea," (but without further date; circumstances, however,
establishing it to have been written on or about the 21st or 22d
June, 1797.)
"DEAR SIR:
"IT is the subject for a drama only, where the actors can express
with the action and words what may approach nearest to what was
passed yesterday within us, that I try to write. We were highly
pleased, it is true, and with uncommon satisfaction, to see the
approach of your family in a boat to our ship. But how short was the
duration of the pleasure! When separation took place, our hearts were
melted in tears. And we were frightened at their return, with fears
of what might happen to them upon a high sea in so small a boat.
Every rising wave gave the greatest pain to our anxiety, and the
extreme painfulness of our alarm even increased when we were so far
off that we could not see them more.
"I must beg of you to give them a good reprimand. Their kind and
sensible hearts passed the limits of safety for themselves, and gave
us the most distressful emotions of soul. The sea was so rough, I am
sure they must all be very sick. However, we send them the warmest
thanks, with everlasting friendship and remembrance. Be pleased,
also, to take for yourself our tender respects.
"Never shall I forget so kind reception of me in your house, nor the
attentions of your friends. I am sensible that I gave to you and your
amiable family a great trouble; but your goodness will not
acknowledge it, and by so doing, it more impresses my mind with the
obligation, and with a true answering affection for your whole
family.
"I am, dear sir, with friendship and esteem, your most thankful and
most obedient servant,
"T. KOSCIUSKO."
"I can nothing add to the feelings of my worthy friend but that I
wish to the respectable and beautiful family of Vanderhorst all the
happiness that virtue and the most excellent qualities of the heart
can deserve.
"J. NIEMCIVITZ.
"The fair deity--I mean Mister Cupid--desires his best compliments to
you all."
This tender yet playful postscript from the young soldier votary of
Cupid and the muse is evidently appended in the gayety of an
affectionate heart, speeding to the land of his own lady-love,
shortly to become his bride after his arrival, and which was so
consummated. Kosciusko never swerved from his soul's loyalty to the
bright Polish Laura of his cherished devotedness; and his subsequent
correspondence, one of pure, unselfish friendship, with the youngest
daughter of his venerable Anglo-American friend, lovely as she was
pure, confided to her how faithful had been his heart's allegiance to
the woman of his first and last vows. They had met during his track
of early military fame, and had exchanged these vows. But blighting
circumstances interfered, and they lived, and loved, but never met
again.
The narrator of these little reminiscences might well, perhaps most
agreeably, drop the curtain here; for strange and stirring incidents
awaited the two friends on their return to Europe, after a rather
prolonged sojourn amongst the animated hospitalities of a grateful
people.
The homeward side of that curtain was wrought in mingled fabric,
gold, silver, and various threaded yarns; and many were the different
hands that threw the shuttles--emperors, kings, princes, friends,
traitors; but above all, in the depth of mischief, the spirit of
suspicion had steeped the web.
Such was the lurid appearance of the great drama of Europe when
Kosciusko and Niemcivitz set foot again upon its shores. Death had
thrown his pall over some in high places and others in low. But more
cheering suns soon arose, to scare away the darkening shadows, and
the patriot heroes' hopes ascended with them. How some were honored,
some deceived in the observance, need not lengthen out our present
pages; suffice it to say that there were stars then rising on the
horizon which promised fairer elements.
It may be recollected that at the signing of the partition of Poland
by the benumbed Senate, on the fatal day of its political decease the
young prince Adam Czartoryski, the eldest son of the justly-renowned
and virtuous palatine of Vilna, who had been so signal a benefactor
to his country by the endowment and reformation of its chief schools,
was sent out a hostage to Russia, in seal of the then final
resignation. His education had been noble, like the principles of
those schools in the foundation of which the brave, illustrious and
also erudite Lithuanian family of Krasinski had been eminent sharers.
[Footnote: Count Valerian Krasinski, a distinguished son of this
house, has long been an honored guest in England, and held in high
literary respect for his veritable and admirable works, written in
fine English: "The Times of Philip Augustus," and "The History of the
Protestant Reformation in Poland." The writer of this note knows that
he has in his possession some beautiful manuscript tales, descriptive
of the manners of Poland; one called "Amoina," a most remarkable
story; another, entitled, "My Grandmamma," full of interesting
matter, written as a solace in occasional rests from severer literary
occupations. And she laments that he has not yet allowed himself to
be prevailed on to give any of these touching and elegant
reminiscences to his English readers.] The young prince's manners
were equally noble with his principles, and not long in attracting
the most powerful eyes in the empire. During the remainder of the
reign of the Empress Catharine, she caused him to be treated with
protective kindness, and on her demise he was instantly removed by
the Emperor Paul from whatever surveillance had been left over him,
into the imperial palace of St. Petersburg, where this justly-admired
princely student of Vilna was to be the constant inmate and companion
of the youthful Alexander, the eldest son and heir of the empire.
Their studies, their amusements, were shared together; and they soon
became friends like brothers. About the same time, as has before been
related, Paul had given freedom to General Kosciusko and his
compatriot Niemcivitz. And still, after the death of that
mysteriously-destined sovereign, a halcyon sky seemed to hold its
bland aspects over Russia's Sclavonian sister people, ancient
Sarmatia. But ere long the scene changed, and the "seething-pot" of a
universal ambition, the crucible of nations, grasped by the hand of
Napoleon, began again to darken the world's atmosphere.
Kosciusko now looked on, sometimes with yet struggling hopes, then
with well-founded convictions that "the doom was not yet spent;" and
no more to be deluded one way or another, while such shifting grounds
and sudden earthquakes were erupting the earth under his feet, like
the prophet of old, boding worse things to come, he withdrew himself
far into the solitudes of nature, into the wide yet noiseless temple
of God, where the prayer of an honest man's heart might be heard and
answered by that all-merciful and all-wise Being, who sometimes
leaves proud men to themselves, to the lawless, headlong driving of
their arrogant passions, to show them, in the due turn of events,
what a vicious self-aggrandizing, abhorrent and despicable monster in
human shape such a noble creature, when turned from the divine
purpose of his creation, may become. To such contemplations, and to
the repose of a mind and conscience at peace with itself, did the
once, nay, ever-renowned hero of Poland, retire into the most
sequestered mountains of Switzerland. A few friends, of the same
closed accounts with the world, congregated around him; and there he
dwelt several years, beloved and revered, as, indeed, he was wherever
he planted his pilgrim staff.
He died at Soleure, in the house of a friend, Mr. Zeltner, in
consequence of a fall from his horse while taking a solitary ride. He
was buried there with every demonstration of respect in the power of
the simple inhabitants to bestow. But the Emperor Alexander, on
hearing of the event, would not allow remains so honorable to be
divided from the land of their birth; and such high and sincere
homage to the undaunted heroism and universally acknowledged
integrity of the lamented dead found no difficulty in obtaining the
distinguishing object sought, that of transferring his virtue-
consecrated relics to the shrine of ancient Christian Poland, the
city of Cracow, and there reinterring them in the great royal
cemetery of the most revered patriots of the kingdom.
Years rolled on over the head and heart of the patriot and the bard,
Niemcivitz, the ever "faithful Achates" of his friend and his
country, even after, to his bereaved heart, he had survived both. He
had also become a widower. His gentle and delicate wife went to
revisit her native climate in the United States, but died there. On
his return thence to Europe, the consolations of a fraternal
friendship, in the bosoms of his noble countrymen, who had become
adopted denizens of free and happy England, vainly sought to retain
him with them. Sorrow in a breast of his temperament cannot find rest
in any place. His shining locks, once likened to those of Hyperion,
became frosted by an age of wandering as well as of sadness; and the
till then joyous and ever-tender heart of the sweetest poet of
Sclavonian birth breathed its last sigh in Paris, in the summer of
1841. It was on the first of June; and on the eighth of the month he
was buried with military honors and all the distinguishing rites of
the national church. The funeral service was performed by the
Archbishop of Chalcidonia, with a large body of the clergy attending.
A choir of fifty professors sung the mass, and more than a thousand
persons thronged the procession--persons of all nations, of all
creeds, religious or political, of every rank amongst men, of every
mind, from the prince to the peasant, that understood the true value
of genius when helmed by virtue, either on the land or on the wave;
whether in the field or in the cabinet; in the student's closet, or
in the duties of domestic home.
Such a man was Niemcivitz. So was he wept; so will he be remembered,
proving, indeed, most convincingly, that there is a standard set up
in men's hearts, if they would but look to it, which, whatever be
their minor clashing opinions, shows that the truly great and good in
this earth are all of one family in the estimation of pure intellect,
the spiritual organ of all just estimation, which is, in fact, that
of the kingdom of heaven--that kingdom which, if its laws to man were
properly preserved and obeyed, would spread the shepherds' promised
"peace and good-will to all mankind." But men may listen, approve,
and admire, and yet withhold obedience. But why will the heirs of
such a covenant, with sight and hearing, die from its inheritance?
Kosciusko and Niemcivitz were real appreciators of so rich a
birthright in "the better country!" and now are gone to Him who
purchased it by His most precious blood, to enter with Him forever
into its peaceful and glorious rest.
J. P.
BRISTOL, SEPTEMBER 1845.