Thaddeus of Warsaw Part 67

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 blus.h.i.+ngly-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 surpa.s.singly 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 sh.o.r.es. 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 sh.o.r.es, 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 s.h.i.+p afloat in King's Road, to convey its two n.o.ble pa.s.sengers to the new republic, just established in the western hemisphere. That the well- remembered aid-de-camp of its boasted hero, Was.h.i.+ngton, 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 a.s.sisted 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; circ.u.mstances, however, establis.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.sed 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 s.h.i.+p. 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 pa.s.sed 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 friends.h.i.+p 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 friends.h.i.+p 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 friends.h.i.+p, 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 circ.u.mstances 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 sh.o.r.es. 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 part.i.tion 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 n.o.ble, like the principles of those schools in the foundation of which the brave, ill.u.s.trious 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 ma.n.u.script tales, descriptive of the manners of Poland; one called "Amoina," a most remarkable story; another, ent.i.tled, "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 n.o.ble 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 amus.e.m.e.nts, 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 s.h.i.+fting 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 G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sions, to show them, in the due turn of events, what a vicious self-aggrandizing, abhorrent and despicable monster in human shape such a n.o.ble 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 distinguis.h.i.+ng 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 friends.h.i.+p, in the bosoms of his n.o.ble 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 distinguis.h.i.+ng 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 ma.s.s, 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 clas.h.i.+ng 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.