Читать книгу History of the Polish Revolution and the Events of the Campaign - Joseph Hordynski - Страница 13

19. The details of the Grand Duke's march may not be uninteresting to the reader, and at the same time they will serve to refute the false report that he was pursued by the Poles.

Early in the morning of the third of December, the Grand Duke left his camp at Mokotow, and marched on the route of Kosienice and Pulawa. Agents had been sent in advance in this direction, to procure for him every convenience, which he found uniformly prepared. In a village between Kosienice and Graniza, where he halted with his troops, he met intendant general Wolicki, who was on his way from Lublin to Warsaw. Wolicki waited on the Grand Duke, in the hope that he might render him some service. Constantine had quartered himself in the house of the curate of the village, and received the intendant general in the parlor, where the Grand Duchess Lowicz was present. Wolicki requested his orders with regard to the accommodation of the troops. Constantine coldly thanked him, and immediately began to complain of the Poles; in which he was joined by his lady. He reproached the nation with the benefits he had conferred on them, and seizing Wolicki violently by the hand, added, 'And for all this they wanted to assassinate me!' When Wolicki, in the most delicate manner, represented that his residence had been entered with the best intentions toward his person, the Grand Duke, with yet greater exasperation and fury, exclaimed, 'They have chased me out of the country—but I shall soon return.' In his rage he again seized Wolicki's hand, saying, 'You shall stay with me, as a hostage for my generals retained in Warsaw.' Notwithstanding the expostulations of Wolicki, he was arrested and detained. He however was not long a prisoner, for he soon found means to regain his liberty. The Grand Duke passed that night at the village of Graniza, some of the inhabitants of which Wolicki knew. He found opportunity to speak with one of them in the night, told him what had befallen, and desired him to raise a false alarm, as if the Poles were at hand. It was done. The citizens began to shout in the streets, and Wolicki, profiting by the fright and disorder of the Russians, escaped.

He arrived at Warsaw on the following day, and related his adventure, which was published as an illustration of the Grand Duke's perfidy and inconsistency. This conduct, together with his threats, would have justified the Poles in pursuing and taking him, with his whole army, prisoners. But the nation generously suffered this opportunity for revenge to pass by, and adhered to the promise of a free passage.

On his arrival in Pulawa, Constantine was received by the princess Czartoriska in the most friendly manner, as he also was in Lubartow by the princess Lubomirska. In the latter place, general Rosniecki, who accompanied the Grand Duke, demanded an apartment in a pavilion adjoining the palace, which was designed for the suite of Constantine. The princess answered, in the presence of the Grand Duke, 'There is no room for traitors to their country in my house.'

On the way to Lenczna, the Russian army met a division of Polish lancers, marching to Siedlec. They halted in order to go through the ceremony of saluting. The Grand Duke, with his suite, approached them with an air of perfect friendship, shook hands with several, and endeavored to persuade them to return with him. 'Hulans,' said he, 'do not forget your duty to your monarch, but set your comrades a good example.' He then offered them money and other rewards. Indignant at his proposals, the lancers replied, 'Prince, we thank you for the money and promises you offer us, but there is no command more sacred in our eyes than the call of our country; no greater reward than the privilege of fighting in her cause!' With this, they wheeled, and continued their march past the Russian troops, singing patriotic songs.

The Grand Duke passed the frontier with his forces on the thirteenth of December, and crossing the Wadowa, entered Volhynia, an ancient Polish province, now incorporated with Russia.

I cannot forbear to record the noble conduct of colonel Turno, a Pole, and aid-de-camp to the Grand Duke. This officer had been fourteen years with Constantine, and was one of the few honest men in his suite. His long endurance of his chief's follies and rudeness could have had no other motive than the hope of doing good to others, and preventing mischief. Constantine loved him, valued him highly, and was firmly convinced that Turno would remain with him. What was his surprise, when, at the frontier, Turno rode up to take his leave! At first, he was unable to answer. After some time he said, with an expression of heartfelt grief, 'Turno, and will you leave me—you, upon whom I had placed my greatest hopes—whom I loved so much—who have been with me so long?' Turno answered, with dignity, 'Your Highness may be assured that I am sorry to part with you. I have certainly always been your friend, and I am so still. I should never leave you in another cause—no, not in the greatest distress: on the contrary I should be happy to share every misfortune with you. But, your Highness, other circumstances and duties call me now—the highest and weightiest duty—the duty a man owes to his country. Your Highness, I have done all that honor and duty commanded as your aid-de-camp—I have accompanied you to the frontier, that I might be your guide as long as you should remain on Polish ground, and preserve you from every possible danger. Now you need me no longer. You are in your own country, and my duty as your aid-de-camp being at an end, it is now my sacred duty as a Pole to return at the summons of my country.'

The Grand Duke marched with his corps towards Bialystok, where he remained till the beginning of the campaign. In the war, he was not ashamed to accept the command of a corps of the army, and to fight against those who had treated him so generously, his promises to the contrary notwithstanding.

20. These Polish regiments and generals are, doubtless, the same who were reported by the Berlin State Gazette to have been butchered. So far from that, the nation received them kindly, and forgave them. Prussians! you know little of the Poles, or of their feelings. The time may come when we shall know one another better.

21. This was the first time the theatre was opened during the revolution. A patriotic piece was performed, viz. 'The Krakovians and Guralians,' or 'The Union of the two Tribes.' This play had been prohibited before. As early as six, P.M. the theatre was crowded. No distinction was observed in regard to places. Before the play began, one of the patriots addressed the audience with a speech, in which he called to memory all the outrages by which the revolution had been rendered necessary, and informed them what measures the National Assembly had taken to insure the success of the good cause. 'Poles! Brethren!' he said, 'we have sent deputies to the Emperor, to represent our sufferings for fifteen years—our oppressions—which drew neither attention nor relief from Russia, while our rights were trampled upon, and our innocent brethren tortured. Perhaps the Emperor, surrounded by bad men, has been kept in ignorance of our wrongs, and will be astonished to hear of all this injustice from the mouths of our deputies. Perhaps he will take measures to redress all these villanies without delay. If the grace of God has granted him to reign over Poland, he may follow the steps of our good kings of old; of whom no one ever tarnished the throne with tyranny. As for us, brethren, let us forget past dissensions, and unitedly and patiently strive with one accord for the redemption of our country.' After this speech, which was joyfully received, the orchestra played Kosciusko's march, which had not been heard for fifteen years. At first, the music was drowned in the shouts of the audience—'Hail, our country—our father Kosciusko! France, and Lafayette the friend of Kosciusko, forever!' After this, the Marseilles hymn was played, and then the Mazur of Dombrowski. The play was full of patriotic songs, and the audience joined their voices to those of the actors. But when, at the end of the play, three standards, with the armorial bearings of the ancient provinces of Poland, were brought in, and were folded into one in the embraces of the actors who represented the three chief tribes, the exultation of the audience surpassed all bounds. One of the favorite actors addressed the spectators in these words—'The monster tyranny, terrified by the sudden light of liberty, which he could not endure, has left the den from which he has hitherto spread death and affright. Oh that, scared by this light, he may be driven farther and farther, nor be suffered to rest on any of the fields of Poland. May he retire to the dark, icy regions of the north, whence he came, and God grant that he may never return to us.'

After this, those of the patriots who had been most actively distinguished on the first night of the revolution and after, and those who had suffered in dungeons for their love of country, were presented to the assemblage. They were received with infinite joy, and carried about on the shoulders of the people with shouts. Many ladies were then brought forward, who had followed the patriots in arms on the first night, or had sacrificed their wealth on the altar of patriotism. At first sight, these beautiful and noble beings might have been taken for angels sent down for the redemption of unhappy Poland.

These scenes surpass description—they can only be felt by hearts truly free. These were moments to unite the whole nation. Persons who had shunned each other for years, each fearing a spy in the other, explained themselves and embraced. These scenes will live eternally in the memory of every Pole. Beholding his countrymen in this ecstasy of joy, there was none who did not weep—none who did not feel ready to die on the morrow, having seen them thus happy. The prisoner condemned to death, when unexpectedly rescued, and permitted to breathe the free air, laughs, weeps, endeavors to express his gratitude, and cannot. Such was the feeling of Poland in these blessed moments.

22. On Sunday, the fifth of December, prayers were offered up in all the churches of Warsaw by the people from the provinces as well as the inhabitants. The blessing of the Most High was implored on our arms. Of all the religious solemnities, those of Praga were the most edifying and affecting. A mass was said in the open air, at an altar erected on the spot where the victims of Suwarrow had been buried. This altar was surrounded by more than 50,000 men, who sent up one voice to God. The twelve academical legions formed the innermost circle, among whom those who had been imprisoned for assisting on a similar occasion were conspicuous. In the intervals of divine service, and after its termination, several speeches were delivered, one of which was by one of the liberated prisoners. Recalling the cruelties perpetrated by Suwarrow, as well as those which we had lately suffered, he observed, 'Brethren, we were lately forbidden—nay, it was accounted a crime, to pray for our unfortunate murdered ancestors. To-day, under this free vault of heaven, on the grave of our fathers, on the soil moistened with their sacred blood, which cries to us for retribution, in the presence of their spirits hovering over us, we swear never to lay down our arms till we shall have avenged, or fallen like them.' The assembled multitude then sung a patriotic hymn.

The sixth of December was remarkable for the nomination of Chlopicki to the dictatorship;—the union of the supreme civil and military powers in his person. The authority of the provisional government was thus at an end; every thing was referred to the Dictator. In the afternoon, more than 100,000 persons assembled in the Champ de Mars and the space around it. The greater part of the army, too, were present. Chlopicki came with the senators, and was received by those who had entrusted him with their defence with shouts of joy. His aspect was, indeed, venerable. His silver head, grown white in the service of Poland, bespoke the confidence of all.

The people were informed by one of the senators that all the powers of government had been delegated to Chlopicki, in order that operations might be conducted with greater energy and despatch; yet with this restriction—that his authority should cease on the eighteenth of December. This, it will be remembered, was the day fixed for the opening of the Diet, to which body all farther dispositions were referred. The proclamation made, Chlopicki himself addressed the people thus: 'Poles! brethren! The circumstances in which our country is placed demand strict unity of purpose, and therefore I have thought it best to accept the supreme power. But this is only for a time. I shall resign it on the meeting of the Diet. Rely on my experience, which is the fruit of long service, and on my age, which has taught me the knowledge of mankind. Be assured that no selfish feeling has impelled me to this step, and that I have consented to take it only to promote the welfare of Poland. The truth of this I call God to witness.—May he assist me to make my promises good. Hail to our dear country!' The last sentence was clamorously echoed by the people, with the addition of, 'and its brave defender Chlopicki!' Many in the assembly exclaimed, 'Lead us to Lithuania, Chlopicki!'