The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 90

With a relation of the most remarkable occurrences in the life of the celebrated COUNT PULASKI, well known as the champion of American Liberty, and who bravely fell in its defence before Savannah, 1779.

_Interspersed with Anecdotes of the late unfortunate KING of POLAND, so recently dethroned._

(Continued from page 174.)

I a.s.sist him to descend from his horse; he sits down upon the gra.s.s, and making me sit down by his side, he takes one of my hands and presses it between his own:

"Lovzinski, you whom I have so much loved, you who know better than any one the purity of my intentions, how comes it about that you have taken up arms against me? Ungrateful Lovzinski! shall I never find you but amongst my most bitter enemies? Do you return but on purpose to sacrifice me?"

He then, in the most affecting language, recapitulates the pleasures of our early youth; our more intimate connection at an age approaching to manhood, the tender friends.h.i.+p which we had sworn to each other, and the regard which he had ever treated me with since that period. He spoke to me of the honours with which he would have loaded me during his reign, if I had been ambitious to merit them: he reproached me more particularly respecting the unworthy enterprise of which I appeared to be the leader, but of which, he said, he was well a.s.sured that I was no more than the instrument.

He threw all the horror of the plot upon Pulaski, representing to me, at the same time, that the author of such an attempt was not the sole culpable person; that I could not charge myself with its execution without committing a crime; and that this odious complaisance, so highly treasonable in a subject, was infinitely more in a friend. He concluded by pressing me to restore him to his liberty: "Fly," said he to me; "and be a.s.sured, if I encounter any of the Russians patroles, I shall tell them that you have pursued an opposite road from that which you have taken."

The king continued to press me with the most earnest entreaties: his natural eloquence, augmented by the danger of his situation, carried persuasion to my heart, and awakened the most tender sentiments there.

I confess that I staggered; I balanced the circ.u.mstances for some time in my own mind, but Pulaski at length triumphed.

I thought that I still heard the fierce republican reproaching me with my pusillanimity. The love of one's country has perhaps its fanaticism and its superst.i.tions: but if I was then culpable, I am still so; I am more than ever persuaded that in obliging the king to remount his horse again, I performed an action that reflected honour on my patriotism.

"Is it thus," says he to me, in a melancholy accent, "that you reject the prayer addressed to you by a friend? that you refuse the pardon offered to you by your king? Well then, let us begone. I deliver myself up to my unhappy fate, or rather, I abandon you to yours."

We now re-commence our journey once more; but the entreaties of the monarch, his arguments, his reproaches, his very menaces, the struggles which I felt within myself, affected me in such a manner, that I no longer could discern my way. Wandering up and down the country, I kept no one certain road: after half an hour's fatigue we found ourselves at Marimont, and I was greatly alarmed at seeing us thus return towards Warsaw, instead of leaving it at a distance.

At about a quarter of a league beyond this, we unfortunately fell in with a party of Russians. The king immediately discovers himself to the commanding officer, and then instantly adds. "In the course of the preceding afternoon, I happened to bewilder myself during the chace; this good peasant, whom you see here, insisted on my partaking a frugal repast in his cottage; but as I thought that I perceived some of the soldiers of Pulaski roaming in the neighbourhood, I was desirous of returning to Warsaw immediately, and you will oblige me much by instantly accompanying me thither.

"As to you, my friend," continues he, turning at the same time towards me, "I am not at all sorry that you have given yourself this useless trouble, for I am as much pleased at returning to my capital attended by these gentlemen (pointing at the same time to the escort), as in accompanying you any farther. However, it would be improper that I should leave you without any recompence; what are you desirous of?

Speak--I will grant you any favour which you may demand of me!"

It will be easy to conceive hew much I was alarmed, for I was still doubtful of the king's intentions. I endeavoured therefore to discover the true meaning of his equivocal discourse, which must be either full of a bitter irony, or a magnanimous address. M de P*** left me for some time in this cruel uncertainty: "I behold you greatly embarra.s.sed,"

continues he at length, with a gracious air; "you know not what to choose! Come then, my friend, embrace me: there is indeed more honour than profit in embracing a king (adds he with a smile); however, it must be allowed, that, in my place, many monarchs would not be at this moment so generous as myself!" On uttering these words, he instantly departs, leaving me penetrated with grat.i.tude, and confounded with so much true greatness.

However the danger which the king had so generously relieved me from, began every moment to a.s.sail me again. It was more than probable that a great number of couriers expedited from Warsaw, had spread about on all sides the astonis.h.i.+ng news of the king's having been carried off.

Already, without doubt, the ravishers were warmly pursued. My remarkable dress might betray me in my flight, and if I once more fell into the hands of any of the Russians, better informed of the circ.u.mstance, all the efforts of the king would not be able to save me. Supposing Pulaski had obtained all the success which he expected, he must still be at a great distance; a journey of ten more leagues at least regained for me to perform, and my horse was entirely spent with fatigue: I endeavoured however to spur him on, but he had not got five hundred paces before he fell under me.

A cavalier, well mounted, happened to pa.s.s along the road by the side of me, at this very moment; he perceived the poor animal tumble down, and, thinking to amuse himself at the expence of an unfortunate peasant, he began to banter me about my situation. Piqued at this buffoonery, I resolved to punish him for his raillery, and secure my own flight at one and the same time: I, therefore, instantly present one of my pistols to his breast, and obliged him to surrender his own horse to me; nay, I acknowledge to you, that, forced by the peculiarity of my situation, I despoiled him even of his cloak, which being very large, hid all my rags beneath it, which otherwise might have discovered me. I then cast my purse full of gold at the feet of the astonished traveller, and sprang forward as fast as my new horse could carry me.

Luckily for me, he was fresh and vigorous.---I dart forward twelve leagues, with all the swiftness of an arrow: at length I think I hear the firing of cannon, and I instantly conjecture that my father-in law was at hand, and was employed in fighting the Russians.

I was not deceived---I arrive on the field of battle at the very moment when one of our regiments had given way. I instantly discover myself to the fugitives, and having rallied them beneath a neighbouring hill, I attack the enemies in flank, while Pulaski charges them in front with the remainder of his troops. Our manuvres were so well concerted, and so admirably executed, that the Russians were entirely routed, after experiencing a terrible carnage.

Pulaski deigned to attribute to me the honour of their defeat: "Ah!"

cries he, embracing me, after hearing the particulars of my expedition---"ah! if your forty followers had but equalled you in courage, the king would have been at this very moment in my camp! But the Deity does not will it. I am grateful, however, that you have been preserved to us; and I return you thanks for the important service which you have rendered me: but for you, Kaluvski would have a.s.sa.s.sinated the monarch, and my name would have been covered with an eternal opprobrium!

"I might have been able," added he, "to have advanced two miles farther; but I rather chose to take possession of this respectable post, on account of the security of my camp. Yesterday, in the course of my march, I surprised, and cut in pieces, a party of Russians; this morning I beat two more of their detachments; but another considerable corps having collected the remainder of the vanquished, took advantage of the night, on purpose to attack me. My soldiers, fatigued with the toil of a long march, and three succeeding engagements, began to fly; but victory returned to my camp at your approach. Let us entrench ourselves here; we will wait for the Russian army, and fight while we yet have a drop of blood remaining!"

(To be continued.)

MILITARY ANECDOTE.

Gonsalvo, who was lieutenant-general to the celebrated Spanish general, the marquis of Spinola, and governor of Milan, in 1624, intending to take possession of a little walled village in the Palatine, called Ogers.h.i.+em, dispatched an officer, at the head of some troops upon that errand. On the first alarm, nine tenths of the inhabitants removed to Manheim, leaving behind them about twenty insignificant people, and a poor shepherd, who, beside being a brave fellow, was a man of humour.

The shepherd in good time fastened the gates, let down the drawbridge, and made a wonderful shew of resistance. A trumpeter summoned the village in form, upon which the few inhabitants that remained made their escape through a postern-gate, and left only the shepherd, and the shepherdess, big with child. This unaccountable peasant, in a style of the representative of a garrison, gave audience, from the walls, to the military herald, and made his terms of capitulation, inch by inch, stipulating, at the same time, for the preservation of the state, and the free exercise of the protestant religion. Imagine, therefore, what must be the surprise of the Spaniards, when they entered the village, and found him and his wife only in it! Yet the droll peasant preserved the muscles of his countenance inflexible; and, some weeks afterward, when his wife lay in, he desired the great Gonsalvo to be G.o.dfather; which honour the pompous Spaniard, for the jest's sake, could not decline, but on the contrary, sent her some very handsome presents. This account, the historian (_Mr. Spanheim, Hist. de l' Elect. Palet._) says, might appear a little romantic to posterity, if the notoriety of it had not been a circ.u.mstance indisputable at the time it happened.

_SINGULAR ACCOUNT OF LA MAUPIN._

From Burney's History of Music.

La Maupin seems to have been a most extraordinary personage. "She was equally fond of both s.e.xes, fought and lived like a man, and resisted and fell like a woman. Her adventures are of a very romantic kind.

Married to a young husband, who soon was obliged to absent himself from her, to enter on an office he had obtained in Provence, she ran away with a fencing master, of whom she learnt the small sword, and became an excellent fencer, which was afterwards a useful qualification to her on several occasions. The lovers first retreated from persecution to Ma.r.s.eilles; but necessity soon obliged them to solicit employment there, at the opera; and, as both had by nature good voices, they were received without difficulty. But soon after this she was seized with a pa.s.sion for a young person of her own s.e.x, whom she seduced, but the object of her whimsical affection being pursued by her friends, and taken, was thrown into the convent at Avignon, where La Maupin soon followed her; and having presented herself as a novice obtained admission. Some time after, she set fire to the convent, and availing herself of the confusion she had occasioned, carried off her favourite. But being pursued and taken, she was condemned to the flames for contumacy: a sentence, however, which was not executed, as the young Ma.r.s.eillaise was found and restored to her friends.

"She then went to Paris, and made her first appearance on the opera stage in 1695, when she performed the part of Pallas, in Cadmus, with the greatest success. The applause was so violent, the she was obliged, in her car, to take off her casque to salute and thank the public, which redoubled their marks of approbation. From that time her success was uninterrupted. c.u.meni, the singer, having affronted her, she put on men's clothes, watched for him in the Place des Victoires, and insisted on his drawing his sword and fighting her, which he refusing, she caned him, and took from him his watch and snuff-box. Next day, Dumeni, having boasted at the opera-house, that he had defended himself against three men who attempted to rob him, she related the whole story, and produced his watch and snuff-box in proof of her having caned him for his cowardice. Thevenard was nearly treated in the same manner, and had no other way of escaping her chastis.e.m.e.nt, than by publicly asking her pardon, after hiding himself at the Palace Royal during three weeks. At a ball given by Monsieur, the brother of Louis XIV. she again put on men's clothes, and having behaved impertinently to a lady, three of her friends, supposing La Maupin to be a man, called her out. She might easily have avoided the combat by discovering her s.e.x, but she instantly drew, and killed them all three. Afterwards returning very coolly to the ball, she told the story to Monsieur, who obtained her pardon."

ANECDOTE OF MONS. DE SARTINE.

An Irish gentleman, who wished to purchase an estate in France, lodged his money in the hand of a banker, who took it, as common on the continent, without giving the gentleman a voucher; but lodged it in an iron chest, and gave to the gentleman the key. When the contract for the purchase was made, he called on his banker to receive his cash, when the latter peremptorily denied his having received any such sum, or having any money transaction whatever with the gentleman.----In this dilemma the injured party was advised to apply to M. de Sartine, and he accordingly did so, and told him his story. The minister sent for the banker, and asked him, if he had not received such a sum? The banker steadily denied it. "Very well (replied M. de Sartine), then sit down and write a letter which I shall dictate to you, and you shall continue in the room with me, until the answer arrives." Paper was brought, and Sartine dictated, and made him write a letter to his wife, to the following effect:--"My dear wife, you must immediately send to me the sum which Mons. ---- left in my hands, and which was deposited originally in the iron chest, in the compting-house, but was removed you know whither. You must send it instantly, or else I shall be sent to the Bastile. I am already in the hands of justice." The banker stared----"Mon Dieu! (says he) must I send this letter to my wife?"----"You must (says the minister): I dare say, if you are guilty of the robbery, your wife, who is remarkable for her ingenuity, was privy to it, and she will obey your commands: if you are innocent, she cannot comprehend the order which you send, and will say so in her answer. We will make the experiment, and if you resist, you shall go immediately to the Bastile."

The resolution was decisive. The letter was sent, and in less than an hour the money was brought in the bags in which it was originally sealed, and restored to the original owner. M. de Sartine discharged the banker, telling him the matter should be kept a secret, provided he acted with more faith and honesty for the future.

_NEW-YORK._

MARRIED,

On Sat.u.r.day evening the 19th ult. at Florida, (Ulster County) by the Rev. Mr. Jaline, Mr. BENONA BRADNER, of Sugar-Loaf, to Miss MARY JEANS, of that place.

On Thursday evening the 24th ult. by the Rev. Dr. Linn, Mr. JOSHUA PARKER, to Miss SALLY VAN AULEN, daughter of Mr. Cornelius Van Aulen, both of this city.

On Monday evening last, by the Rev. Mr. Phbus, Mr. JAMES WHITING, to Miss DEBORA ALLEN both of this city.

ON THE DEATH OF A BABY NINE DAYS OLD.

The cup of life just to her lip she press'd, Found the taste bitter, and declind'd the rest; Averse, then turning from the face of day, She gently sigh'd her little soul away.