Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1852-02-11
More warsaws than One.
BY HARRIET MARfISEAU.
CONCLUDED.


horror which 1t can do no good to des
cribe. One evening, large wagon, such
as was too often seen in the streets at that
time, came slowly along the street in which
the Szlelmas lived, stopping at three doors,
and going on again, and then stopping al
theirs. A Russian officer came in, and
demanded the children. II was not scene
10 be dwelt upon. The children were TAX
en- by force, and put into The wagon. 1t
was net pretended that their mother would
ever see them again. They were to be
taken to Russia, 10 be brought up,-the boy
as common soldier, and the girls probably
as peasants wives. They were 10 be taught
their duty TO the Emperor that is, their
one piece of learning was to be that
catechism of the Greek church, in which
the Emperor is ranked with God as an OBJ
ject OF actual worship. The life of Rus
sian soldier is one of unmitigated misery;
and OF all blasphemy, that of worshipping
the Emperor of Russia Was most lbhurrent
TO Pole. Yet Madame Szilelma did not
die, even of this excessive woe. There was
some hope in her heart,-hope that her
husband was living, and that she might by
some means reach him,-hope that Poland
would yet arise, before her children were
too old for rescue. All whom she knew
told her that Poland would yet arise; and
that she must endeavor to live to see that
day.
BY this time, il was Nichols that was
reigning. Alexander was dead, and Con.
stantine had been put aside, as too brutal
for even the TIL one of Russia. At Warsaw.
it seemed that there was little choice. Con-
stantine could hardly have done worse than
Nichols did when his spies informed him
that Madame Szltelma and another wretch
ed mother had conspired TO obtain means
OF communication with their children He
did not know, or he would have caused the
mother TO be informed, that two OF her chill
dren had sunk under the hardships of the
journey, and been thrown out of the wagon
TO die by the road side The names of the
children were dropped from the moment
they lett their parents doors; and they
were known by numbers only till they
could be baptized by Russian names, on
reaching their destination. So no one
knew which ofthe little ones died, and which
survived; and Madame Sztelma was never
aware that Pelava had become her only
child. She and her friend were sentenced
for their conspiracy" TO be fogged at the
carts in ose of the squares at Warsaw; and
they wore logged. The residents closed
their shutters-closed their ears,-tried, in
their agony, TO close their hearts; but the
echoes of that lash were heard in London.
and in the cities of Italy and America.
Still, the feeble creature did not die. The
Emperor had still something more for her
to do. He signed an order by whica six
hundred ladies Of Warsaw were drafted off,
TO be sent to the Chinese frontier as wives
for the common soldiers and of these six
hundred Madame Szilelma was one.
What dispersion it was then. Among
the Siberian SHOWS, where black pine woods,
and the depths of The mines alone afford
afford shelter from the freezing storms and
fatal drifts of winter, lived land perhaps still!
llVes) the father OF that once happy family.
He knows nothing of human affairs beyond
the hamlet where he and his fellow exics
live and toll. But for his mental resources
he must have died long ago. As it is, he
lives on thought, and on the hope which is
the legitimate offspring of thought. In q
word by the road side in Russia lie the
bones of Teress and Sigismund,-hdden
away from human knowledge. Almost as
truly hidden away is PelaVa,-in her coarse
dress, with her cropped har,and her badge
and her life full of coarse occupations, in
tended to stife thought and aspiration.
Lastly there is an unmarked grave in Asia
on the frontier between the Chinese and Rus
sian dominions. There Madame SzteIma
lived for few months. She was assigned
TO peasant soldier for a wife; but he look
pity on her. tie saw that she was dying
They could not converse-haying 10 com
mon language-but he saw enough of her
story; that she was lady; that she was nns
happy, and, il was clear, had been mother
She lived in silence. She saw Tartar faces
and heard only chatter that she did not I'M
derstand. But she feared nothing. She
was past fear. She baked the black bread
as long as she could stand; and mended the
coarse clothes as long as she could see 10
set stitch She lived in the past. and in
that realm of thought where her husband
was at lhe same time finding his home In
the midst of these distractions she one day
fell asleep unawares; and when her master
returned srom parade, he found her, lying
al length upon the sand. He had her de-
Gently laid beneath it, and covered the spot
= W llh stones, for fear OF the wolves.
do your nerves ache at this story2 Does
your blood boil? Do we long 10 snatch
Warsaw from the tyrant, and Imake new
"order', reign there? Let US think whether
there be not another Warsaw, more within
our power;-whether the European War
saw is the only one where men are kidnap-
ped and transported, and children are taken
from their parents, and women logged, and
assigned TO a new husband at the pleasure
OF a ruler and master Let us work for a
new order of affairs in every Warsaw
whether Of the old world or the new, for the
present is not 10 be endured, whether in
the East or in the West.