When in Warsaw a few years ago, we went to the park to see the statue of general Sowiński and the redoubt he defended.
The remains of Wola entrenchment defended by general Sowiński.
General Sowiński, a heroic general with one leg who died while defending Warsaw against Russians during November Uprising in 1830.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J%C3%B3zef_Sowi%C5%84ski
Józef Sowiński (1777-1831) was a Polish artillery general and one of the heroes of Poland's November 1830 Uprising.
Józef Longin Sowiński was born March 15, 1777 Warsaw, after graduating from the famous Corps of Cadets in Warsaw, he joined the Polish Army as a lieutenant during the Kościuszko Uprising (1794). After its suppression and the dismemberment of Poland by her neighbor states, Sowiński's regiment was drafted into the Prussian army. However, after the Duchy of Warsaw was proclaimed by Napoleon Bonaparte, Sowiński in 1811 defected back into Polish service. He fought in various battles of the Napoleonic wars. During Napoleon's invasion of Russia (1812) he lost a leg at the Battle of Mozhaysk. He was awarded the Virtuti Militari and Legion of Honor. After the Congress of Vienna he returned to Poland and served as commander of the Warsaw Arsenal of the Kingdom of Poland Army. In 1820 he became commandant of the Application School for officers.
After the outbreak of the November Uprising against Russia in 1830, Sowiński became artillery commander of the Warsaw garrison and head of the Government Commission of War (de facto Ministry of War). During the Russian assault on Warsaw on September 6, 1831, Sowiński personally commanded the heroic defense of the Polish capital's western approaches, in what is now its Wola district (he had 1,300 men versus 11 Russian battalions).
His death was immortalized by Polish poets, including Juliusz Słowacki in his Sowiński w okopach Woli (Sowiński in the Wola Trenches).
Sowinski in the Trenches of Wola
Juliusz Slowacki
In the old churchhouse of Wola
General Sowinski remained,
Old man with a wooden leg,
Defending himself with a sword;
All around him lie commanders
Of battalions with their soldiers,
Muskets scattered, broken cannons,
Everything is devastated!
The General will not surrender,
The old man defends himself
Leaning up against the altar
On the sacred linen white,
There he rests his weary elbow
Where they lay the holy missals
On the left side of the altar
Where the priest reads from the Gospel
Suddenly some soldiers enter,
Servants of the Russian Marshall
Paskiewicz, and beg him: "General,
Surrender now, for why should you
Die so miserably." On their knees
They plead, as with their own father,
"Hand us your sword now, General,
Or the Marshall himself will come."
"I'll not surrender to you, Sirs,"
The old man answered calmly,
"Nor to you nor to the Marshall
Will I give my sword away,
Though the Czar himself demand it
Though I'm old, I'll not surrender,
But with sword I'll fight the battle
While my heart yet beats within me.
Even were there not so much as
One last Pole upon this planet,
I will be compelled to perish
For the good of my dear country,
And the fathers who begot me
I must perish in the trenches,
Sword in hand 'til death still fighting
'Gainst . . . the enemies of Poland . . .
That ... this city might remember
And our little children, too
Who today are in their cradles
As the bombs play in their ears.
I will fight that these, our children
When they're grown, may well remember
That this day upon the ramparts
Died a General -- with leg of wood. When I walked about the city,
The youth would often laugh at me
For walking on a stick of wood,
And stumbling, old man, constantly.
Let them now pronounce the verdict,
Does this wooden leg well serve me,
Will it direct me straight to God,
And will it take me there quickly?
My adjutants, stupid dandies,
On your healthy legs so agile,
When the battle cry was sounded
Made good use of such good legs,
Whereas I upon this altar
Lean and rest, a crippled man,
I can't go in search of death,
But it will come in search of me.
Do not kneel thus, Sirs, before me,
I am not a holy man.
But I am a Pole of honor
Struggling to defend ... my life ...
I forsooth am not a martyr,
But I'll hold on 'til the end
And whom I can I'll slaughter,
I'll give blood ... but not my sword."
Thus spoke General Sowinski,
Old man with a wooden leg . . .
Then with flashing sword the General,
Held the bayonets at bay;
'Til one of the older soldiers
Stabbed him mortally in the breast...
Leaning lifeless 'gainst the altar
Standing on his leg ... of wood...
-translated by Walter Whipple
http://www.mission.net/poland/warsaw/literature/poems/sowinski.htm
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. I envy general Sowiński his beautiful death.
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