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
distinguishing 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.
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