Today
is Casimir Pulaski Day. If you just responded with a “huh?”
you don’t live in Illinois where it
is an official state holiday
celebrating Polish ethnic pride and political clout. And, by the way, the Revolutionary War officer remembered as the Father of the Cavalry who died in a glorious but reckless lancer charge on British artillery at the siege of Savanah.
For
decades Chicago’s
huge Polish community—the Toddling Town
was the largest Polish city in the world—yearned for acceptance
and proof that they had muscled
their way at last to equal recognition with the city’s other major ethnic groups. The damned
Irish, who lorded it over everyone
else had St. Patrick’s
Day and two, count ‘em, two big Parades one on the South Side and the Daley
extravaganza on State Street. The Italians
had Columbus Day and their own big parade plus the Outfit which pretty much ran a
lot of the city and all of those pizza
parlors. The Puerto Ricans had their Independence
Day and Humboldt Park even if
they never got any real independence.
The Mexicans got Cinco de Mayo which wasn’t even much of
a thing south of the border. And then when Martin Luther King died, Blacks started demanding a holiday in his honor even though the Poles had been
here longer and had patiently waited
their turn.
The
Polish community pinned their hopes for
recognition on the Continental Army officer. They could have picked another Polish emigre soldier, Thaddeus Kosciuszko, who played a much more significant role in Polish
history. He was commissioned a Colonel and served as an engineering officer under General Horatio Gates. He distinguished
himself at the Battle of Saratoga where
he laid out the Continental defenses around Bemis Hill that would confound
all of Gentleman Johnny Burgoyne’s
attempts to attack. Later he
constructed the fortifications of Fort
Clinton at West Point then commanded by Benedict Arnold. Then
he served with great distinction in the Sothern
Campaign under Nathanial Green. At war’s end he was promoted to Brigadier General, but found that
collecting his seven years back pay was
nearly impossible.
After
returning to Poland Kosciuszko became a hero and commander in the Polish–Russian War of 1792. That war ended with loss of territory
which extended Russian influence over much of the Commonwealth. In 1794 the country faced partition between surrounding powers
Russia, Austria, and Prussia. He became commander-in-chief of the insurrection
that became known as the Kosciuszko
Uprising and defended Warsaw from
onslaughts by the Prussians and Russians.
Eventually he was wounded,
captured, and imprisoned by the Russians during the Third Partition of Poland. After
finally being pardoned,
he returned to the United States as
an exile. He eventually returned to Europe where he
engaged in talks to lead a Polish force in Napoleon’s
army in exchange for French support for a liberal Polish republic. When
Napoleon showed himself to be a dictator
and only hoping to use the Poles as a pawn
he abandoned that project.
Kosciuszko was a true Democrat in
Poland he advocated not just the emancipation
of serfs and Jews, but offering them full citizenship rights. In his will he left his American
holdings to a fund to free the slaves—which American
courts refused to honor. Kosciuszko
died in Switzerland at the age of 71
in 1817. He was revered as a Polish
national hero.
You
would think such a man would be the one Chicago’s Poles would choose to be their
symbolic secular saint. Instead, they picked the dashing cavalryman. Poles are at heart deeply romantic and the cavalry holds a special place in the national
identity. Units of hussars
and later lighter uhlans were
the core of Polish armies and their most successful forces. A man
on horseback who died gloriously
easily trumped an engineer, no
matter how skilled or useful.
Casimir
Pulaski, son a Polish noble was born
on March 6, 1745 in Warsaw. After the election of King Stanisław
II August of the Polish-Lithuanian
Commonwealth in 1764 his father became one of the leaders of the Bar Confederation, which saw the King Stanisław
as a Russian puppet and sought to
end Russian hegemony over the Commonwealth and restore the traditional role
of the nobility in a decentralized
semi-feudal governance. The
Bar Confederation went into open
rebellion and young Casimir was commissioned as a cavalry officer fighting
both the King’s loyal forces and the Russians.
He
proved to be an adept,
skillful, and audacious commander
of a Banner—the basic unit of Polish cavalry which was recruited and paid by the
noble families sponsoring them—rising quickly after a series of victories in
1768. He was captured by the Russians that June after leading a two week defense
in the siege of a monastery in Berdyczów. He was paroled after pledging to renounce his allegiance to the Bar Confederation and not again take up arms against the King. When he returned to Warsaw he declared that
he did not consider his renunciation binding
because it was given under duress. Many Bar leaders, including his father,
considered the renunciation dishonorable
and even pressed for a court martial.
But
the rebels needed quality commanders and eventually he was reinstated however grudgingly. He served with notable distinction
thought the rest of the war until 1772 when the Bar Confederation was finally
defeated. During this time he won many victories and fame and was raised to the
command of a regiment of
several banners. He often operated independently and sometime refused to coordinate with other commands and units. He was considered a loose cannon and increasingly at
odds with the political leadership of the Confederation.
The
resistance was hard pressed by numerically
superior forces including large Russian formations and by Austrians and Prussians equally eager to carve up Poland 1772. In some desperation Pulaski agreed to join a plot to kidnap the King. The plot
was foiled and revealed forcing Pulaski to flee
to France. He was tried in absentia, convicted of
attempted regicide, stripped of all property, and sentenced to
death. Because of the regicide charge he could
not be given official sanctuary in Paris and had to stay there illegally. His attempts to offer his services to the
French and other armies were rebuffed.
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Pulaski survived with the support of a Polish exile
community but was occasionally
imprisoned for debt. He did meet liberal French aristocrats
like the young Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette who in turn
introduced him to American minister
Benjamin Franklin who was looking for experienced
European officers to serve the Continental Army in 1777. Franklin was
deeply impressed by Pulaski and by his military
reputation. He
wrote an effusive letter of recommendation to
General Washington, “Count
Pulaski of Poland, an officer famous throughout Europe for his bravery and
conduct in defense of the liberties of
his country against the three great invading
powers of Russia, Austria and Prussia ... may be highly useful to our
service.” The grandiose title of Count
was Franklin’s invention to impress Congress.
The title did not exist in Poland and as a younger son of a nobleman, Pulaski had no title at all beyond his military rank.
Armed with the letter Pulaski sailed for North America arriving in Marblehead, Massachusetts in July
of 1777. He met with Washington in August. The commanding General always had a soft spot for adventurous and idealistic
young European officers. Besides which
his rag-tag army was nearly bereft of organized cavalry beyond
small units used as scouts and couriers. But Washington could not unilaterally appoint
him an officer. That required
Congressional action which was slow in coming because Congress was leery of the minor onslaught of European volunteers
and the salaries to which they would
be entitled. For several weeks Pulaski remained an unofficial member of Washington’s retinue and made visits to Philadelphia to plead his case.
While still technically a civilian, Pulaski rode with the 30 members of Washington’s personal mounted guard on a reconnaissance during the Battle of Brandywine on September 11,
1777 as the main body of the army was under heavy pressure. He discovered British movements to cut off Washington’s line of retreat. The General directed him to intercept and collect troops he encountered and to use them “at his discretion” to protect and cover the
Continental retreat. He led a charge that saved the undertrained and
armed cavalry, kept the lines open, and was credited with saving the Army and Washington’s life. In his report to Congress Washington’s praise
was enough to finally earn Pulaski’s official appointment as a Brigadier General of Cavalry on
September 15.
He had not even officially learned of his appointment
the next day, although he was now operating as an officer, when he led a patrol that spotted a major British
force closing on Washington’s position.
Although a major storm disrupted the maneuver, Washington once again had reason to be
grateful.
That winter he went
into camp with the Army at Valley Forge where he urged the Army to
continue operations against the
enemy through the winter pointing out that in Poland campaigning continued
through the harsh weather. Because the British followed the Western
European custom of going into camp for the winter, Pulaski felt that they could be trapped and surprised. Washington,
who had one of his few outright battlefield
victories when he crossed the Delaware on Christmas of
1776 to capture a Hessian garrison at
Trenton, New Jersey,
was sympathetic but his
officer’s council of war were unanimous in
opposition to the plan. Instead,
Pulaski spent the winter planning his reorganization
of Continental cavalry and drafting
the first regulations for the formation.
He then joined the bulk of the cavalry at
Trenton to begin training them. While
there Pulaski supported Washington’s
capable commander in New Jersey, “Mad” Anthony Wayne in his
activities in Southern New Jersey. On February
28 Pulaski led 50 horsemen to intercept a much larger force under Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Stirling at Burlington who was convinced that he
had encountered a much superior unit and prepared to withdraw across the Delaware. The next day Wayne and Pulaski’s combined
force hit Stirling while still in camp. Pulaski’s horse was shot out from under him and his men took casualties. It was a minor skirmish, but disrupted
British operational plans.
Wayne commended Pulaski in his official
report but the cavalryman was disappointed
when Congress rejected his plan to recruit
and train a force of lancers and disgruntled that his promised pay was not forthcoming. He resigned as Brigadier of Cavalry in March
1778 and rejoined Washington at Valley Forge.
He then traveled south where he met
General Horatio Gates at Yorktown, Virginia who accepted
Pulaski’s plan and persuaded Congress to restore
his rank as Brigadier with the new title Commander of the Horse.
He was authorized to recruit a special unit of 68 Lancers and 200
supporting light infantry. He recruited the force in the horse country around Baltimore attracting young gentlemen of quality and European volunteers into the Pulaski Cavalry Legion. By
August 1789 it was nearly at full force and was undergoing rigorous
training. With pay and supplies from
Congress still not forthcoming, Pulaski used his own slender purse and donations from the local aristocracy to uniform, arm,
and equip his command to the highest
standards. He quickly had one of the
Continental Army’s first true elite
units.
Despite his personal sacrifices, tight
fisted Congressional auditors challenged his expenses and some local landowners complained of being subjected to excessive requisition to supply his troops. He was plagued by this on-going investigation for the rest of his life. And after death attempts were made to get “restitution” from his nearly nonexistent estate.
In October Pulaski endured one of the few
disastrous defeats of his career. His
Legion accompanied by three other companies of light infantry and other cavalry
was sent to Little Egg Harbor district
in Southern New Jersey to disrupt anti-smuggling activities by Captain Patrick Ferguson who was also
trying to retrieve goods taken by
American privateers. A deserter
informed Ferguson about a camp of an infantry company along with word that adequate sentries had not been
posted. Ferguson surprised the camp at
dawn, killing 50 patriots by bayonet and capturing 5 before Pulaski’s
Legion arrived on the scene drove Ferguson off capturing a few stragglers who could not reach their
boats.
In early 1779 Pulaski was ordered to join
the Sullivan Expedition against the British allied Iroquois who were
devastating the Mohawk Valley in upstate New York. He did not relish the prospect of frontier service away from the main theaters of action against the
British. He also felt, rightly, that the
heavily wooded semi-wilderness was
not suitable for his mounted force. He
threatened to once again resign and return to Europe but instead asked for
re-assignment to the Southern Command. Washington sent him to Charleston, South Carolina where he reported for
duty on May 8 while the city was preparing for a siege by British Brigadier General Augustine Prevost who
had caught American General Benjamin
Lincoln’s troops attempting to re-take
Savanah, Georgia and chased the undisciplined
mostly militia force back to
Charleston. Pulaski’s Legion was sent
out to blunt the British advance on May 11 and was badly mauled by the superior
force. In fact, he lost most of the
60 infantry Legionaries he had with him.
But the action caused Prevost to retreat toward Savanah.
Back in Charleston Pulaski suffered from bouts with malaria but
remained in active command of his
unit. In September Lincoln planned a
push to retake Savanah with reinforcements by French troops under Admiral Charles Hector,
Comte d’Estaing. The
Legion was sent to Augusta, Georgia
to join General Lachlan McIntosh in
command of Georgia forces as the forward
elements of Lincoln’s army. After
capturing an important British outpost on the Ogeechee River the Legion became the advance guard of d’Estaing’s force. During the Siege of Savanah, he was placed in command of all cavalry forces
both French and American. During an
attack across the narrow causeway leading
to Savanah on October 9, French troops began to buckle under intense British
artillery fire. To rally them, Pulaski
led a desperate charge up the
causeway directly into the mouth of the British Guns. It was brave but foolhardy. He was unhorsed by a devastating round of grape shot and the charge was
broken.
Pulaski was carried unconscious from the
field and evacuated to the South Carolina privateer Wasp for medical attention. How and where he died are in dispute. Some accounts say he died of his wounds on
board the Wasp on October 11 and was buried at sea. Others say he was landed and taken to the Greenwich plantation in Thunderbolt, near Savannah, where he
died and was buried in an unmarked grave. On October 21 he received a symbolic burial with full military honors in Charleston.
The Siege of Savanah was broken and
Lincoln had to retreat to Charleston. In
March of 1780 the city was surrounded by a new 5,000 man British Army under General Henry Clinton. He was forced to surrender the city on May 12, although most of the South Carolina
Militia and some Continentals were able to escape. It was the worst defeat in the Southern
theater.
Pulaski’s dramatic but wasteful sacrifice
was widely praised. He became a national hero with towns and counties in
George, Tennessee, and elsewhere named for him. Monuments were erected including one
at the symbolic grave which was dedicated by the Marquis de Lafayette in
a Masonic service during his 1825 Grand Tour. His bust
was also enshrined in the U.S. Capitol’s Hall of Heroes in
1867 and in an equestrian monument at
Freedom Plaza, 13th Street and Pennsylvania Avenue in 1910. In 2009 President
Barack Obama signed legislation posthumously
confirming American citizenship only the 7th person so honored. There have also been commemorative medals struck and postage stamps issued.
But the struggle to get Illinois to
declare a holiday was epic in itself and a case study in ethnic pride and
politics. Back in 2000 while I was a
custodian at Briargate Elementary School
in Cary, Illinois I reflected
on that in a long poem I shared with
the staff when school was closed to students for the Holiday. Later it was reprinted in the UUNews, a weekly
unofficial UUA e-mail newsletter in which I was sort of a resident versifier.
Somehow it was discovered by some Polish-American
patriots who were very offended
to the point of threatening physical
violence.
You be the judge, because we are reaching way back and telling that part of
the story in the old ballad style.
| Governor Dan Walker signed the law creating Casimir Pulaski Day as an Illinois holiday. |
Come, Let Us
Venerate Him, St. Casimir Pulaski
This
year, of all years, St. Casimir Pulaski,
we genuflect our gratitude,
at this day which you and the State
of Illinois
in its infinite wisdom
have granted us.
So,
we sing your paeans and remember—
How
you, bright young Pole,
hero of your people,
burning with the Rights of Man
with dash, swagger, and soldierly
stupidity
consecrated yourself a martyr
upon the Redcoat cannon at Savannah.
And
it was you, in Great Chicago—Warsaw-by-the-Lake
who exiled Slavs,
fodder for the Stockyards,
taconite for blast furnaces,
faceless brawn in a thousand
factories,
charwomen of the high rise palaces
of privilege,
you they called to be their patron
and their hero.
It
was you they remembered
as they waited patiently for the
Irish dynasty to pass,
to take their turn at command,
to reap the spoils, plunder, and
patronage
due them for their steadfast,
plodding service.
And
it was to you they cried
when the niggers usurped their place
and when, with taunting arrogance,
dark Chicago named a feast for their
saint,
the same King who had marched
through
Polish bungalows and two flats
shattering the peace by inviting
stones with his head.
In
your name old Roman Puchinski,
the very Prince denied the throne
blocked a State feast until your
name
could be placed with Columbus and
St. Patrick
on the calendar of veneration,
until Harold Washington threw back
his massive head,
crinkled his eyes and boom his great
voice—
“It’s a deal!
I will come and stand by
you
at the Polish National
Alliance,
under the White Eagle
Flag
and listen to pretty
golden hair children in peasant dress
sing and spin to
accordions.
And you will come with
me in January
as we listen to some
bright preacher’s son
recite, ‘I Have a
Dream.’
Then both of us on St.
Patrick’s Day
will don green paper
derbies and broad sashes,
clutch blackthorn sticks
and arm in arm step off
lively
behind the wailing pipes
of the Shannon Rovers
as the Irish, green beer
in hand,
jeer and hiss us both as
interlopers and pretenders.”
—Patrick Murfin
As for the Illinois
Holiday, it has come in for hard times.
Concerned with lost instructional
times because of several holidays including the State observance of Abraham Lincoln’s Birthday and Veterans Day on November 11, the legislature made school closing optional with an application for an easily
obtained waiver. Over 75% of
Illinois school districts have done just that. Even in Chicago in 2012 the
Public Schools contract with the Chicago Teachers Union allowed that
massive system to opt out. Poles
were enraged but their political clout has greatly diminished as many of second and third generation have assimilated
and relocated to suburbia as part of the general ethnic White Flight. They have left behind vibrant but shrunken neighborhoods where the elderly first generation immigrants of the Post World War II years mingle with recent arrivals, many of them undocumented. From de facto control of
broad swaths of the Northwest, Southwest, and East sides. Their political influence has shrunk to a handful of wards largely supplanted by the rising Latino
communities, and the reverse
migration from the suburbs of young professionals
and hipsters.
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