Kościuszko's ship lay at anchor was a triumphal progress. He was accompanied by English officers in full dress, by the American consul and a host of well-wishers. All heads were bared as he was carried on board. The whole length of the river handkerchiefs were waved from the banks. Farewells resounded from every rock and promontory, where spectators had crowded to see the last of the Polish hero. Boats shot out from the private dwellings on the waterside, laden with flowers and fruits for the departing guest. Not a few men and women boarded the ship and accompanied Kościuszko for some distance before they could bring themselves to part with him.
For nearly two months Kościuszko and his Polish companions tossed on the Atlantic, running on one occasion a near chance of shipwreck. Philadelphia was their destination. Once in America, Kościuszko trod soil familiar and dear to him. "I look upon America," he said, replying in French to the deputation of Philadelphia's citizens who came on board to welcome him, "as my second country, and I feel myself too happy when I return to her." The cannon from the fort and a storm of cheering greeted him as he landed, and amidst cries of "Long live Kościuszko!" the citizens drew his carriage to his lodging.
Washington had just ceased to be President. His successor, Adams, wrote congratulating Kościuszko on his arrival, "after the glorious efforts you have made on a greater theatre."[1] Washington wrote also:" Having just been informed of your safe arrival in America, I was on the point of writing
- ↑ Op. cit.
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