the large squares troops of young Polesses in light-coloured
silk mantles engaged in conversation; venerable old Polish
gentlemen with moustaches, caftan, girdle, sword, and yellow
and red boots; and the new generation in the most incroyable
Parisian fashion. Turks, Greeks, Russians, Italians, and
French in an ever-changing throng; moreover, an exceedingly
tolerant police that interfered nowise with the popular
amusements, so that in squares and streets there moved about
incessantly Pulchinella theatres, dancing bears, camels, and
monkeys, before which the most elegant carriages as well as
porters stopped and stood gaping.

Thus pictures J. E. Hitzig, the biographer of E. Th. A. Hoffmann,
and himself a sojourner in Warsaw, the life of the Polish capital
in 1807. When Nicholas Chopin saw it first the spectacle in the
streets was even more stirring, varied, and brilliant; for then
Warsaw was still the capital of an independent state, and the
pending and impending political affairs brought to it magnates
from all the principal courts of Europe, who vied with each other
in the splendour of their carriages and horses, and in the number
and equipment of their attendants.

In the introductory part of this work I have spoken of the
misfortunes that befel Poland and culminated in the first
partition. But the buoyancy of the Polish character helped the
nation to recover sooner from this severe blow than could have
been expected. Before long patriots began to hope that the
national disaster might be turned into a blessing. Many
circumstances favoured the realisation of these hopes. Prussia,
on discovering that her interests no longer coincided with those