antique splendour and beauty of the incomparable city of Prague
became indelibly stamped on my fancy. Even in my own family
surroundings I found attractions to which I had hitherto been a
stranger. For instance, my sister Ottilie, only two years older
than myself, had won the devoted friendship of a noble family,
that of Count Pachta, two of whose daughters, Jenny and Auguste,
who had long been famed as the leading beauties of Prague, had
become fondly attached to her. To me, such people and such a
connection were something quite novel and enchanting. Besides
these, certain beaux esprits of Prague, among them W. Marsano, a
strikingly handsome and charming man, were frequent visitors at
our house. They often earnestly discussed the tales of Hoffmann,
which at that date were comparatively new, and had created some
sensation. It was now that I made my first though rather
superficial acquaintance with this romantic visionary, and so
received a stimulus which influenced me for many years even to
the point of infatuation, and gave me very peculiar ideas of the
world.

In the following spring, 1827, I repeated this journey from
Dresden to Prague, but this time on foot, and accompanied by my
friend Rudolf Bohme. Our tour was full of adventure. We got to
within an hour of Teplitz the first night, and next day we had to
get a lift in a wagon, as we had walked our feet sore; yet this
only took us as far as Lowositz, as our funds had quite run out.
Under a scorching sun, hungry and half-fainting, we wandered
along bypaths through absolutely unknown country, until at
sundown we happened to reach the main road just as an elegant
travelling coach came in sight. I humbled my pride so far as to
pretend I was a travelling journeyman, and begged the