Krupecki, an immense dealer in fancy goods
and colonial wares, and especially well known in
Warsaw as selling sugar at the lowest price in
the city.

Within half an hour after the military entered
the house, an officer from a window in the first
story ordered the street to be cleared of people.
Then down came panes of glass, then window-frames,
and immediately afterwards a wardrobe
from the third story; this was a sign for the
work of destruction to begin. Furniture was
hurled out from all the windows; five grand
pianos among other articles, one belonging to
the Polish composer, Chopin, and in the possession
of his sister, who resided here. A nursemaid,
who, on the outbreak of this disorder, seemed
to lose her wits, ran away, leaving behind her
the child committed to her care. The family
was from home. Shortly afterwards recovering
her senses, she returned to the house and
endeavoured to enter, but she was driven back
by the muskets, and cried bitterly. A few
minutes later a cradle was flung from the
window, and, if I am not greatly mistaken, a
child was in it; next followed a bookcase; and
then all were burned in a confused heap.

Within the house all the men were forcibly
driven ont of their dwellings in the various
stories, to the halls on the ground floor; but
the women were prevented from following
them, and then began horrors that cannot be
described. Two women killed themselves, to
escape outrage. I saw at the fourth window of
the third story a young lady seized by two
soldiers, her clothes torn and her neck bleeding;
she was forced back into the room. The
shrieks she sent forth, sound yet in my ears.
An old gentleman was standing at my side;
tears flowed from his eyes, and he stammered
time after time, "Jesus! Maria! help us!"
The flames blazed up aloft, and with their
fiery tongues licked the walls of the Church
of the Cross. The fire brigade rushed to the
spot, but were immediately dismissed by the
colonel in command. Cossacks sprang hither
and thither, and began to drive the people to
the right and left with their whips. I could
scarcely keep myself on my feet, and returned
to the hotel. On my way, I met the troop of
artillery hastening to the Zamoyski Palace, but
its destruction was deferred, in consequence of a
command from St. Petersburg.

This was what they called divine vengeance.
When the retribution for our wrongs comes,
woe to the Muscovite tyrants!

The day after this outrage, a dragoon standing
by the Church of the Cross sold one string of
pearls after another for two silver roubles each.
From the Countess Branicka alone, jewels to the
value of 300,000 roubles were taken. On the
same day, however, the colonel who, during the
plundering, permitted such horrors to take
place, was condemned by the national tribunal,
and the sentence was immediately executed.
The following morning he was no longer
among the living.

The Belvedere is the summer residence of the
Russian governor. Here Constantine, the uncle
of the present grand-duke of that name, lived,
and here many a tragedy was enacted which
remained unknown to the public. Yet who
does not shudder as he remembers the old Pole,
before whose eyes his dishonoured daughter
destroyed herself, when he had sought for and
found her in the chamber of Constantine! The
old man, who went mad at the sight, took the
corpse on his back, and, running through the
city, called aloud for vengeance. Here, two
years since, that same Prince Gortschakoff who
commanded the people before the castle to be
fired upon, died a horrible death. Everywhere
he beheld the forms of women clothed in mourning,
and blood-stained phantoms. Swearing an
oath that the command for the horrible slaughter
did not proceed from him, he died in violent
and appalling convulsions.

The Belvedere is surrounded by a beautiful
English park, but no one now visits its alleys or
its gardens. As in William Tell's time, every
one must uncover his head before the grand-duke
and his wife, or run the risk of imprisonment
The Poles never place themselves in a position
where they may encounter the pro-consul.
The grand-duke himself arrested any who did
not salute him. On the day he left, the
grand-duchess, on her way to the station, met two
monks of the Capuchin order who did not
salute her, because they had on their capuches.
She ordered the carriage to stop, and commanded
a policeman to bring up the two Capuchin
brothers, and, thinking that one of them did not
look like a monk, she ordered him to prison.
Very probably he is by this time in Siberia.

The Senate-house stands in the middle of the
city; it is a large building, in which not only
the commercial government has its seat, but the
police its bureaus and prisons. From the latter
were sent during the first months of last year
no fewer than fourteen thousand five hundred
prisoners. In other portions of the same building
are magnificent rooms, in which the city
formerly celebrated its festivities. One division
of the fire brigade is stationed in one of the
inner courts. There have been erected in various
parts of Warsaw, as in St. Petersburg and
Moscow, lofty towers in which a fire-watch is
on guard, who, by the ringing of a bell, give
notice of the outbreak of fire, when the engines
are immediately despatched to the scene of
conflagration. This is the only good measure
introduced by Russian organisation. The firemen
in Warsaw consist solely of Poles, and this is an
acknowledgment of the intelligent courage they
show in the hour of danger. In the lower story
of the Senate-house the Commission of Taxes
sits, the work of which is entirely performed
by soldiers. The revenue of the Russian government,
as well in Russia as in Poland, is derived,
for the most part, from the farming or leasing
out of the brandy excise, which in Russia brings
in three-sevenths of the whole collective revenue.
The farmers or lessees of the brandy excise have
the right of establishing as many public-houses
as they please, and fixing the legal price of brandy