“Gentlemen,” said I to them, “we are now met on purpose to carry a king out of the midst of his own capital. Those capable of attempting such a bold enterprise, are alone capable of effecting it: either success or death awaits on us!”
After this short harangue we prepare to depart. Kaluvski, forewarned of our design, had already procured twelve waggons, loaded with hay and straw, each of which was drawn by four good horses.
We instantly disguise ourselves as peasants; we hide our clothes, our sabres, our pistols, and the saddles of our horses, in the hay with which our waggons were partly filled; we agree upon certain signs, and I give them a watch-word, to be used according to circumstances.—Twelve of the conspirators, commanded by Kaluvski, enter into Warsaw, accompanied by as many waggons, which they themselves conduct. I divide the rest of my little troop into several brigades, on purpose to avert suspicion: each is ordered to march at some distance from the other, and to gain the capital by different gates.
We depart, and on Saturday the 2d of November, 1771, arrive at Warsaw, and lodge together at a convent belonging to the Dominicans.
On the next day, which was Sunday, and which will for ever form a memorable epoch in the annals of Poland, one of my people of the name of Stravinski, being covered with rags, places himself near the collegiate church, and soon after proceeds demanding charity even at the gates of the royal palace, where he observes every thing that passed. Several of the conspirators walked up and down the six narrow streets, in the neighbourhood of the great square, where Kaluvski and myself were posted. We remain in ambuscade during the whole day, and part of the afternoon.
At six o’clock at night the king leaves the palace; he is followed, and is seen to enter the hotel of his uncle, the grand chancellor of Lithuania.
All our followers receive notice of this event, and assemble instantly: they throw off their miserable clothes, saddle their horses, and prepare their arms, in the large square belonging to the convent, where their movements are entirely concealed. They then sally forth, one after the other, under favour of the night. Too well known in Warsaw to hazard appearing there, without disguising my self, I still wear my peasant’s dress, and I mount an excellent horse, caparisoned, however, after the common manner.
I then point out my followers the different posts in the suburbs, which I had assigned them before our departure from the convent, and they were dispersed in such a manner, that all the avenues to the palace of the grand chancellor were carefully and strictly guarded.
Between nine and ten o’clock at night, the king comes forth on purpose to return home; and we remark, with joy, that his attendants were far from being numerous.
The carriage was preceded by two men, who carried flambeaux, some officers of his suit, two gentlemen and an esquire followed. I know not what was the name of the grandee in the coach along with the king. There were two pages, one to each door, two haydukes running by the side of the equipage, and three footmen, in the royal livery behind.