Infernal machines

"Until 1863 Paris was the only city in which endeavors had been made
to assassinate the head of the Government by means of shells,
manybarreled pieces of artillery, and other 'infernal' devices. But
the Poles have always prided themselves on their aptitude in
appropriating French ideas...
"In the autumn of 1863, when the insurrection was failing, and when
the somewhat theatrical interest taken in it by the Western powers
seemed to be coming to an end, the National Government of Poland
resolved on striking a great blow. One afternoon, when Count Berg was
driving along one of the principal streets in Warsaw, several shells
were hurled at his carriage from a large building known as the
'Zamoiski House,' the property of the well-known Polish magnate whose
name it bore. Five shells were thrown, and several horses and one or
two aides-de-camp were wounded. Count Berg received the splinter of a
shell in his cloak, but was not otherwise injured, either in person or
in apparel. The Count, without stopping, drove straight to the Castle,
his official residence, and immediately afterward troops were
dispatched to the Zamoiski House, with orders to enter it and arrest
the numerous inhabitants. Artillery was at the same time sent forward,
and on arrival took up a position in front of the building. It
appeared certain that the order on the subject of missile-throwing
would be carried out. But at the last moment it was decided not to
destroy the Zamoiski House, but to confiscate it, after subjecting it
to the process of sacking. The soldiers were ordered to seize all
articles of furniture and cast them into the street, where they were
burned in a huge bonfire, which was fed, among other articles, with
valuable historical manuscripts, the property of Prince Lubomirski, a
great collector of archaeological documents, and with Chopin's
favorite piano. Some four or five different pianos were thrown out of
the various floors; and an indignant, but more or less self-contained,
amateur of music afterward related, to the correspondent of the
'Times' present on the occasion, in what manner the pianos of Erard,
of Pleyel, and of other makers, had borne the effect of the fall. The
pianos of Viennese make were worth nothing. he said, on such
occasions. They smashed to pieces on contact with the ground. A well-
made Erard, on the other hand, pitched from a second floor, suffered
only in its legs. As for Chopin's piano, it fell, as this observant
connoisseur declared, with a deep sigh, in which he fancied he
recognized the soul of the sentimental, romantic, fascinating
composer, who had so often given effect to his inspiration on its
ivory keys; and it was asserted that one Russian officer of a
sympathetic disposition played fragments of one of the composer's
nocturnes on Chopin's piano before he allowed the instrument - broken
into fragments by its fall - to be consigned to the flames."
(Appletons' Journal, 06.1880)