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Thaddeus of Warsaw
This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.
592 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1803
About the author
Jane Porter
124 books31 followersJane Porter, sometimes credited as "Miss Jane Porter", was an English romantic novelist of Irish descent who co-wrote many works with her sister, Anna Maria Porter. She was born in the Bailey in Durham City.
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name.
Jane^^Porter
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name.
Jane^^Porter
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
June 12, 2014
One can certainly understand why, despite the fact that it explicitly claims the honor, few people consider this to be the first historical novel: although it begins by chronicling the end days before Poland's Partition, it rapidly shifts into a more typical romance mode. Certainly an interesting work, particularly for the way it subtly stages a tension between historical tragedy and romantic fiction, and overall a fairly pleasant read.
December 31, 2016
This is beautifully written with a complex plot that takes a lot of turns and twists to the final disclosures. One of the early examples of historical fiction, but will be appreciated by fans of the Brontes and Elizabeth Gaskell.
Read
October 10, 2024Glad I read this ridiculous cross between historical fiction and a "silver fork" romance that was one of the bestsellers of the 19th century. The prose is very stately, the travails of poor, noble Thaddeus suitably excessive (at least 5 beloved family members and friends die in his arms over the course of the novel, not to mention debtors' prison and being forced to teach languages to frivolous young ladies who are too thoughtless to pay him while he is too proud and cognizant of the dignity of his ancient name to request wages, and so on), and the family intrigues and secret marriages as "extra" as one could wish. Good stuff! Also the footnotes in the "extended" 1844 edition are frequently hilarious and not infrequently very informative as to the changes in the landscape of London between 1803 and the 1840s.
February 28, 2022
This is an amazing read! Yes, it's old-fashioned and a little blush-worthy in spots where the writing is much more gushing and dramatic than we are used to; but it's history, folks. My copy had a preface that Jane Porter wrote later in life, sharing how this book includes her own memories of Polish refugees she saw in London as a little girl. Here is a touching excerpt:
In the days of my almost childhood,—that is, eight years before I dipped my pen in their tears,—I remember seeing many of those hapless refugees wandering about St. James's Park. They had sad companions in the like miseries, though from different enemies, in the emigrants from France; and memory can never forget the variety of wretched yet noble-looking visages I then contemplated in the daily walks which my mother's own little family group were accustomed to take there. One person, a gaunt figure, with melancholy and bravery stamped on his emaciated features, is often present to the recollection of us all. He was clad in a threadbare blue uniform great coat, with a black stock, a rusty old hat, pulled rather over his eyes; his hands without gloves; but his aspect was that of a perfect gentleman, and his step that of a military man. We saw him constantly at one hour, in the middle walk of the Mall, and always alone; never looking to the right nor to the left, but straight on; with an unmoving countenance, and a pace which told that his thoughts were those of a homeless and hopeless man—hopeless, at least, of all that life might bring him. On, on he went to the end of the Mall; turned again, and on again; and so he continued to do always, as long as we remained spectators of his solitary walk: once, indeed, we saw him crossing into St. Martin's Lane. Nobody seemed to know him, for he spoke to none; and no person ever addressed him, though many, like ourselves, looked at him, and stopped in the path to gaze after him. We often longed to be rich, to follow him wherever his wretched abode might have been, and then silently to send comforts to him from hands he knew not of. We used to call him, when speaking of him to ourselves, Il Penseroso; and by that name we yet not unfrequently talk of him to each other, and never without recurrence to the very painful, because unavailing, sympathy we then felt for that apparently friendless man. Such sympathy is, indeed, right; for it is one of the secondary means by which Providence conducts the stream of his mercies to those who need the succor of their fellow-creatures; and we cannot doubt that, though the agency of such Providence was not to be in our hands, there were those who had both the will and the power given, and did not, like ourselves, turn and pity that interesting emigrant in vain.
I think she always hoped that someone helped that poor man, and this book was her apology for her childish helplessness to aid him.
The story itself is grand. I think what I love best about Thaddeus as a man, is that she made him strong and brave and a warrior, but he also reads his Bible and prays without shame, and it only adds to his other strengths.
If you love history and Poland, you've got to read this book! Just be warned: very old-fashioned, dramatic writing.
Extra bonus: Read free on gutenberg.org!
In the days of my almost childhood,—that is, eight years before I dipped my pen in their tears,—I remember seeing many of those hapless refugees wandering about St. James's Park. They had sad companions in the like miseries, though from different enemies, in the emigrants from France; and memory can never forget the variety of wretched yet noble-looking visages I then contemplated in the daily walks which my mother's own little family group were accustomed to take there. One person, a gaunt figure, with melancholy and bravery stamped on his emaciated features, is often present to the recollection of us all. He was clad in a threadbare blue uniform great coat, with a black stock, a rusty old hat, pulled rather over his eyes; his hands without gloves; but his aspect was that of a perfect gentleman, and his step that of a military man. We saw him constantly at one hour, in the middle walk of the Mall, and always alone; never looking to the right nor to the left, but straight on; with an unmoving countenance, and a pace which told that his thoughts were those of a homeless and hopeless man—hopeless, at least, of all that life might bring him. On, on he went to the end of the Mall; turned again, and on again; and so he continued to do always, as long as we remained spectators of his solitary walk: once, indeed, we saw him crossing into St. Martin's Lane. Nobody seemed to know him, for he spoke to none; and no person ever addressed him, though many, like ourselves, looked at him, and stopped in the path to gaze after him. We often longed to be rich, to follow him wherever his wretched abode might have been, and then silently to send comforts to him from hands he knew not of. We used to call him, when speaking of him to ourselves, Il Penseroso; and by that name we yet not unfrequently talk of him to each other, and never without recurrence to the very painful, because unavailing, sympathy we then felt for that apparently friendless man. Such sympathy is, indeed, right; for it is one of the secondary means by which Providence conducts the stream of his mercies to those who need the succor of their fellow-creatures; and we cannot doubt that, though the agency of such Providence was not to be in our hands, there were those who had both the will and the power given, and did not, like ourselves, turn and pity that interesting emigrant in vain.
I think she always hoped that someone helped that poor man, and this book was her apology for her childish helplessness to aid him.
The story itself is grand. I think what I love best about Thaddeus as a man, is that she made him strong and brave and a warrior, but he also reads his Bible and prays without shame, and it only adds to his other strengths.
If you love history and Poland, you've got to read this book! Just be warned: very old-fashioned, dramatic writing.
Extra bonus: Read free on gutenberg.org!
February 19, 2018
An AMAZING read!
I am reminded by this read just how much we have fallen in this country in regards to the education of our people. This was written in a time when most men read but the story is appropriate for either sex. While it contains the history of wars to satisfy the males it also contains beautiful portrayals of daily life and the old grand curiosities of the sexes. Very throughly researched and beautiful written.
I am reminded by this read just how much we have fallen in this country in regards to the education of our people. This was written in a time when most men read but the story is appropriate for either sex. While it contains the history of wars to satisfy the males it also contains beautiful portrayals of daily life and the old grand curiosities of the sexes. Very throughly researched and beautiful written.
February 17, 2011
Re-reading this for pithy quotes.
Very entertaining.
Very entertaining.
Read
February 19, 2012Go through the worse in life and survive with dignity. Well written except the ending pages...maybe too much there.
Agree
Agree
August 13, 2012
One of my favorites of all time. Surviving difficulty with flying colors. Inspiring! The end was not so hot and the book could have ended a chapter sooner.
Read
December 29, 2012Skimmed this one for thesis work... Any page that I saw "Kosciuszko" I read.
January 1, 2015
This four volume historical novel set in 18th Century Poland.
December 31, 2022
It’s nice to read about a pioneer in literature, but actually reading their work? Sorry.
August 18, 2024
These accounts by Jane Porter (including Scottish Chiefs) may have been a little romanticized, but they SHAPED my young adult years. Maybe more than a little.
August 21, 2023
This is a really good book. It is quite dramatic, with copious amounts of elaborate emotions and conversation, but the late 18th century descriptions are great, and so are the morals and sentiments. Jane Austen is now by far the most famous author of this time period, but the reality of those times are addressed by Jane Porter in a way expressed by no one else who lived during that era – from how England and English people reacted to the partition of Poland, to the philosophy and morals (or lack thereof), held by the people of the Regency era.
Being English, the author of course has an overwhelming sympathy for anything monarchy, which is amusing. But she heaps a gratifying (and sometimes embarrassing) amount of compassion and admiration onto the Polish people, and especially onto her main character, Thaddeus Sobieski. Along with Mary, Thaddeus really makes the book worth reading. He is just that amazing and good, but still courageous and fearless and heroic. He also knows how to do his duty – even if it does mean getting into alarming, irreparable situations.
Mary is now one of my favorite female characters of literature, and one of the most relatable; she has such faultless morality, like Thaddeus, with beauty and compassion to match an absolutely sweet temperament. It seems like everything is against Thaddeus for most of the book, (and yes, it’s very depressing), however you cannot stop yourself from charging ahead, even skipping some long, tedious sections in desperation to get to when it all works out. And it does work out in the end pretty beautifully and in a very dramatic way. I did get confused in the oddly boring last chapter, though.
Storyline, romance, content, morals – exceptional; historical content unmatched. The world ignores most of the pain and destruction the partitions of Poland caused, but around this little-discussed topic, Jane Porter wound a story for the ages.
Niech żyje Polska!
Being English, the author of course has an overwhelming sympathy for anything monarchy, which is amusing. But she heaps a gratifying (and sometimes embarrassing) amount of compassion and admiration onto the Polish people, and especially onto her main character, Thaddeus Sobieski. Along with Mary, Thaddeus really makes the book worth reading. He is just that amazing and good, but still courageous and fearless and heroic. He also knows how to do his duty – even if it does mean getting into alarming, irreparable situations.
Mary is now one of my favorite female characters of literature, and one of the most relatable; she has such faultless morality, like Thaddeus, with beauty and compassion to match an absolutely sweet temperament. It seems like everything is against Thaddeus for most of the book, (and yes, it’s very depressing), however you cannot stop yourself from charging ahead, even skipping some long, tedious sections in desperation to get to when it all works out. And it does work out in the end pretty beautifully and in a very dramatic way. I did get confused in the oddly boring last chapter, though.
Storyline, romance, content, morals – exceptional; historical content unmatched. The world ignores most of the pain and destruction the partitions of Poland caused, but around this little-discussed topic, Jane Porter wound a story for the ages.
Niech żyje Polska!
April 9, 2016
This is the sort of book that gave novel reading (especially for Young Ladies) a bad name. Utterly addictive and totally over the top both in plot and characterisation. Phemy is truly a girl for our times.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews