Izabela Czartoryska – Fragments of Memoirs (Part 2)

During my stay in Tuczyn, having learned that Mr. Boreyko, a Volhynian landowner, possessed a remarkable garden in terms of the variety of shrubs and trees, I chose a fine day and went there with Adam Walewski, the Voivode’s brother.

Already upon entering the courtyard, I began to reflect on the surprise of Boreyko, who did not know me and had not been forewarned of my visit. But in a Polish house, it is needless to worry about one’s reception. Even before Mr. Boreyko knew who was arriving, his face already showed that he was glad of a guest. On alighting, when he asked me who I was, I replied that, knowing for a long time that the Czartoryski family had always been friends with the Boreykos, I had boldly driven to his house. At this, after further asking whether I was not Prince Adam’s wife, and having assured himself of it, he did not know how to express his joy. His wife and two charming, very young daughters surrounded me (so to speak) with friendship, attentions, and services. I found an excellent dinner, after which the host, with his little daughters, led me into the garden. The place itself, cheerful, green, and orderly, offered a pleasant walk. In addition, the rare collection of plants, trees, shrubs, and flowers astonished me greatly. Mr. Boreyko’s little daughters, the eldest of whom was no more than ten years old, knew all the names of the plants, their origin, and their qualities. The courteous host presented me with a considerable number of various shrubs and seemed happier in sharing them with me than while they adorned his own garden.

Returning to Tuczyn, we found everyone in good spirits.

Paweł Bieliński – Quarrel with Mrs. Sewerynowa – resolutions regarding ties with E.

From Tuczyn I set out with Zosia to Podolia. In the second carriage traveled Adam Walewski, Major Orłowski, and Mr. Jan Goltz. The first stop was in Zienków. These estates, inherited from my husband’s parents, are in a beautiful location. The castle stands on a high hill, with a vast view. Few trees, which greatly spoils and detracts from its beauty.

Antonin

From Mikołajów I went to Antonin, where Prince Eustachy Sanguszko has his residence. Having the Czartoryski name behind me, it was pleasant for me to stop in Antonin. I was received kindly: by the husband in a rough but cordial manner, by the wife politely; I spent two very cheerful days there.

He, occupied with the estate, guided me around the farm; she, wishing to love the garden, walked there with me. The children, beautiful but unruly, were constantly heard, for they would not sit in the room even for a moment, and since all the doors stood wide open, nothing could be concealed.

When I was leaving Mikołajów, the Granowski Cossacks declared that they must escort me to the border of our Podolian estates. There were about thirty of them. The whole road led through forest and was traveled at night, so they could not see where our lands ended. From this it happened that this little band of Cossacks followed me all the way to Antonin.

The next evening, going out into the courtyard, I was astonished to find my Cossacks squatting there, drinking mead around a huge dish of mutton, groats, bacon, and other delicacies prepared for them, which enlivened their spirits and humor. But what surprised me most was that Prince Eustachy, sitting with them, was eating and drinking mead from glasses as well. As soon as they saw me, they all cried out together: “Long live our Kniagini!” A bandurka was ready, and after this supper a merry dance followed. Only the night dispersed them.

On bidding me farewell with great sincerity, they concluded with these words: “May God grant health to our lords, and if they should ever need us, every Granowski Cossack is ready to give his life for them.”

Mizocz

From Antonin we returned again to Mizocz. Friendship and gratitude drew me back there. Having stayed a few days, we were about to return to Puławy, when Mrs. Karwicka herself invited me for an afternoon tea at Stubełko, a village near Mizocz, where she had a fine house, an English garden, a picturesque setting, a well-ordered village, and a managed farm. We stayed there until late. Returning by carriage, as we were nearing Mizocz, we suddenly saw it all ablaze. It was the result of such a splendid and extensive illumination that the whole countryside seemed on fire.

Having alighted, we went into the garden by various paths, each according to our fancy and even without a guide. Yet, following the most alluring light, we came to a dark rock where a path seemed to have been hewn. Passing through it, we arrived at a little hut, wondrously woven from bark and moss. Inside sat a Hermit. He received us most kindly. Then, as though inspired, he began to foretell my future, supporting his prophecies by recounting the past. Both alike were expressed in the most flattering, friendly, and gracious manner, concerning me and those dearest to me.

The same Hermit, taking me by the hand, led me along a delightful path full of flowers, down to a brook. There I beheld a vision I can never forget.

On a little hill among the trees was gathered a company of beautiful women in white garments, at their head Lady Mizocz herself. They encircled the place, holding floral garlands and wreaths of greenery and flowers. In their midst lay that very Stone on which, during my first stay, I had written: “May love and friendship weave the ribbon of your life, and may time add flowers to it.” That same stone, I say, lay in the center of the shining circle. An old man, who represented Time, seemed about to destroy and obliterate it with his scythe. But, wondrous to behold, the children of the Karwickis, with all the charms and innocence of their tender years, in white tunics, defended the Stone, wresting it from Time, pushing him away with their little hands, shielding that token of my gratitude toward their parents.

Anyone may judge how I looked upon this. Bathed in tears, I could not express my feelings; both my heart and mind were entirely absorbed. I do not know whether I was able at that moment to murmur what I felt within, but let even this description serve as a witness of my gratitude, perhaps of my emotion, and let it stand as a remembrance in the future of that day, which I never can forget.

Sielec

From there we did not stop anywhere until Sielec, at the Czacki residence. In Poland every house is surely hospitable, and in Sielec I experienced it. The palace is still only a project. The outbuildings are immense, but the disorder even greater. The rooms cold, dirty. There we found freshly painted doors and windows prepared for us, and a stove newly plastered, so that everything smelled so badly that when we woke in the morning we were sick. But friendly hospitality, open hearts, the wish to show joy and friendship—this covered everything.

Many poor paintings hung on the walls of the state rooms. The lady herself had canvases stretched on frames standing on easels, awaiting only the brush and paints lying beside them. The Czackis had spent long in Italy. She herself wished to learn painting, and he, loving his wife, trusted that this desire would bear good fruit. Hence resulted an extraordinary number of ugly pictures.

The morning after my arrival, after breakfast, we were shown everything. We began with the site where the palace was to stand. At that time only a few dead rats lay upon it, and pigs were rooting in the soil. The location very pleasant, it might have been a beautiful garden. The house on a sufficiently elevated hill, at the foot a large, clear pond of rare beauty. In the middle of the pond such a large island that a farmyard was situated there amid great trees. The freshest greenery, numerous cattle—this view was richly adorned. On the other side, Lady Czacka had laid out a garden, but began by cutting down ancient, centuries-old trees. In their place shrubs she had planted with her own hand, but such trifles could never restore the solemn, true beauty of the oaks, maples, and other ancient inhabitants of the place, whose shade had surely sheltered several generations.

Returning home after the pleasant walk, I found the strangest, least expected, indeed scarcely credible news.

Entering the hall, I noticed a steward from Puławy, Jędrzej Jendruchowicz. Delighted to see someone from Puławy, before opening the packet of letters I entered into conversation with him, asking a thousand details, when my servant begged me to read the letters quickly, since he had come day and night in haste to inform me that Emperor Alexander was expected in Puławy within a few days. I laughed at this, as at a tale, thinking someone had persuaded him in order to hasten another errand. But when I unsealed the packet, I found a dozen letters all announcing the same, urging my return. My son Konstanty, my son-in-law Zamoyski, my daughter, other friends, all wrote with strong entreaty that I should go back to Puławy at once.

I cannot describe the emotion this news aroused in me. Amazed to the utmost, I at first thought it a dream, a delusion, or deception. But reading the letters again, I was convinced of the truth and that I must depart at once.

At that moment Chamberlain Czacki entered, describing the entertainments prepared for me that day: an Italian opera, a Polish comedy, a boat ride on the pond, afternoon tea on the island, a ball in the evening, and an illumination at night.

Frightened by such a multitude of amusements, truly overwhelmed by the heartfelt kindness which prepared them for me, I forgot about the number of entertainments, the shortness of time, even at that moment about Alexander’s coming. Only the gratitude stirred by their affection, their feeling, their friendship, I tried to express.

I confess that still unable to believe in Alexander’s arrival, I feared to declare this reason for my sudden departure from Sielec. It seemed to me it would provoke only laughter and mockery. But weighing the matter, I felt that in any case it was better to leave, that indeed haste was a necessity in such circumstances, and since I had been warned by so many people, the news must be certain. I realized that no circumstance could have detained me from the Sielec festivities except the one which so unexpectedly had arisen.

I broached the matter, presented the letters, and asked to be released, expressing my deepest regret that I could not witness so many beautiful things. All were struck dumb! Various conclusions were drawn, but I, having procured horses, traveled day and night back to Puławy, in an open carriage with Zosia and a servant. The rain poured, the cold and wind pierced us.

Nevertheless, we arrived on the third day after receiving the letter, weary indeed, but in good health. The nearer I approached Puławy, the more stir and commotion there was occasioned by the Emperor’s coming. Near Konkowola I found a Russian camp of 30,000 men. The fields covered with artillery and tents. Half a mile from Puławy I met Mr. Zamoyski, who, stopping me, put me into new astonishment by saying that Wintzingerd and other generals advised me not to go to Puławy, that the Emperor would only pass through, not stop, wished to remain hidden, and did not desire to be received. For a moment this perplexed me, but soon reason itself directed me otherwise. I judged it impossible that, once being so near, I should turn back, and I ordered the carriage to the Palace.