The Czartoryski Archive

Based on what I remember and on letters written by my parents since their wedding on June 23, 1910, and even during their engagement, and then during World War I and World War II, the times of Polish independence until 1939 and later, I would like to briefly — perhaps not even chronologically — describe my family, i.e. the Stadnickis, and our homes in Nawojowa and Frain a/d Thaya in the CSR.

Parents and Siblings

Adam Stadnicki, born April 10, 1882 in Lvív, died March 10, 1982
Stefania née Woroniecka, born September 14, 1886 in Bielice, died January 19, 1963

Their parents: Edward Stadnicki and Helena née Sapieha (“Bunia”); Paweł Woroniecki and Maria née Mańkowska.

Siblings:

• Maria (Maryś) — born 1912 in Nawojowa, died 2003 — husband Stefan Świeżawski
• Jadwiga — born 1913 in Nawojowa — husband Adam Czartoryski
• Helena (Hela) — born 1914 in Frain, died 1977 — husband Antoni Mańkowski
• Anna (Danusia) — born 1916 in Frain, died 2001 — husband Stanisław Gostkowski
• Stefania (Stefcia) — born 1917 in Frain, died 1979 — husband Włodzimierz Jasieński
• Józef (Józio) — born 1919 in Nawojowa, died 1960 — wife Elżbieta Lubomirska
• Andrzej (Jędrek) — born 1920 in Nawojowa, died 1945 — bachelor
• Paweł — born 1925 in Nawojowa, died 1996 — wife Teresa Moszumańska

Dziadunio — Adam Stadnicki

Nawojowa was inherited by Dziadunio from his father Edward, who died in 1885 — so Dziadunio was raised mainly in Krasiczyn, in the castle of his grandparents Adam and Jadwiga Sapieha née Sanguszko. He attended school in Lvív and then finished secondary school at the Jesuit school in Hyórów. He studied forestry in Munich, became an exceptionally good professional and wise forester, loved the forests and managed them perfectly. He took over the estate early and settled in Nawojowa, where part of the palace was still occupied by his grandmother “Grandma Ludka,” Ludgarda Stadnicka née Mniszków, who died in 1912. After her death, Dziadunio received Frain a/d Thaya — in Czech, Vranov na Dyji — a magnificent castle and estate located on the border with Austria, about 100 km from Vienna.

The Palace at Nawojowa

The palace in Nawojowa consisted of an old 16th-century part connected to a newer 19th-century tower. The newer part was rebuilt by Dziadunio for the first time when he got married, then in 1924 he added “our” room (mine and Maryś’s), as well as a winter garden (a door was knocked through from the dining room, and underneath he made his office with a secret passage to the cellar below). On the first floor of the old part, next to the library, were Bunia’s rooms — a small living room, a bedroom, a dressing room, and a maid’s room. From there, one could access the dining room through a chapel built in the tower. Further on were three salons, a winter garden, a beautiful hall finished with wood paneling with wide wooden stairs, and behind it a “children’s” corridor with doors to the parents’ bedroom and four children’s rooms.

Education at Home

Since we all studied at home, our lives were very strictly organized, just like at school. We got up at 7 a.m. and after breakfast, at 8 a.m. sharp, lessons began in three classes: me with Sister Maryś, Sister Hela separately, and Danusia and Stefcia together. The boys, Józio and Jędrek, were together, and Paweł, the youngest, was alone. Lessons lasted 45 minutes with 5-minute breaks, then a longer break, and then dinner at 1 p.m. — announced by a gong, and one was forbidden to be late to the table. After lunch, we thanked our parents and Bunia by kissing their hands.

We had a changing staff of teachers: nurses when we were babies, then various governesses — Austrian Fräulein Else Pusch was with us for many years. From the earliest times, we had French women; from Paweł’s birth there were also English women, first a nurse, then Miss Foster, a nanny who converted to Catholicism with us, which was a great experience for the whole house.

My most loyal friend was Stasia Harasowska, later the wife of composer Tadeusz Szeligowski. She was a music teacher, first in Vilnius, then after the war in Poznań. In 1923, a dancer, Nina Dolińska (who soon died of tuberculosis), stayed with us and taught us rhythmic dances, and all five sisters performed to the music of Grieg’s Death of Åse, Schumann, krakowiaks, mazurkas, and kozaks.

Daddy loved our performances and made us perform in front of guests, which I didn’t like because I was very shy. At Christmas, every year since I was 5, we put on plays — Grandma was the director and did a great job. The first play was Little Red Riding Hood (Sister Hela was the wolf), then Hansel and Gretel, and I think the last one was Gretel in the Mountains (I was a fairy).

The Great Fire of 1929

The park was long and narrow, bordered on one side by the road from Nowy Sącz to Krynica and on the other by the road to the church. There were many beautiful trees — magnolias along the path to the church, pyramidal oaks that we climbed, and our “houses,” and a large beautiful oak tree planted in the year of Grandfather’s birth.

The kitchen was furnished in 1929 after a great fire in January of that year, when all the buildings burned down — a large house with a kitchen, bakery, and laundry rooms on the ground floor and servants’ quarters on the first floor, the coach house with beautiful museum carriages, the garage (one car was managed to be driven out by the chauffeur Salomon), the stables, and the coachman’s apartment. The screams of the horses were terrible — they did not run outside but fell into the already burning stables and died there. I couldn’t forget that sight for a long time.

My parents weren’t in Nawojowa at the time, because Grandpa, as a member of parliament, was in Warsaw and Grandma had gone to visit him. So, awakened by the farmhand’s cry of “fire,” I ran to the phone and rang for a long time before the lady at the post office woke up and was able to call the fire department, which arrived an hour later. But because it was a harsh winter (below 25 degrees), the hoses froze and were of little help. I woke up Bunia, who got dressed and went out to the fire, and as she walked along the stable, she heard the whimpering of a baby. She found a few-weeks-old baby, wrapped in blankets, lying on the ground — the coachman’s youngest child. His wife had thrown the child out of the window to save it. Bunia took it home and it was saved. Fortunately, apart from the horses, no one was hurt.

The Castle at Frain (Vranov nad Dyjí)

Our second home was a magnificent castle on a rock above the Dyja River — the height from the terrace to the river was about 94 meters — surrounded by forests to the south (the Braitau district). The castle was surrounded by walls, and among them were the gardens of the servants and administration, as well as ours, and vineyards. We drank our own rosé wine every day.

Life in Frain was more “grand” than in Nawojowa. People came there for shorter stays, so the servants tried very hard to please them. The silverware was beautiful, as was the tableware, so the table was always very carefully set, with beautiful crystal glasses. The silverware was taken by a German who occupied Frain during the last war. When Grandpa and Grandma were forced to leave Frain for good in 1950, they were only allowed to take the furnishings from two rooms.

Our honeymoon was spent in Frain too — we stayed in the corner room that I had shared with Sister Maryś as a child, painted with landscapes: a forest, an alley with a gazebo at the end, and the ceiling painted with clouds forming shapes of people. When we were told to sleep in the afternoon, we looked at these paintings and told each other fairy tales.

Childhood at Frain During World War I

I was first at Frain as a baby in 1914, when war was looming. The family settled there, and my three sisters were born there. As many families fled from Małopolska to Vienna because the Russian front was approaching, my parents invited these refugees to Frain. This is how the Czartoryski family ended up there — parents with their sons. The eldest were already in the army and the younger ones were with them. Dad was nine years old at the time.

Grandfather Stadnicki, being the only son and breadwinner of the family, made many efforts and, after much hard work, obtained an assignment to the Maltese, to whom he signed up and for four years traveled by train with the wounded. They gathered them at the front lines and transported them to hospitals in the rear. There were tragic experiences — such as when a train carrying oil crashed into their train with the wounded, everything started to burn, and many of the wounded died. Their letters show how much they loved each other and how close they were to God. Grandma ran the household, made decisions about the estate, and also went hunting to supply the kitchen with meat. We children had a wonderful life.

Frain Life: Deer, Music, and the Hungarian March

During the May coup in 1926, we spent about six months in Frain. There was a long telescope on the living room window, and often, when we started playing Liszt’s Hungarian March, a deer we already knew would come out to the feeder, visible from the window — and we would lure it out and show it to our guests. It was so “musical”!

“The whole castle was surrounded by forest, and when we lay in our beds we could hear the stags roaring in the woods. From the drawing room there was a view onto the forest through a telescope, and we would always stop to look for deer. There was one stag who always appeared when we played the Hungarian March.”

Education, Travel, and Growing Up

It was not until 1929 that Sister Maryś and I went to study in Zbylitowska Góra at the Sacred Heart school, where we passed our high school exams. Until then, we had always studied at home. In the fall of 1929 we went to the boarding school, which was a great experience, because we had never been to school before, let alone a boarding school. The first period was naturally quite difficult, but we were happy there, finding nice friends and loving some of the nuns very much.

I passed my high school exams in May 1931. In the fall of 1931, I traveled with Grandma and Sister Maryś through Frain and Vienna to Rome, where we spent 10 wonderful months living in the Holy Child boarding school at Via Buoncompagi 10 — a so-called Finishing School, where there were about 12 girls from England, America, Sweden, Italy, and three Poles.

After returning from Rome in summer 1932, I enrolled at the Higher School of Commerce (WSH) in Poznań. I had wanted very much to study medicine, but my parents were against it. I passed my master’s exam in 1935. While studying, I lived at the apartment of Mrs. Manieczka Czartoryska on Wesoła Street, where also — in two rooms in the basement — lived Adam and Piotr Czartoryski. This is how our friendship began. Sundays at the Roman family home in Konarzewo for horse riding, tennis, and trips to the lakes and forest were among the nicest periods of my life.

Daily Life and Service at Nawojowa

Grandma and Great-Grandma each had their own maid who took care of their rooms, bedding, and personal linen. One of these ladies was in charge of the “storage room” — a warehouse for bedding, towels, and other items for the entire house. The other worked in the sewing room. The living rooms and dining room were the responsibility of the male staff: a butler and a male servant who maintained the floors (constantly polished), cleaned the silver, and tidied the three salons and the winter garden.

In later years, when my brother Józio fell ill with polio and was paralyzed, he had his own servant, who during the war years was Julek Ogórek and Jasiek Kociołek. Jaśka’s brothers were the carters Władek and Staszek, who when he married settled near the Trzycierz forest as a gamekeeper. Władek’s wife was Mańka, the forester Słaby’s daughter. So they were all our own people, friends, acquaintances. Jolanka, Anton’s wife, and her several sisters, who worked in turn at the palace, were the children of a worker who ran the brickyard. Julek was the son of the sexton; he had five older brothers and a twin. They were also a very respectable and honest family. After the war, Julek became a sexton and did well — he built two new houses, in which he hosted us when we came to Nawojowa for the ceremony of consecration of a commemorative plaque in honor of the Stadnicki family. Julek’s daughter married Jaśko Kociołek’s son — that’s how friendly these families were. Julek Ogórek died recently, at the end of 1990. They were the driving force (and Jasiek still is) behind commemorating the family’s achievements and “forced” us to fund this plaque, and now Jasiek really wants to put up a monument or a second plaque somewhere to commemorate Józio’s actions in the Home Army.

Servants at Frain

In Frain, the servant I remember from the earliest times was old Leon, who was still serving and was almost a confidant of my great-grandfather Edward Stadnicki and his wife “Grandma Ludka.” I once read some funny letters from my great-grandmother to Leon complaining that “the Count is scratching himself again”; apparently he had some skin problems. Leon had the keys to all the treasures. He was still alive after our wedding and took us to the cellar deep underground, where there were very old wines. Michał Froncek was a servant for many years. He lived in the house right next to the first gate, and opposite was the house of the porter, Johan, Leon’s son-in-law. Leon’s relative was old Fani, an excellent cook. When they all grew old, Alojz, a servant for everything, and his wife Luisa, who was a maid and cook, took over, with the help of a girl when there were more people. In Frain, we were always welcomed with great honors — we were “die hohe Herrschaft” — the table was beautifully set with porcelain in the shape of ears of corn, and we drank our own wine from crystal glasses. Grandma’s beautiful silverware was taken away by the Germans, to whom Frain “belonged” during the war. He had received it from Hitler in exchange for his property, which he had to give to another party member. Alojz remained in Frain until his death, a good few years after the war, still receiving some visitors from the family. I think when Jean and Izabella were there with Grandpa, he showed them everything. That was in 1967 or 1968.

His best friend and almost “nanny” was Carl Mechel, the coachman. We always went horse riding with him. He was kind, responsible, and very good with horses.

1933: Frain and the Sobieski Celebrations in Vienna

In the fall of 1933, I went with my parents and brothers to Frain, where we went deer hunting, and in the evenings and mornings we could hear them roaring from the castle, which was wonderful “music” for us. At that time, celebrations were held in Vienna to commemorate Jan Sobieski’s victory over the Turks. Grandfather, along with other Polish gentlemen, was invited to the Burg, where they appeared in Polish costumes. It looked beautiful and was a great honor for the Poles. Grandma, the boys, and I drove to Vienna, feeling a little uncertain because we only had border passes and no passports, but no one asked about it. Grandpa stayed for the evening reception, and we returned home.

We spent very happy, cheerful, and varied holidays in Frain, going on trips to the woods, walking to Braitau (a forest area visible from the castle windows). In later years, Grandpa had a tennis court built on the so-called Gräfin Wiese, which was quite far from the castle, so it was a long trip, and we liked playing there less than in Nawojowa, where the tennis court was in the park, not so far away. Frain had a nice neighborhood where there were also young people, such as Krawska Frasso-Dentice (the old prince was Italian and his wife was Austrian).

At the beginning of the academic year, I returned to Poznań.