In 1857, the first railroad tracks reached Wieliczka, but not the town itself— only a large warehouse that was under Christian’s supervision in neighboring Turowka. Clearly, the purpose of bringing the railroad in was not the traveling needs of the town’s citizens but the shipment of “white gold” stockpiled in large warehouses. Three years later, a short stretch of this so-called “saline railway” was extended further, to the entrances of the mine shafts, finally sealing this transportation link. It was definite progress, although the last part of that railroad was very different from what might be expected today; loaded heavily, train cars were pulled on the tracks by horses to their destination in Turowka. From there, they were transported by coal-fueled steam locomotives; modern times had come to Wieliczka! We can be sure that Christian Lösch knew he was part of history in the making, as he supervised the first transports moving in this radically different fashion.10
The administrative building of the salt mines in Turowka. After being erected in 1811, it housed Christian Lösch’s office until 1866. (Postcard from 1912.)
By that time, Christian Lösch had every reason to feel satisfied with his career; his position in life was a far cry from that of the inexperienced entry clerk who had started on this journey. He was certainly able to provide a comfortable living for his large family. His annual salary of 785 florins was, not surprisingly, lower than that of the head of the salt mines, but the difference was not overwhelming. The Lösch family could easily afford to live in a nice home in the center of town; in those days, the rent of a family house with a small garden (to grow vegetables on the preferred sunny side) would have cost Christian only 150 florins a year. A comfortable amount would have been left for food—cheaper in Wieliczka than in the neighboring city of Cracow—and clothing and education for the children.11
With the arrival of 1866, Christian finally retired from the post in “Salzverschleis- und Transports- Amt Turowka bei Wieliczka.” When the time to leave the mines came, he could have wistfully glanced at the roster of employees; without any trouble, he would have spotted men with familiar names. But they were already the next generation of relatives of his friends, who were long retired. After a remarkable 57 years on the job, Christian Lösch was truly the last of the old guard who had started at the bottom of the ladder during the uncertain times of the Napoleonic Wars. Undoubtedly, this hardworking man was ready for a well-deserved rest.12
The Free City of Cracow and Its Territory was established in 1815 and annexed to Austria in 1846. Wieliczka, marked on the map, was situated just outside the borders of this semi-autonomous city-state. (Map from 1827.)
Given the life he was to lead, we can surmise that Andreas Lösch, the oldest of Christian’s children, received more formal education than had his father. Certainly, the son did not learn his future craft on the job at the age of 14 as his father had. Raising children in Wieliczka had some advantages; the town had well-established schools that served the families of the mines’ employees. For the new generation of Lösches, times were changing in many other ways as well. Soon, it became clear that Andreas would choose to not seek a career in the mines. What persuaded him against following in the footsteps of the well-connected Christian Lösch and both his grandparents is a puzzle. Others would certainly have envied such an opportunity and the prospect of a stable career ahead.
In any case, Christian’s stepmother, Marianna Lösch, and her family could have had something to do with this important decision. One of Marianna’s young relatives, Adam Kwiatkowski, a possible childhood companion of Andreas’s, had recently chosen a career in the civil service of the Kingdom of Galicia and Lodomeria. Shortly thereafter, Andreas Lösch, already in his early twenties, would follow the same path. Was it just a coincidence, or part of the family plan that this young man was first hired for an entry-clerk position (beedete kanzelipracticanten) in district offices in the city of Tarnow, joining the relative of his stepmother there? Soon, there would be even more signs that the two young men were indeed close; Adam would later be the witness at Andreas’s wedding.13
Like his father, Andreas would steadily advance in his career, but with a very important difference. Unlike Christian Lösch, who had remained in the town of Wieliczka through his entire adult life, the son would pursue opportunities in several places in Galicia. After a few years in Tarnow, the time for his first promotion came, and a new position took him to the nearby town of Jaslo. Although this time he relocated only 35 miles away, moving from one administrative post to another would become a distinct pattern in Andreas’s early life.14
In February of 1846, events in the region intruded on what might otherwise have been a minor step in Andreas’s career. Initially, news of an ill-prepared uprising of Polish nobility against Austrian rule was just a worrisome sign of transient instability. The center of lofty speeches and antigovernment agitation was Cracow, which was officially known as “The Free, Independent, and Strictly Neutral City of Cracow and Its Territory.” Since Napoleon’s defeat, it had enjoyed this unusual status, although it was carefully watched by the three powers (Austria, Russia, and Prussia). As often happens, however, unrest in the city set the entire region on a volatile course.
In nearby Wieliczka, where Christian Lösch had recently remarried, the gentry fired from windows at entering Austrian troops. In no time, house-to-house searches began, and any rebel found was shot on the spot. With small children at home, Christian must have found this time unsettling.15 The antigovernment insurgency was quickly put down by Austrian light cavalry advancing on Cracow; but in other places, the situation remained tense for longer. Some of the most ferocious battles took place not far from Andreas Lösch’s new home in Jaslo. Though the town remained safe due to its large military garrison, it quickly swelled with rumors and with those who were stranded.
Soon the peasants of Galicia rose up, but in a strange paradox, the villagers directed their wrath at those engaged in dreams of national independence. Not unsurprisingly, the serfs had no loyalty to their masters; they must have had in mind the nobles’ demands for free labor and their belief in almost absolute control over those living on their estates. Early reports alleged that a district official (kreishauptmann) from Tarnow, Joseph Breinl R. von Wallerstern, had encouraged peasants from surrounding villages to attack the insurgents (mainly the local gentry) and ransack their property to prevent the spread of the antigovernment uprising. Coincidentally, von Wallerstern had been Andreas’s superior barely a year before.16
Galician Slaughter. Rebel peasants are shown bringing the heads of murdered nobles in exchange for payments dispensed by Austrian troops. (Painting by Jan Lewicki, 1795–1871.)
In the next couple of months, the rage of the villagers led to the massacre of more than 1,000 noblemen and the destruction of about 500 manor houses by roaming bands of serfs. Horror stories were told of government payments in salt or money in exchange for the heads of rural gentry.17 The entire Lösch family witnessed this unrest, later known as the Galician Slaughter. Andreas would have seen the reports of violence in the area and may have witnessed defeated rebels brought to town for imprisonment in a former military hospital. In fact, these nobles were probably safer in prison than in the countryside, being hunted with ferocity by local peons.18
The Austrian government, which cleverly exercised the principle of divide et impera (divide and rule), sent an unmistakable message to the conservative Polish gentry: Your goals were clearly not supported by a large segment of your own populace. The feudal rights of the masters of manorial estates, already replaced by modern laws in other parts of Europe, were an anachronism. To bewildered nobles who had thought themselves to be a voice of the nation, Vienna was being viewed as a protector rather than an oppressor by Galician serfs. But when it became evident that the peasant revolt was out of control and bloodshed was continuing unabated, Austrian troops easily restored order.
Future paintings and even staged performances would often depict the brutality of the 1846 upheaval. In
its aftermath, Cracow lost its semi-independent status; it was fully absorbed by the Austrian monarchy into the province of Galicia. Only two years later, Count Franz Stadion, then governor of Galicia, finally prevailed over the objections of the landowning nobility and abolished all remaining vestiges of the feudal system.
Despite the turmoil, life in Galicia went on. Perhaps reflecting the return of calm, 26-year-old Andreas Lösch married Eleonora Barbara Wilczek on October 4, 1846. The couple had grown up only 41 miles from each other, but how they met remains a bit of mystery. We can only guess that the two families knew each other through a mutual friend or through the professional activities of the bride’s and groom’s fathers. As young people at that time, women in particular, generally had limited spheres of contact, the options for how these two met each other would have been few, mainly confined to acquaintances between their parents.19 At the wedding ceremony in the bride’s hometown, a young man who had traveled all the way from Tarnow stood next to the young couple. He was Adam Kwiatkowski, the same civil servant whom Andreas had followed into the profession a few years before. It is not surprising that he was bestowed with the honor of witnessing this marriage, as the links between the two men possibly extended back to their childhood in Wieliczka.
The bride’s family, the Wilczeks (literally “young wolf”), traced their roots back to the fourteenth century in neighboring Silesia. From there, their forebears had spread to Moravia, Bohemia, Poland, and even Hungary. Some became counts (graf) and statesmen serving the Austrian crown, while others became successful in less prominent roles.20
Land purchase document by the “famous Franciscus Wilczek, townsman of Andrychow.” The cover page indicates the official nature of the document; the second page describes the boundaries of the property and its price (in old gold coins); and the third page (not shown) provides signatures of local officials, dated 1793 and 1795, certifying to the legality of the transaction.
Eleonora’s paternal grandfather, who was from Moravia, had settled in Andrychow at the end of the eighteenth century. Franciscus Wilczek Sr. did not have fancy titles, but he was a wealthy man who came to own 17 houses in town. How he made his fortune is not known, but a clue could come from the fact that Andrychow in the time of Franciscus Sr. was a well-known weaving center, producing, amongst other textiles, decorative tablecloths sought in many countries of the region. He was a trusted member of the community, referred to with respect by his contemporaries in documents that have survived. In time, Franciscus Sr. became mayor of Andrychow and a local philanthropist. The Foundation of Franciscus Wilczek Sr. would operate off and on for years after his passing.21
Franz (Franciscus) Wilczek Sr., the mayor of Andrychow, signed this official contract between two citizens concerning the purchase of land in 1809. “Sigillium Civitatis Andrychoviensis” on the seal means “Seal of the Town of Andrychow.”
Eleonora Wilczek most likely had few memories of her accomplished grandfather, who died when she was a young girl. But growing up, she would have observed many other Wilczek men who had an early preference toward professional careers. Her father, at first a local magistrate assessor, later became a merchant. But his career did not stop there; he eventually returned to public life and was elected mayor of his hometown, the second mayor in the Wilczek family. Eleonora’s uncle, Franciscus Jr., also led a fairly visible life as a teacher in the local school and as a notary. Other members of the family sought careers farther away from home. Eleonora’s younger cousin, Romualdus Wilczek, only 16 years old at the time of the wedding, would travel to schools in Austrian Silesia and then to Vienna to study medicine. He became a military surgeon. It is safe to assume that being surrounded by a family of professional men prepared Eleonora quite well for her life with Andreas.22
The marriage of Andreas and Eleonora also spoke volumes about the fact that the Lösches had no intention of returning to Austria proper; without any doubt, Galicia had become the family’s intergenerational home. There were, however, clear signs that Andreas was loosening his ties with the town of the salt mines. Whether it was his search for professional opportunities away from Wieliczka or finding a wife outside the mining community, Andreas’s actions exuded the confidence that he could manage his life in a very different way than had his father.
The new family started to grow with a baby girl, Bronislawa, born in 1848. The Lösches were surrounded by a group of friends who would be in their lives over the next 40 years. First Joseph, then Franz and Hieronymus Winkler worked with Andreas. The Lösches also crossed paths with the Jahls and the Telesnickis, who would become part of an extended family.23
During these formative years, Andreas made a clear decision about his future career. In contrast to many other young kreiskanzlisten (district clerks) who often disappeared from the rosters after a few years of service, Andreas was slowly moving up in the department. Occasional assignments in municipalities outside Jaslo must have been meant to prepare him for more senior positions. In a pattern that would repeat itself in the next generation, there were periods of absence from home that must have been viewed by the Lösches as a necessary compromise for those who aimed higher in life. By the standards of the day, Eleonora, too, was surprisingly mobile. She spent extended periods of time in her hometown, where their second daughter, Wilhelmina, was born in 1852.24
Biecz. The bell tower and the adjacent City Hall are where Andreas Lösch worked from 1855 to 1856. The town was the birthplace of his youngest daughter, Stephania Lösch. (Photograph from 1900.)
By late 1855, Andreas had been transferred to the neighboring town of Biecz. As if being tested in his new role as the county commissioner, he was to oversee civil affairs in more than 30 villages in the surrounding area.25 Although the town’s glory had dimmed over years of decline, Biecz was still considered the pearl of the Carpathians. It sat on a picturesque mountain pass on the road toward the Hungarian border (today’s Slovakia), which was just 22 miles away. The remains of medieval buildings along steep streets, and an old City Hall with a slim bell tower dating back to the sixteenth century, became Andreas’s neighborhood and workplace. This time, Eleonora accompanied him, and the year’s end brought another important event in the family’s life. On December 1, 1855, Stephania Maria Lösch, who was to become my great-grandmother and a quiet participant in our story, was born in Biecz.
Within a year or two, another opportunity for Andreas came along when an administrative position opened in the town of Liszki. This was clearly a bigger change for the Lösches, on several levels. Looking at a map of Galicia, we can see that the family would now move a greater distance compared to the more or less local assignments that had carried Andreas to different towns so far. But there were some bright spots that compensated Andreas and Eleonora for the inconvenience of moving their belongings and three young girls, and finding a home in yet another community. They were moving from a small, rural town to the almost-suburbs of the culturally and historically rich city of Cracow. That town, with its famous royal castle, its old university, and its literary world, was perceived as somewhat snobbish compared with Lvov, the capital of Galicia. But being raised in its proximity was a definite plus for their three daughters, and must have brought back to Andreas many childhood memories of growing up not far from there. Was it coincidence or, more likely, choice that their new address in Liszki placed the family quite close to (the by now retired) Christian Lösch and Ignatius Wilczek? For Eleonora, visiting relatives in Andrychow was an opportunity to share family news. We can safely assume that stories about Eleonora’s younger cousin Romualdus Wilczek, a military physician, were not uncommon subjects of conversation. There might have been even brief encounters between now grown-up cousins; a few years back, when a cholera epidemic broke out in the region, Romualdus was deployed to Andrychow to deal with this medical emergency. The records of Dr. Wilczek’s other visits to his hometown also survived. But those were only temporary stays; Romualdus was busy serving with different infantry units and in variou
s military hospitals in towns of today’s Austria, northern Italy, Germany, Romania, and Hungary.26
The lives of Eleonora and Andreas did not remain idle either. Within a few years, Andreas would be joined in the office by one of the Winkler brothers, with whom the Lösches had become good friends more than a decade before. But the professional journey of Andreas was far from over; after 10 years in Liszki, a new opportunity would open. In 1867, he became a commissioner and a member of the treasury commission in Chrzanow, a large district city further west of Cracow. The town had become strategically important with the opening of a new railway linking Cracow with Austrian Silesia to the west, and Vienna to the south.
Nowy Sacz. District office where Andreas Lösch worked from 1875 to 1888. (Postcard from the end of the nineteenth century.)
Despite so many changes, life was not yet to be settled for the Lösch family. By 1875, they had moved once again, this time to the town of Nowy Sacz. Andreas and Eleonora now found themselves in a somewhat familiar place, not far from where they had started their lifelong journey together. Friends from the Winkler and Telesnicki families lived there as well, and the Lösches would maintain close relationships with them and their children for years to come. For the next 12 years, Andreas served as a commissioner in this large district. This was likely his highest professional assignment; the position required oversight of more than 200 villages and three regional courts.27 For Andreas and Eleonora, there would be no more relocation from one town to another; Nowy Sacz was to be their home for the rest of their lives. This was also the place where the lives of the Lösch and Regiec families would intertwine, making our narrative possible.
Galician Trails: The Forgotten Story of One Family Page 4
