Galician Trails: The Forgotten Story of One Family
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Antonius Sobolewski (1875–after 1954) with his bride, Catharina, in an undated picture.
News of what was perceived as injustice to those who, like “patriotic” Antonius Sobolewski, were simply asserting their rights, spread quickly. Alongside military developments in Asia and large strikes erupting in the oil-rich region of Galicia that summer, the “case of Mr. Sobolewski” was brought into the spotlight by several newspapers from Stanislawow and Lvov. In the excitement of the moment, nobody seems to have remembered that the opposite “offenses” had happened many times before. The feelings of Ruthenians or Jews, who so often were forced to use Polish when dealing with the national Galician administration, were not even mentioned in passionate commentaries about “Mr. Sobolewski.” But there was no time or inclination then to exercise more balanced judgment. A respected lawyer, Salomon Leser from Lvov, was promptly hired by the family, and the verdict was appealed to a higher court in Stanislawow just before the jail term was to be served. Initially, the outcome was only partially successful. The higher court sensed a potentially explosive situation that might reverberate beyond Bohorodczany and touch the sensitivities of more than one family. The contempt-of-court verdict was retained, but the jail term was replaced with a fine. Antonius was ordered to pay 105 kronen (approximately U.S. $1,100 in today’s money).
For most, this would have been the end of the story; however, the Sobolewski clan was of stubborn stock. Antonius’s lawyer appealed to the prosecutor’s office in Vienna, arguing the injustice of the lower court’s decision. In its Delphic wisdom, deciding to remain above the fray, the judiciary of the central government only asked the lower courts to review the case. In the end, a judicial inquiry established that while speaking in anger, Antonius had not mentioned the judge’s name or that of any other officer of the court, and the case was thrown out. Thus, a potentially explosive affair (albeit one that some today might view as a tempest in a teacup) reached its final resolution.31
Theophilus Sobolewski (1890–after 1954). Theophilus emigrated to Argentina before World War I.
Theophilus Sobolewski, the youngest of the Sobolewski brothers, was not involved in any explosive events as far as we can tell. Like his older brothers, however, he was set on breaking with family tradition by seeking opportunities in the outside world. At the age of 22, Theophilus took his youthful desire to a new level by leaving Galicia. Like thousands of other potential emigrants from his homeland, he had to make a crucial decision about where to test his luck. In 1908, emigration to the New World was the most chosen path; 338,000 people arrived in the United States from the Austro-Hungarian Empire in that year alone. Migrants from Galicia included Poles, mainly from the countryside, and impoverished Jews from many towns in the eastern region.32 Every few years, there would be additional waves of Jews who were only passing through Galicia on their way to the United States, escaping pogroms in tsarist Russia. Other groups included large numbers of Ruthenians, many from Bohorodczany, who often headed for Canada. Argentina was another destination for those seeking a better future. That country had a booming agricultural sector and largely unpopulated but fertile plains, called pampas, that needed farmers. In fact, at the turn of the century, some wondered whether Argentina, rather than the United States, would become the new center of the world.
To move thousands of people across the ocean, many of them illiterate and unfamiliar with anything beyond their own villages, required well-run operations. Would-be emigrants were recruited by special agencies that transported them from Galicia by train to the key European ports of embarkation. In general, there were two routes advertised: the northern one was more popular, taking brave passengers to Bremen or Hamburg in Germany, where they boarded steamships bound for North America on a passage that took a week or longer. The southern route included a change of trains in Vienna and further travel to the port of Trieste, which today is situated in Italy but then belonged to Austro-Hungary. From there, travelers boarded ships that would reach Buenos Aires or New York in about two weeks, after ports of call in Naples, Barcelona, and the Canary Islands. Each ship could transport up to 800 passengers in three classes of service. But make no mistake: most emigrants, of necessity, traveled on the cheapest ticket, third class.
Steamship routes to North and South Nothing is known about why he chose Bue-America. The passage on “Magnificent Fast Steamship Marta [sic] Washington” nos Aires as his destination; was it just one to Buenos Aires lasted “only 16 days.” (Kurjer Lwowski January 1, 1905; and Kurjer Stanislawowski December 7 and 24, 1911.)
The latter route was the one that Theophilus Sobolewski chose, in order to seek adventure and opportunities in Argentina. Nothing is known about why he chose Buenos Aires as his destination; was it just one of many possibilities, or did some acquaintance await him there? We can only wonder whether, boarding the train in Stanislawow at the outset of the trip, Theophilus suspected that this would be the last time he would see the members of the Sobolewski family who stood on the platform bidding him good-bye.33
In the fall of 1904, Franciscus Sobolewski, my grandfather, resurfaces in our story as a teacher in the boys’ elementary school in Bohorodczany. He and his cousin Stanislaus, who were two of the many Sobolewskis living in town, most likely had no difficulty immersing themselves in their new responsibilities; this was still familiar territory. The next year, one of the Sobolewskis spoke at a regional school conference held in Bohorodczany. There, routine appeals for better teaching materials and financial support were mixed with a more controversial proposal to remove German from the school curriculum. From the perspective of today—when early exposure to several languages is often considered a strength—it is strange to hear arguments about how difficult it was for schoolchildren to learn the three officially recognized languages. Rather than a genuine concern about too much homework, this was more likely a thinly veiled reflection of the nationalism that was on the rise in Galicia.34
Within a few years, Franciscus’s name would temporarily disappear from the roster of local teachers. Like many young men his age, he was eligible for compulsory military service, although deferrals for teachers were common. Franciscus, however, opted for a voluntary service in the imperial army that lasted only one year.35 This option was generally reserved for graduates of schools of higher education, who had to pass a proficiency test clumsily called the “intelligence examination.”36 For young men from Bohorodczany, the most likely place for military service was Stanislawow, where the 58th Infantry Regiment was quartered. But that would not be Franciscus’s destination; like his brothers, he was looking for new experiences. Perhaps seeking adventure, he enlisted in the 7th Infantry Regiment, stationed in Graz, in Austria proper. Franciscus served as a cadet, and after his training was completed, he was discharged back into civilian life as a noncommissioned officer in the reserves.37
After spending this short time away, Franciscus resumed his teaching career at the end of 1907. The names of his contemporaries on the school staff are noteworthy as they reflect, once again, the diverse community of Bohorodczany. We see there the Polish name of Julian Fialkowski (the school principal) along with the Ruthenian-sounding name of another teacher, Mikolaj Denysiuk, and a Jewish teacher, Hersh Krammer. Among his colleagues, Franciscus would have no problem quickly noticing a new teacher, a young woman with red hair from neighboring Stanislawow. But this story is yet to come.
The Jubilee Cross. On the occasion of the 60th anniversary of Emperor Franz Joseph’s reign, Franciscus Sobolewski and Joseph Regiec were the recipients of this decoration in 1908.
This was still a period of peace, and soon, with thousands of others, Franciscus celebrated the emperor’s 60th anniversary at the helm of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. By an official decree of 1908, all active and former military men registered on the day of the emperor’s birthday, December 2, were to receive the Jubilee Cross. This would become Franciscus’s first decoration, although not for valor on the battlefield. His life was becoming stable and, to so
me extent, predictable. By 1913, after successfully passing the required examinations, he became a permanent teacher in the Bohorodczany school.38 Everything suggested that this would be his career for life, but events that loomed ahead would permanently alter his trajectory.
BOHORODCZANY, HER NEW HOME, was not too far from the old one. Still, Helena Regiec must have felt some anxiety; the young woman was about to make her first step into adulthood. However, by virtue of her character and the modern upbringing she had received, there was no place for too much fuss. Her parents, Joseph and Stephania Regiec, had wisely encouraged their daughters to seek professions so they could become independent in life. It is also likely that Bronislawa Lösch, her aunt and an accomplished teacher, had had some influence on Helena’s chosen career and offered a few words of advice from her own experience.
The beginning of the twentieth century was a time when most young women in Galicia still left their parents’ homes only after they were married. Few held outside jobs or lived alone by choice; roles for them beyond those of supportive spouses and mothers were still far from accepted. However, times were beginning to change—albeit with some hesitancy. Only a few years before, women in the empire had been granted permission to be doctors or pharmacists (upon fulfilling the same educational requirements as men), although not too many were yet choosing those paths.1 Teaching was a more accessible profession that allowed women to accomplish a measure of independence, at least prior to marriage.
As in other parts of the Western world, women’s suffrage was a matter of great debate in Galicia. Interestingly, women themselves may have been somewhat ambivalent about their right to vote; one advocated in a local newspaper that the process should be advanced step by step over a period of some years, with educated women (e.g., teachers) or independent women (e.g., widows) allowed to vote first. One female correspondent’s cautious advice was that married women should always follow their husbands’ political instincts, in order to avert domestic quarrels. Of course, these opinions may have simply been conciliatory gestures toward those with more conservative views, calculated to gain in the long run by not rocking the boat too strongly.2
Such controversies were probably not at the front of Helena’s mind after she passed her examinations in September of 1906. Her first assignment as a teacher-in-training came quickly, in the following month. Why my grandmother was given her initial appointment in Bohorodczany rather than Stanislawow will remain unclear; but we can guess that this would not have been her first choice. Helena certainly knew of the town because it was so close to Stanislawow. And, as in later generations, newly minted teachers were probably pressured to move to rural areas, where schools were few and often inadequately staffed. Perhaps there were other, more practical reasons she moved there; possibly her parents had some acquaintances in the town who could help Helena get established in her new home.
The trip from Stanislawow to Bohorodczany was not arduous, but it certainly was quite different than it would be today. There was no train or bus connecting these towns, and the only automobile service, which had opened with much fanfare that same month, was solely dedicated to mail delivery.3 Certainly one could bicycle, as the road was considered a good one. But it would have been unlikely for a young woman in an ankle-length dress, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and with some baggage, to bike so far from the city alone. Instead Helena, her sister, and their parents must have taken a carriage, so they could look over the town and living quarters for the young teacher-to-be. Undoubtedly, Joseph Regiec reminisced along the way about his own experiences some 27 years before, when as a new teacher he had arrived at his small, single-classroom school and found no lodging place waiting. There must have been a few bits of advice from father to daughter, who was of course anxious not to make any mistakes in her first job.
Although Bohorodczany was nearby, the trip from Stanislawow would not be cheap. The cost of a carriage with coachman and two horses could be up to 10 kronen (about U.S. $105 today). After one or two trunks were loaded into the carriage, they would have left behind the elegant city center and traveled along Kazimierzowska Street, watching large buildings give way to simple, single-story houses. They would have passed the city hospital, and likely caught glimpses of cavalrymen from the Austro-Hungarian regiment that was stationed nearby. A few parks were briefly seen on their left, and soon they were outside the city, heading southwest.
The right side of the valley was hilly, with a mountain range called the Black Forest rising up on the horizon. A bit closer to the road, they could see the river (Bystrzyca Solotwinska) curving this way and that, its rapid current being joined by a number of smaller streams. In a few places, the river was split by boulders and even some small islands. On the left side of the road, the terrain was flatter, with pastures and a few meadows. After two and a half miles, the carriage would have passed through the small village of Krechowce, with the Greek Catholic church visible from the road. Then, just to the right, by the river, there was another village, with the long name of Drohomirczany.
Roughly halfway between Stanislawow and Bohorodczany, Helena and her family would have reached a small town, Łysiec. In passing, they would have seen City Hall, and caught glimpses of an old Roman Catholic church established by the founder of Stanislawow in 1669. The crosses of the Greek Catholic, Armenian, and Orthodox churches were also visible.
Stanislawow-Bohorodczany area. Leaving Stanislawow, a traveler passed through Krechowce, Drohomirczany, and Łysiec before arriving in Bohorodczany. The mountain range is visible to the west of the valley. (Section of a map from 1932.)
The seal of Bohorodczany from 1820.
On the way to Bohorodczany, they were almost certainly passed by horse-drawn wagons (frequently driven by Jewish coachmen) or by a group of Hutsuls bringing their wares to local markets. On their left was a stream called Stebnik, with some adjoining small cattle farms.
About half an hour after leaving Łysiec behind, the family’s coach would have approached their destination; the towers of the Dominican church were clearly visible to travelers from some distance away. The school where Helena was headed was on the left, almost opposite the courthouse. After crossing a small stream that ran under the road, the family’s carriage could have turned sharply right; that would have had them passing several of the synagogues of Bohorodczany. Exploring a bit further in that direction, the Regiecs could have seen a wooden bridge across the River Bystrzyca, leading to the village of Old Bohorodczany, which was clearly visible on the other side. Turning around, the family would have noticed a small manor house, which belonged to the Stadion family, just outside town. Back on the main road, they would find themselves next to the market square, with its many shops and stalls. Looking further south, they would see the wooden roof of the Greek Catholic church and a small post office on the other side of the road.
After a ride lasting a bit more than an hour, the family would have stretched their legs and strolled around, inspecting the town and perhaps looking for an appropriate place for Helena to stay. Whether it was the family’s choice or an arrangement already made by the school, the new teacher’s lodging would consist of a simple room in a house near the center of town, allowing Helena to easily walk back and forth from work.4 Surely, there were a few final words of advice from her parents. Perhaps to cheer Helena up, her family reminded her that it wouldn’t be long before she would visit home to tell them all about her new life. It was already fall and the days were getting shorter, so the three Regiecs would not have stayed too late. Perhaps after a bite to eat, they said their good-byes, climbed into the carriage, and went back to Stanislawow.
Bohorodczany. The scene from the downtown. (Postcard from the early twentieth century.)
On November 1, 1906, Helena started her new job, beginning a professional career that would take her through many twists and turns until retirement 43 years later. In her understated way, she would always remain proud of being a professional woman. Thus, let’s pause for a moment to see how the
schools of Bohorodczany developed over time, and what welcomed this aspiring teacher there.
The town had had a variety of schools since the end of the eighteenth century. From that time onward, there were separate institutions for Jews and Ruthenians, as well as state-sponsored ones that were theoretically open to everyone. A German-Jewish school opened in Bohorodczany shortly after the Austrian government took over Galicia in 1772; it was part of a wider network administered by the secular Jewish educator Naftali Herz Homberg. These schools provided instruction in German but also offered limited classes in Hebrew. Where exactly they were located in Bohorodczany, and how many students attended, is not known, except that Mr. S. Bland was one of the first Jewish teachers there. As in other places in Galicia, however, local rabbis despised the idea of secular education functioning outside the religious community, and the system ultimately failed. Herz Homberg’s schools, as they were called, were shut down, and the last teacher left town in 1806. But in later years, a number of smaller schools would open, this time run by the local Jewish community with instruction given in Hebrew, to complement state education for Jewish children.5
Bohorodczany’s first public school had been established by a decree of the governor of Galicia in 1789. At the beginning, it was a single classroom where local kids were taught basic reading and writing. Sometime after 1837, the school gained an early benefactor, Count Rudolph Stadion. We can gain a glimpse into its life by examining records from the year 1865. At that time, there was a single teacher, Mr. Przeslakiewicz, who had been teaching for the previous 37 years and would remain in this position for another 10 years. The poor man, who was already 67 years old, oversaw 95 boys and 33 girls in a single classroom. These kids were considered extremely lucky; at the time, approximately three-quarters of all children of school age living in Bohorodczany never enrolled at even a simple classroom. Besides his annual salary of only 42.5 Austrian kronen (about U.S. $12,600 in today’s currency), Mr. Przeslakiewicz was also compensated with a few bushels of wheat, barley, and rye, not to mention some firewood and hay, all coming from the Stadion estate. We can guess that these items came in quite handy, in light of his rather small income.6