MEMOIRES OF the DOCTOR ALEXANDRE OKINCZYC
(Doctor of the poor in Villepreux)
DEPORTATION AND ESCAPE
Volume I
MEMOIRES OF OUR GREAT FATHER ALEXANDRE OKINCZYC
Our grandfather Doctor Alexander Okinczyc was born on 28 January 1839 in Siedlce, Lithuania. The Grand Duchy of Lithuania was annexed by Poland, five times smaller country, in 1386 by the marriage, for reason of State d' Hedwige (Jadwiga) of Anjou, fundamentally catholic queen of Poland with the Grand-Duke of Lithuania Vladislav Jagellon (Jagiello) of pagan origin. This marriage converted Lithuania into Catholicism. Alexander Okinczyc made his secondary studies in Pruzany (in the district of Grodno) then he studied a medicine at the Faculty of Moscow. He had just settled in Cherechew near Pruzany when the insurrection of April 1863 erupted in the province of Grodno against the Russian occupant. He joined insurgent, the captain Karol Sassulicz, with two hundred partisans. The insurrection having failed, our grandfather stopped in November 1863 at his parents, was taken along to Pruzany, arrested and condemned to twelve years of forced work in Siberia. After deportation and escape described by him hereafter, he settled in France where after continuation of his studies of medicine. He followed his occupation in Villepreux-les-Clayes, not far from Versailles. He died on 18 March 1886 as a victim of an epidemic of influenza contracted at the bedside of his patients. Villepreux venerated him, a street carries his first name "the street of Doctor Alexandre" and on his tomb in the cemetery of this city, one can read "slave of the duty, victim of his devotion".
PARIS, September 2, 1865 25 street of Ulm
"Lithuania, O my fatherland
You are as health
That one only can appreciate
Who lost it for ever."
More than two years already passed; two years that I remained without writing, without fixing on paper the facts of which I want to have the memory. It seems in a so short time! A few years ago, I devoted a few moments of freedom to note all the events run out from my childhood until our insurrection. These memories remained the property of my family. I did not have then, by them writing, of other reason than my personal pleasures and to close friends. Today, I am pleased to have these memories left to them. When I am gone, they will find some consolation in this reading.
These two last years are richer in events then the first part of my existence. Dear parents, now that I am here healthy and that especially I am free, I still remain painful with the thought that perhaps I will never see you again. I am trying to say to you, forgetting nothing, the smallest things that can interest you. I hope that you will read it one day.
My happiest wishes are to send these memories to you… or perhaps, who knows, to give them in person. But when that will be possible? Will I still find you on this world, my dear parents? You are old, you endured such an amount of misery and the infamous Russian government overpowers you still unceasingly with new misfortunes. O my God, why can't I any more, like formerly, to support you, to comfort you? What will become from now on with my two younger brothers? You will not be able any more to give them a good instruction. The poor boys! What kind of future is reserved for them? This thought alone can kill you my dear Parents and me... I would like to come to you with assistance!
Today, I write all that for you. You expected of me to be condemned to a more terrible fate. If I can manage here to earn my living, I will be increasingly happy, because I am not any more between the claws of the Muscovite bear: I am completely free and I only depend on me. I would prefer working here and rather gain painfully my bread than to be in the mines of Siberia and to depend on despotism. It is said that who was not in prison does not know happiness. That is true, but we can taste happiness only when we have the chance to escape and feel completely free. All that is already past... I am unaware of what will be the future... whatever it is, I will see it coming with the impression from happiness because it is freedom... I am not more in the Muscovite hands. To be free! To be free! What a joy! It is really necessary to understand how it feels to weigh on its shoulders the painful weight of slavery... I was overpowered for so long time under the Muscovite yoke that still I cannot believe that I am today free. The past appears a dream to me and then my joy is so deep and so soft since August 10 that I am in Paris on this so accessible and hospitable land for exiled!
Being still in Russia, I sent a letter to you, my dear parents, through Ludomir Pisalka, my brother-in-law. I said to you that I was escaped prisoner, but I wrote in such way that you could hardly doubt it because it did not have to be forgotten that I was still in St. Petersburg. From Siberia, I had written to you previously: you should then have recognized my writing. But I am afflicted while thinking that if my letters could comfort you, they could not, however, to reassure you completely on my subject and that today still you tremble for me and you wonder what I became. I comfort myself only with the thought that earlier or later you will receive these pages. What a joy it will be then for me! I had already projected to write these memories when in Siberia I thought of escaping. I thought of it like a reward for all my sufferings. Now wipe your tears, all made a success of me and I am saved. I wait for assurances that you accepted my fate.
Insurrection.
At the time that preceded the Insurrection, many facts came to give us hopes for the future. I was then in Moscow where I finished my medical studies. We received frequent news from the country that then gave to the Muscovites continual evidence of Polish vitality. We spoke about patriotic demonstrations that proved to the Russians that the Polish Nation lived despite everything. Even a service for five young Polish killed in Warsaw was celebrated officially. The students took part in the assembly of Horodlo; during this time the government seemed to sleep and pretended all to be unaware of anything. One can believe however that it feared fatal consequences then and that it was in the embarrassment in front of the extent of the movement.
In April 1863, the Insurrection erupted in the region of Grodno. Because the passage of Roginski in the district of Pruzany which was carried out in winter it did not have a continuation then. I however report these facts after the dislocation of the party of Roginski. One of his partisans named Samulski became then the true head of the detachment of Pruzany. He was a man of doubtful probity as it later was known and who finished sadly. A bullet left the rows of his compatriots and reached him in full face only marking it. He survived but working in the service of the Russians thanking him for his treason, sent nevertheless to Siberia. As I had received the command from Wojewodzki, I went at once to the place indicated for the gathering and the concentration of the volunteers. During this voyage, I went from house to house, throwing there a call to the Insurrection for all entreated. There I then passed in front of the house of my parents without being able to enter and my heart was tightened with the thought to be able to receive their blessing; but the time was running away and it was necessary to hasten.
Our concentration was carried out in the forest of Lesmiezowka. We were initially only one to score. Then later Samulski joined us with his partisans so that soon we were 70 and almost all without neither weapons nor ammunition. Our goal was to join Felix Wodsk, a current head of our district and who gathered the insurrectionists on another side. There during several days, we sought to join in, not being able to arrive, because it seemed they fled. After a few days of useless travelling, we withdrew ourselves to the forest of Michalin. We remained there until we could slip into the party of Gustav Staminski, made up of more than two hundred men and where we formed the Third Company under the command of the Captain Karol Sassulicz. As for me, I was named a doctor of the troops. I met there my two German cousins Stanislaw Okinczyc, Russian lieutenant of artillery, and a student Felix Okinczyc from the University of St. Petersburg, like some other friends. Stanislaw had taken the command of the Second Company.
Soon also we had weapons and ammunition and were ready to fight. We had among us many peasants armed with forged weapons. We had only one score of horses. We had a strategic plan and missed neither of money nor food. We often sang patriotic songs accompanied by a flutist whom we had in our company. All those who formed part of our district had the heart filled with hope since our meeting because they had been believed lost under the command of Samulski. He did not inspire confidence. What a solemn was the meeting and what a cordial greeting was made to us! In other words, that made me think at this time to celebrate and solemn ratification of the union of Lithuania with the Kingdom of Poland, accomplished in Lublin under Sigismond August Jagellon in 1569. On the dark horizon of the forest, one could see our detachments which one recognized with the white caps of confederated. They went to the steps, led by their leaders. The hearts beat in this moment, then the junction took place: I still see a painter trying to reflect a view. Our immense virgin forests kept an imposing and majestic charm. Fires of bivouac illuminated gigantic trees. The multitude of men armed sauntering like almost unreal phantoms in the half-light mobile and changing by the play with the flames. These groups with insurrectionists sitting throwing their patriotic songs with the echoes with the forest whose oppressed ground seemed to quiver and shout the alarm clock of freedom. The steam of the kitchens, these spaced fires, the rattling of weapons and the laughter, the jokes even and sometimes with far the plaintive sound from a flute: all that composed a unit so full with charm and serene harmony which there will remain forever engraved in my memory. These impressions of then are all the more deep in me that they were born from the pressing breath of hope that animated them alas... all things that had sunk so quickly in the defeat and the ruin.
I forgot to report a fact of the first days of our forwarding. Under the command of Samulski, we passed in the surroundings of the town of Bereza. We had to cross a village called Ogrodnik during the night. The moon lit the countryside. After having taken some food from an inn located at outskirts of the village, we followed again the main road. In the horizon, we saw far away the martyrdom raised on a small hill and two small trees. The hillock was covered with stones as we saw it under moon light by approaching. We experienced all this sad landscape in the middle of the quiet night. All around the Martyrdom extended as far as the eye can see from the brownish fields and with far small castle. This sight attracted us and animated all of a common feeling, we approached the cross, this encouraged our redemption, and we knelt and, from our hearts escaped a burning prayer towards the Creator. At this moment, the moon was reflected in many high eyes towards the Sky. Silence was so deep; we were in immobility so complete that one had been able us to believe changed into statues. There was however in us of this moment so much of life, so much of feelings! It is true that our ecstasy was of short duration, but each one of us was raised with new forces, trustful in the future and the heart full with courage. Our holy and noble cause entrusted to divine protection.
At some time from there, being not far from Alba (pertaining to Puslowski) one morning around 3 A.M., we heard distant shots. Soon after a peasant arrived who came on these sides and told us that a few kilometres only from us, the Russians had met Wlodek and after having exchanged some bullets, they started shooting from different sides. Hoping to join Wlodek, we left the field in the direction that the peasant indicated to us. It is necessary that I tell here that, the day before, our small detachment entered the camp, had seen Russians in small number close to the village on outskirts of the forest. Wlodek wanted to go after them and required which were those who wanted joining him. At once, all our Company approved and was held ready. Hardly the Russians had seen us at the moment, leaving the food that they were preparing.
We left as I mentioned it above, but soon we realized that the peasant had disappeared: someone was sent on all sides in order to find him, but he was in vain. By approaching the indicated place, instead of seeing Wlodek, we saw only Russians installed in farms. At once, the command was given: a company was to remain with the camp and the two other groups go on sides and to surround the enemy. We were in the plain. Before we carried out the given commands, the Russians had seen us and fled losing their legs. We rushed after them. One told us that after having stopped a little there, they were fleeing towards Michalin. We sprang in this direction and before arriving at the inn located at one half-kilometer of the village, our avant-garde saw Russians and massacred them at once. At the same time, troops on the two sides started the shooting. It was already midday. Before Wlodek had given the command to move back to the camp towards Nuka, I was already in full fire and I saw simultaneously two detachments. Ours fought valiantly. At the end of one hour hardly, I could not believe that of a whole Russian battalion and a score of Cossacks, there did not remain even one soldier upright. Their camping, their ammunition, their drums, all was for us. The Russians perished in a great number: I could not say how many, because we did not have time to count deaths. They had a great number of casualties whom they transported to Siedlce and Pruzany, and of which not even one, as I was told, did cure wounds. Those which could escape fled without helmet and weapons, towards Siedlce and Pruzany, entering the city and howling like daemons: "More than 5 000 Polish fights us and moves towards Pruzany". The wounds of our enemies were all the more serious since our insurrectionists were using angular bullets.
Nobody of us thought to chase them. We remained on the spot, i.e. to three hundred meters from there. Rifles that we had seized from escaping enemy killed more than one Russian. For example, at entrance of the inn, Wladyslaw Leckiewicz shot down many on the bridge that crosses the road. We had few losses compared to those of the enemy. We had to deplore the death of Adolf Klebowicz, chancellor of Pruzany, two peasants (armed with forgery) of which I am unaware of the names then we had two mortally wounded men. Antoni Wladyczanski and Denis Strawinski died soon. The first expired the following day in the thatched cottage of a forester and the Russians during our second encounter, of which I will say some words further, killed the second. Among our casualties, Antoni Zukoroski had the two fists crushed by bullets. The binoculars of Wlodek that hung from his belt were broken, and a bullet crossing a sleeve burned the skin above the fist. I can give these details because it is myself who bandaged his wounds. Feeling of joy overwhelmed us all when we found ourselves healthy and safe in rows on the road. We regretted our died comrades, but we had killed so many Russians! Each one of us forgot tiredness of the day. We did not doubt any more our own forces and regained a confidence. It gave us so great proof of courage and calmed down our minds. With buckled tears, we embraced ourselves all, expressing by this mutual assurance what our hearts felt. At this time there, no word could have expressed what we tested. This moment, alas, was of a short duration! The second Russian company that we had wanted to attack the day before had learned (undoubtedly from the peasant who had informed us so well of their presence) where we are. Thus knowing that we had their battalion in front of us, they moved in carriages in order to gain a speed and attack us behind at the time when we left the battlefield. The day started to fall, our ammunition were almost exhausted. The combat did not last a long time: it was necessary for us to withdraw. We had one casualty, Roman Nadolski of Pruzany, who was reached in the groin. Our dead comrades were mutilated so much by the Muscovites that it was difficult to recognize them. Thus our comrade Klebowicz killed in the preceding combat received so many blows of bayonet and was gashed with sabre that his sisters could recognize him only by the cloth that he had and which Russians had not stripped because they found it too much soiled in blood. They also killed an old man, a glassmaker, an absolutely innocent person killed only because of his complete deafness. He did not understand the Russian language so he could not answer their questions. The Russians took this dumbness for lack of co-operation and dissimulation. Such was this memorable day.
I took a share with the Insurrection only as doctor, but unfortunately, I could not be of a great help, the field of our action was mainly in Lithuania. Always walking, we could not transport with us the patients and the casualties. We would become even less operational. It was impossible for us to get to them and calm them down which required their state. It was difficult for us to leave them with compatriots with the risk to compromise those who lodged them. In the final analysis, the wounded generally died on the spot for lack of essential care that we could not lavish on them. This was unhappy situation for us all: better was worth being killed with one blow than to die after long and cruel anguish! And what a dreadful position for a doctor seeing oneself reduced with the impotence in front of the casualties who required so much delicate care! Because of that and especially because of my bad health, I did not remain a long time any more in the Insurrection. The wandering so painful that we unceasingly made on foot through the forests deteriorated my health so much. I was little accustomed to such an excess of tiredness that I had to continue. I often disappeared. Then one day the wheel of a carriage heavily crushed my foot. I then lost the little of force which remained in me and it was impossible for me not only go, but to hold myself upright. My legs were swollen, I suffered terribly from the kidneys. Fortunately not far from the place where we were then my uncle lived, in Kobylowka, a field belonging to Zamoyski. My uncle was the manager. He sought me and took me along to his place; from there, I went to my parents where I remained until my arrest.
Before even as I had returned to health and had regained my strength, I lived already to see the fall of the Insurrection. Therefore I tried only to return to my comrades. In addition, my parents had a great need for my assistance. Unfortunately, the reality was different. Initially, I felt so weak that I could not hold myself upright, neither to remain lying, nor to even think without tiredness. When I was in a position to leave, I was going to visit our unhappy wounded. I could not find them at the same place because, in order not to be taken, they were obliged to wander in the forests under the guard of a decent person who took care of them. Among them, of terribly wounded, in the height of the summer the worms generally invaded the wounds which were bandaged only very seldom. I do not know by which miracle these men whose wounds were mortal returned little by little to health. Their horrible wounds cured and were closed and one hardly could believe in a similar thing when one thinks under which conditions of hygiene these unhappy were. I could quote many examples, in addition to what I saw myself, I can quote many cases similar provided by my colleagues from the Kingdom with whom I was in contact either in prisons or on the road to Siberia and even during my stay in Tomsk.
Staying at my parents, I intended to speak about cruelty and about cowardice of the heads of the Russian army, for example of one named Kremev (major) which one can call "the assassin" and of his worthy collaborator Domazyrow (lieutenant). This last had been born and been living in Lublin. They behaved like Mongolian generals as their names suggested. Both of them allowed cruelties imposed as well on the prisoners during the Board of Inquiry as on inhabitants of the cities and the provinces killing the most innocent with blows of whip (nahajki) during the investigation. A young man, treasurer of the village of Kimatyck named Paszkiewicz had the crossed rib cage right through and died the following day. The Russians forced the doctor to declare that he had died of tuberculosis. His death involved his wife who fell through and the child. They ill-treated a poor disabled person, Medard Skoczynski. Then they focused on an old man and on many others whom were tortured. They also did it to a widow of old age, Sabina Ostromecka. I do not insist to mention all the insults of which were watered with each step on their victims and of the insults such as only can utter the worthy children of the Russian Empire. In the surroundings of Pruzany, they set fire to a whole locality and ploughed down the ruins and all the inhabitants were sent without judgement to the eastern part of Russia. They stripped even the children of their clothing. The little poor had to cross Russia in full winter and in spite of the feelings of pity of the inhabitants of Moscow where men and women covered them with their furs and gave them money, all died before arriving to the destination. They set fire to Pruzany and blamed the insurrectionists to have put fire, in twenty places at the same time. Exasperated, the inhabitants managed to seize some Cossacks while arming themselves with wood from their houses in ruin and trailed them in front of the commanders whereas they still held in hand the torches that had lit the fires. They claimed justice with the military authorities. Russians immediately promised it to them and here is the conclusion: occupants immediately slackened the defendants and in all the newspapers, they made appear articles showing the insurrectionists to have put fire to the city. We could not have put fire to this city during the Insurrection. We were far away from the cities. And what kind of goal would have been a similar act? We could not even have acted by revenge because the town of Pruzany always carried out with zeal all that it considered useful to our cause. No one could from now on go any more from one district to the other, even from one village to another without obtaining a Government written authorization. The contributions overpowered all the noble ones. The state confiscated their goods. The government liquidated the land. The art objets were mutilated and destroyed with vandalism without precedent. The country was subjected to all abuses with fire and blood. Local officials were replaced by worst kind of servants sent from Russia. The exiled or other civil servants whose only crime was to be a Catholic or to bear a Polish name were fired. This rabble was staying long evening in the inns and it was not rare to see decorations trailing in the mud of the brooks. Muraviev, the "peacemaker"! This wound of Lithuania shone already in all the glare of its infernal glory and vomited on our unhappy country all tortures of the hell.
Generally, each insurrection involves after it certain abuses. On one side the despair and the revenge on an oppressed nation and the other side the fury of the usurper enter in scene. Under these conditions, it is difficult to put a brake at the atrocities and massacres which accompany any civil war fatally. In all these infringements with the military laws, one can recognize the character of people, a degree of intellectual development and, so to speak the value of a race. It was whereas the Russians proved how much it still was in them the character of their ancestors and several centuries were not enough for them to remove this cruelty that glorified formerly their fathers. One can easily find a proof of what I say in the attitude of Ganeckoy. He was a man of ripe age with the congested face that expressed a constant state of anger. Outside, he was thus little engaging, thin, always agitated, carrying a grey cardigan and wearing long boots: here, in a way, a typical portrait of a commander of Russian Army troops. One did not know which were his origins and why this station had been entrusted to him. It was visible that he avoided fighting with us because partisans traversed the district from one end to another with the speed of light. He wished to be liked by the Emperor and preferred to be useful in delivering bullets. In truth, he was this kind of man whose life was more in safety. It would be difficult and long to enumerate his exploits. I will speak only about facts of which I can be sure of the authenticity. One day, he walked in full gale in Pruzany. He met a teacher with name of Giedroyc, he asked him where was the post office. At once, the teacher indicated to him politely in which direction he should go. They separated. After few steps, pretending to have forgotten to request another information from Giedroyc, he turned back, called him and started to challenge him, pointing out to him that the teacher had dared to speak to him without a proper respect: he should however have seen with whom he dealt. Ganeckoy asked, " Who are you? " and when he learned that he was a teacher, reacted with a fury against the person. He had a very special aversion for the teachers, probably because they spread around them the civilization that he feared. The poor fellow would certainly end up in prison if, by a fortunate coincidence, an officer had not appeared suddenly and Ganeckoy focused on him reacting like insane, insulting him in Russian and in this way he forgot his first victim. The similar event to the retired old teacher happened to Charewski who sat on the threshold of his house, rather far away from the road and had not taken off his cap with the passage of Ganeckoy. That day, poor Jew could not escape a punishment and had to accept fifty blows of whip, just on the street. Ganeckoy satisfied with the work done in Pruzany, went to Szeretew. There, from morning to evening, he worked for his Tsar in the same way. It should be mentioned here that at the time of the passage of Boginski in this village, we took two inhabitants and a Jew and condemned them to be hung for their betrayal of Boginski, when they revealed to Russians where he was. One of captured inhabitants succeeded in fleeing and thus escaped death. The other and the Jew were hung. Ganeckoy, in his incomprehensible kindness, ordered to the inhabitant who escaped with his life from our hands to execute two hundred blows of whip on someone else in the public place. The punishment was directed to one of our partisans, a young student who got lost on the road and whom I do not remember any more the name, could not come to the right place and the enemy captured him. During the execution he was treated in an atrocious way. When the unhappy one started to die and he had to be held upright, his hands were attached to the arms of cross and he was struck so cruelly that he became almost dead. Without leaving the great place of the village, the commander called for the orthodox priest, ordering him to come and celebrate a funeral service on the spot in the memory of the inhabitant and the Jew who had been hung. Frightened priest ran at once. The service was celebrated in the presence of uhlans, of the inhabitants and the Jews that he had made come and whom, on the command of Ganeckoy, had to kneel and be raised several times during the ceremony. I hold this account to the priest who told me that when the finished ceremony required kissing the cross and the relics by everybody, he did not know how to react. Thus, he turned to Ganeckoy; he asked him whether all without exception were to kiss the cross. Fortunately for the priest, Ganeckoy was in a hurry to finish the celebration and kissed the cross with his officers and turned to the Jews, shouting: " bring wine! ". In a wink, one brought wines and glasses. Then filling two glasses and by taking one in each hand, he ran like mad through the place, forcing all the assistants to shout "Hurrah for the Tsar!". Misfortune waited those who abstained from doing it. The wine that fell from two glasses stained his clothing. During this time, his officers emptied bottles; magically the alcohol did not get to their heads. At the end, they got all into carriages and left the village.
This General would never allow that his orders were discussed. The unhappy one who had this audacity had paid his temerity with the whip. It was not all what happened in our vicinity. The General had required that everybody provide him the carriages for the transport of the whole his regiment from one small village from the surroundings. However the village was too poor, so that the execution of this kind of order was not possible. One of noble having dared to make the remark of it was condemned to the torment of the whip. Another time, he spent the night at the orthodox priest, in the district of Kobrynsk, near Triel. There was a small field whose owner was an old gentleman. While staying there, the priest had some unkind comments with Ganeckoy about the old landowner, so that the next morning, the old man saw his field invaded by uhlans. He was afraid that they arrived to him just to annoy him. At once, Ganeckoy approached him and asked where was the owner. "It is myself " "Where is your son?" "Two years ago, I sent him to the University of St Petersburg and I did not see him since; He writes sometimes, but for a long time I did not have any more any news from him." "You lie, you son of bitch, you sent him to the insurrectionists". The old man said that the commander was wrong and he said true. "Seize him". Soldiers threw him at once to the ground and one of them coiled blows of whip. His wife and her daughters ran and threw themselves to the knees of Ganeckoy, beseeching his pity. He pushed them back brutally with foot and little was required that he could order to beat them too in turn. They had to flee back to the house while crying, where soon someone brought the old man without consciousness.
Hardly this drama had been just completed that another started. The treasurer seeing how the Russians maltreated his master feared for himself. He hid well imprudently in a haystack. The uhlans and the Cossacks were searching everywhere intended to find a guilty; they found him and dragged him in front of their commander; they assumed that because this one had hidden he must be quite guilty. Ganeckoy did not need any reason. He ordered to give 50 blows of whip to the unfortunate treasurer.
It is painful to tell similar things: it would seem that they are Arab tales of Thousand and One Nights. However, all that is only too true, alas! Here is the typical Russian officer, supporting the Tsar, the representative of this "wise government" and here that he made us to endure of their share. In our district the peasants even had to suffer more. There was between Pruzany and Bozany an inaccessible road during the winter and which the government wanted to improve. The commander Ellis decided, in order to facilitate the passage of the troops, to remake the road. He brought the men per hundreds from all of district to work there although at that time of the year peasants were occupied with the agricultural work. To achieve his goal he had to cut down part of the superb forest belonging to the count Zamoyski. More than 1,500 men worked there in order to finish it as fast as possible. I heard this story from the mouth of the military assessor of Siedlce when he submitted his report on the execution of last work to the military commander. At the time, I was not yet arrested. Ellis while speaking about this colossal work, he expressed himself: "this way, I was made to raise a monument here". But he did not worry how much this work had cost tears and sweats to these poor people, how much of curses were launched against him by all these peasants oppressed by tiredness. God keeps us never to forget it! The Pharaohs of Egypt raised formerly pyramids which testifies still nowadays to their dreadful despotism: all people were used to raise these stone giants, built with the sweat and with the blood of their subjects to satisfy only their pleasure. But how all that is far from us! The Tsar could have raised a city on desiccated marshes. He built the foundations of his palaces using craniums of his subjects. However why a small personality such as a head of district has the right to force thousands of men to work thus to satisfy his whims. That of the fate of our unhappy country can judge one.
Arrest.
I was arrested and taken to the prison of Pruzany on November 22, 1863.
I was captured in the house of my parents and was transported to Pruzany by the military commander who had to denounce me as having taken share in the Insurrection. The searches that were made in our house did not bring the discovery of any compromising paper. I was thus determined not to acknowledge anything: however I knew that it would be to me difficult to prove where I was during the time of the Insurrection. I could have declared that being a doctor of the district, I traversed the entire district, but unfortunately it was easy to check my statements, because each time I went in a village, I was obliged to sign on a register to announce my passage. Moreover, while seeking where, why and when I left Cherechew and discovering the trace of my passage, I compromised all those at which I had stopped at the time of my departure for the Insurrection, and even my brother-in-law, Ludomir Pizanka who helped me was jeopardised. I decided thus only to let myself guided by the circumstances.
The military commander accepted me rather politely and he even enabled me to go to sleep downtown under the only condition that I would give a written promise to him not to leave the city without his authorization and before my lawsuit was not finished. It seemed to me that circumstances arranged themselves for the best. Obviously, I took care not to acknowledge anything. The commander did not consult with me his hand-written report. He sent his adjutant to the chancellery to write my promise there. When this one returned, he gave to the commander a sheet while showing him a passage that related to me. I guessed that it was about me and about a denunciation. The commander opened large eyes, looked at me fixedly and posing the paper sheet on the table, he exclaimed "There is however unquestionable evidence that you took part in the insurrection". I denied vigorously, explaining to him that the person who denounced me had undoubtedly made an error having intended to speak not about me but about one of my three German cousins who were in the Insurrection. Among them, I said to him, I was not only a doctor and all three were called Okinczyc. I could speak about my cousins without fear, because the doctor was already exiled in Kungur, in the province of Perm and my two other cousins had already fled and were beyond the border. I did not manage however to convince him. He enabled me nevertheless to go to sleep downtown, but gave me the command to show up at his place the next morning at 10 am. I suspected that I would have then in front of me "eyewitnesses" who would testify against me. I speculated that if, at this time, I had had a score of roubles at my disposal, I would have fled towards the border, but alas, I did not have anything. I had intended to say that those who did not want to acknowledge were condemned on the only testimony of eyewitnesses and they were not less persecuted from those who acknowledged all. I thus decided to make for best, to acknowledge if that became necessary and to act according to circumstances', while returning the following day at the hour indicated in my judge. When I arrived at his place around 10 a.m., I managed to clear myself a passage among people who were there with some difficulties.
When I was in the centre of the room, the commander asked witnesses by pointing at me if they recognized me. O misfortune: all, unanimously, recognized me. My heart sunk hearing a similar cowardice; turning my glances towards them, I suffered even more ensuring that among the people present none was known to me. They came to testify wrongfully under the threat, or it can be, they repeated only whatever the oppressors had intended them to say. Let’s God be the judge! I forgave them for a long time, of similar people being worthier of pity than contempt. The commander turned then to me and said: "I did say to you that I would convince you". I was furious. I solved all through acknowledging costs versus other costs. I approached then and I said to him that I wished to speak only to him without any witnesses. It appeared magic. With a sign of hand, he made all the assistants come out and took along me to his room. He did not let to me open the mouth before I had not sat, probably believing that while acting politely, he would obtain more complete consents and even some denunciations. When I said to him that indeed I had taken part in the Insurrection in the capacity as doctor, he spelled to me at once a whole Russian speech, arguing that my fate would be much better if I could make more complete and more sincere consents. Naturally I promised to him to acknowledge all and nothing to hide. He then put in front of me a paper sheet, a kind of questionnaire where, with the glance, I was to register my answers. For all the defendants, the formula was the same one: "Who are you? To which religion do you belong? Which is your social position? When have you joined the insurrection? To which group have you joined? Quote the names of your comrades. Who was your commander? Who provided the weapons, the ammunition and the food?" In my answers, the words "not" or "I do not know" generally appeared and, instead of quoting the name of my comrades, I have cared to put the names of those who had died or whom had fled abroad. He read my answers, made a sad figure and for the second time, he repeated his long speech but could not, in spite of that, to obtain more consent from me. At the end, he asked me what had been my intention by taking part in the Insurrection. "Which were the moral reasons which pushed you to take part in this insurrection?"
It was impossible for me to lie more, like furious soothsayers, I launched openly risking to be condemned to die: "in the name of an old and very known feeling: to deliver my fatherland out of the oppression of the enemies". That was enough for him. He squeaked the teeth and told to me: "At present, I am obliged to stop you". Pretending an exaggerated courtesy, he devoured me with his eyes. "Do you still allow me", I asked, "to sleep downtown if I give you my word of honor that I will not leave the city without your permission?" "I then grant that to you", he answered me curtly, hiding his hands in its long sleeves as if he had fears that I would shake the hand with him when I advanced towards and I gave him my word of honor. He could remain calm: I did not have any intention to shake the hand with him. "But", he added, "I will send you to the n°4, you will be there better than in any other prison". It should be said that no other district had been as cruelly persecuted as that of Pruzany. Not only the prison n°1 could not contain all the prisoners, but also the three houses, which the Russians had had to rent for this purpose, could not handle the load. It was right to say that one was better in the houses, because one did not smell others there being not surrounded by walls as in the prison and one could, at least to see the passers by the windows and that even was a great pleasure. For my account, however, I preferred being in the n°1 because a good number of friends and even my first cousin Witold were there. I thus answered the commander: "please send me to the n°1". Not understanding the reason which pushed me to ask him that, he raised the shoulders, rolled of large eyes and greeting me as it was appropriate to an officer of the Guard, he answered to me: "With great pleasure!"
Directly from his place, I was taken along to the prison. It was on November 23, 1863. At the time, when I left with the officer, my brother Zenon who watched for my passage joined me. He met me when he learned the fate that awaited me. I said to him in a few words how my parents were to behave and how they would have to answer. It was necessary at all costs that they support in front of the judges that I had left for the Insurrection. I had still time to warn them, I tried to teach my brother what he would have to answer if he would be called before the Board of Inquiry. What a dreadful sorrow for me when it was due to leave my brother: his tears made me still more suffer that my own situation. I was at this time in a feverish state, I was agitated with the possibilities: in other words, I did not realize yet well of my sad situation; I could not believe that all that was real. But when the gates of the prison had been closed again on me and at the end of a few hours after seeing all my captive friends, I entered a painful moral state. I revived all my past, I understood that I would have to soon leave the present life, to endure quite cruel tests; all my dreams of youth disappeared, in a word all my present situation appeared to me in its afflicting reality. During a few days, it was impossible for me to sleep and I taken no food. But in this world all has an end: the man is even able to be accustomed to an unhappy sometimes fate and, with the help of my comrades who, despite everything, took again courage, hope, we spent quite soft moments in prison. Only one among us, Alexander Wyslonek, was always inconsolable. I remained in this prison until April 1, 1864, i.e. until my transfer to the prison of Grodno. My brother Wladyslaw sent each day to us food. My parents forwarded cloths and all I needed to me. Thanks to the Russian soldiers that one could buy with bribes, we managed to communicate with the people from the outside. In spite of the incarceration, we got books, paper, pencils, cards, and brandy. One locked up us with key only for the night and as we were there by three in the rooms, we were not bored during the long evenings. Almost all the nobility of our district was locked up in the prison. There was among us only one woman, Mrs Sabina Ostromecka, widow of an older age, in company of whom I made later the whole voyage to Siberia. It is she to whom I owe my life, her role near me was always that of a devoted mother: besides she was a remarkable woman. I do not believe that in our district, there was one noble who was not in prison and who, moreover, did not have to pay a big amount of money. My parents, for example, had to pay a sum of 200 roubles, to have taken me at their premises when I left the Insurrection. They had to pay these 200 roubles as soon as possible and my parents did not have this kind of money available. My mother, although extremely suffering, went to her parents in order to borrow the money. Her step succeeded only in half, but when at the end of three days, she returned to the house, a new misfortune awaited her. My younger sister Stanislawa died almost suddenly of the croup ... I do not believe that in our country, there was a family that could escape the tests from all kinds. Poor country!
As long as the Board of Inquiry had not ruled on my fate, it was forbidden to me to see parents and friends. But in spite of this rule, we had found a means of seeing them here and there. There was a well about a hundred steps out of the prison, not far from the thatched cottage of an invalid soldier. It was with this well that we were going to obtain water under the escort of two soldiers. To make it working, we had to dress in such way that one had sorrow to recognize us in the street. We had to be careful, because the Russians could suspect our trick. We approached close to the well and there, parents and friends came to see us. One hardly saw others a few minutes, but how much this so short time was precious and desired for us! Fortunately that this pleasure only cost us little, so that we often paid soldiers again and again. Later, when the investigation was finished, one enabled us to see parents and friends, but only in the presence of the officers. I will say some words about our lawsuit. On the Day of the Kings, for the first time I had to appear before the Board of Inquiry and then a few days later my lawsuit was finished. For me, it did not occur anything new, because I did not add anything to my first consents. If I had wanted to bring some changes even there, I could not, because the Russians had already questioned my servant; he knew where I had been and did not find anything any more which could worsen my situation. During these investigations, I became acquainted with a man of a remarkable honesty with whom I bound friendship and whose memory will remain to me always present. It is all the more extraordinary since this man was Russian and the President of the Board of Inquiry: he was major, Serge Dejnatowicz, originating, I believe, from the district of Tulsk. Among so much the malicious ones that were sent after us, only he had real heart. Unfortunately, he could not do much for us, because it was impossible for him to do something without the consent of the other Members of the Commission. But in many circumstances, he gave us evidence of his honesty, never showing us, seeking on the contrary to excuse the answers that we provided to the Board of Inquiry. At the end, disgusted role that he played, role unworthy of his honest nature, he resigned. The first time when I saw him, I benefited from the only moment when we were alone saying to me how I should answer the Board of Inquiry. I expected little on behalf of a Russian. I suspected him to trick me. But fixedly looking at him in the eyes, I realised that he was an honest man unable of such cowardice. He, on his side, could read in my eyes how much my accusations were serious. I knew that my lawsuit would finish badly and that nothing could improve my situation. He said to me later many times how much he considered it regrettable that I had carried myself, at the time of my first consents: without that, my fate would have perhaps been less dreadful. When my lawsuit was finished, I had more often the occasion to speak to him, and then I appreciated it more. He relied on my medical knowledge and on a very particular friendship with me. When he had become acquainted with my parents, he comforted them, and as soon as the opportunity arose, he enabled me to see them. Lastly, when I was due to leave for Grodno and I had just bidden my farewell with my family, I was already placed on the carriage he approached me with tears in his eyes. He told me these words full with simplicity and generosity: "Do not loose courage, it is not for nothing. With the assistance of God, the corn will be grounded and there will be flour (proverb) ". Who could have suspected that his sympathetic thought would be carried out one day!
I would extend more on this subject, because all that is referred to the time when I was still near my family that I often saw them. I knew well when there were last days when I passed near my parents. From one day to another, I expected to be separated from my family forever. I knew that, soon, I would be obliged to leave my native soil, to say good-bye to all that I valued on this land! There were terrible tests and this is why their memory is deeply engraved in my thoughts and my heart. And today, while reviving here all details at the same time these dear and painful moments, it seems to me that I dream and that the dreadful moment of separation did not arrive yet. I wish that we were not in hiding-place, but I would prefer to be able to pass the whole evenings together in the open. We had so many things to say to each other! We forgot all our misery and these hours became for us moments of happiness. These interviews admittedly took place in the room of the Board of Inquiry, in the presence of officers, but the room was very vast; we were very numerous and we knew each other. We spoke in low voices and in Polish and we could not speak about all. The officers, to distract themselves, generally came to sit down near the women and these poor unhappy were often forced to smile. They tried to say a witty remark although their heart was mortally sad with the thought that their father, brother or husband vegetated in prison, waiting until he was exiled or that one will be connected with a wheelbarrow in the mines of Siberia. These meetings were sometimes animated that a person being unaware of our situation would have been able to believe that he witnessed some merry meeting. We could see parents and friends from 4 to 9 o'clock in the evening twice per week. Anyone rather easily could obtain the authorisation to see his family another day in an emergency. The good Dejnatowicz never refused us anything. He even enabled me to attend the burial of my sister: he gave only one soldier without weapon and I could remain all the day downtown. At this time, Dejnatowicz replaced the commander as a head, if not he could not have given me such a broad authorization. Around 9 hours, the officers looked at their watches and, at once, silence was in the room: more than one tear ran during the good-byes. In the life, all finish thus? After the joy comes the pain. What joy? Is not this an illusion, one moment of distraction, the lapse of memory, for one moment, of our true situation? Thanks to these interviews, we could get all that was required for the defence. They should have made it available at the time of our entry to the prison. We were always in good terms with the soldiers and the warrant officer of service, who every evening came to lock up us with key, received some money from us. Sometimes he got bribes more than the service that he returned to us. In prison, one of my great distractions was to draw with the pencil the portrait of my comrades: I made some more than three hundreds. How much I would like to have them still with me today! What a soft memory for me! I made also many drawings in Siberia and during my stay in Tomsk. At the time of my escape, I kept two of them: the portrait of my uncle Felix and that of my benefactor Mrs Ostromecka.
Among the distractions which we still had in prison, it is necessary me to mention our walks to the bath. Every Saturday, we could leave the prison, cross some streets. The establishment was extremely dirty and we went there generally only "pro forma..." We walked in-groups surrounded by ten soldiers. What a joy of breathing a little air, of seeing people, of greeting them, of shaking with them hand sometimes. The people who wished to see us went to the establishment of baths and there, with the help of money given to the soldiers, one could socialise at ease, during one hour. The soldiers were quiet in order not to be seen by some officer who had suddenly passed. I wonder why I am anxious to tell so much about the last happy moments in prison instead of all the sufferings that we must have endure. But it is true that the sufferings are erased more from our memory then joy. In the life the memory of the past would be quite bitter if miseries, the concerns and sorrows remained as present at our spirit as the happy moments. Let us listen to speech of an old man. For him, the memory of the past is always important, it defer unceasingly like the sunflower towards the sun. Why? However, the sky as life could not free from clouds. Miseries, the sufferings that he has endured have a charm for him today precisely because now they are destroyed in the past. Today, I feel the same thing as the old man. In addition to all these quite thin distractions seemingly and from which we all could profit, I have, as doctor, the advantage of leaving downtown to follow my occupation. Unfortunately, I obtained this permission only during the last month of my stay in Pruzany and it was, alas, too late. I could then to see not only the patients, but also the friends quite bearing under a pretext of looking after them. I remained absent sometimes two and three days. What a joy for me to feel free for one moment! Although an officer escorted me, it was enough for me to nourish him well and to make him well drunk, and I was removed from his presence. All the time I had to remind myself that not enough freedom was left. I will tell how I obtained this very special permit. One morning, I learned from a person from the city that someone was appointed to search in our prison under pretext that the day before some other person had seen my Wladyslaw's, sister-in-law and Mrs Alexander Bummel crossing through the gate. Some even said that they had certainly had to penetrate in the prison. All this was false. To prevent any punishment, we hid all the risky objects which we had such as pencils, colors, cards... etc in our pockets. We were very seldom searched. Since morning, we circulated the faggots from pocket to pocket. Suddenly, at 10 o'clock, a prison guard called my first cousin, Witold before the Board of Inquiry. It was rare that prisoners were asked at this hour, therefore we expected the worst which was going to occur. Fifteen minutes passed before officials called my name. Both of us met with Bummel, we were the only prisoners who could have been suspected to see her the day before. I was so exited that I forgot that my pockets were full with suspicious objects; I remembered of it only too late and then I could not do anything about it? My concern grew more and more. In the anteroom, I did not see any cardigan, nor fur. That assured me that authorities made us come - not to see any member of our family - but for some unpleasant reason and that certainly, they were going to investigate us. When I opened the door of the room, seeing my aunt Felix with my German cousin Sophia Kulikowska and her daughter Helena, a pretty girl, surprised me. My brother was also with them. My heart felt discharged from a great weight at this sight and I was very merry of this pleasant surprised. Their furs were near them. There was no officer present in this room. I had embraced them and I prepared myself to sit when the famous Domazyrow, this brigand of which I already spoke, entered. He went directly towards me and ordered me to follow him to his room, contiguous to that where he found us because he wished to speak to me. My forecasts seemed to be confirmed more. While entering his room, I saw a whole bunch of officers, employees, and spies in a word, all the joined together rabble. At once the door had been closed, Domazyrow turned to me and asked me to check his health because he felt very suffering. My trial had given him whole confidence in my knowledge. Thank you God! I thought, all would finish thus.
With this moment, I preferred to see him on the scaffold for all his crimes, but what could I do if not to check his health. He was rough and big size, but he was very narrow and very weak in the chest area. Frequently he had spat blood with a great violence. I thus evaluated him at once and gave him an ordinance of which the effect was immediate that one week afterwards he could go to the ball, which delighted him. My fame was made and as from this day, I could follow my occupation. Consequently, Domaryzow treated me as a friend, at least pretended to be one, because I believe that rascal was not capable of noble feelings.
There was not for me of greater trouble when, at the visiting times the eyes of everyone focused on me, he came to me across the room in order to show me his sympathy. I felt a major dislike for this monster and I did not manage to hide the feelings that animated from me. Another cure increased my fame. I made the exact diagnosis of the disease of the officer Tomaszewicz whom someone wrongly defined as typhus. I was called for consultation and my care given to him brought him soon on his feet. I had written to the commander and asked him to allow me to go and see the patients and the business was concluded. I was allowed always to go with a "guardian angel". I went several times to Stara Wola, Wreko, located a mile from Pruzany to see Bummel who had one sick child. I also went to Cherechew to see orthodox priest Tokarewski. I also went to Bialowiez at the forester whose woman was seriously sick. I noted then how much I was loved in Cherechew where I had been established doctor and how much I was regretted. It was with a grand sorrow when I walked in the streets because many attacked me on all sides, embracing my knees, the hands and thanking me for having saved one his wife, the other his brother. This one owed me the life of his/her child.
I was blessed, someone cried over my present situation. When sometimes, seeing me only in the street, without being escorted by the officer or the soldier who always accompanied me, the brave men inhabitants believed that I was saved forever and free. They believed that I returned among them for always. But when I said to them that it was not the case, they required being comforted, they promised me to request for me and they were certain that God will listen to them. It may be, indeed, that God heard their prayers. How I have just told is one of the most cherished memories that I remember from my fatherland!
When the child of Bummel had been transported to Pruzany and when my brother Wladyslaw who was then in prison could not look any more after him, I went there almost each day. I remained from morning to the evening there. A soldier led me to him and came only to get me in the evening. Often, Dejnatowicz himself came to take me. He would not have had more sorrow if his own child had been sick. Bummel was still in Stara Wola, Dejnatowicz found me with full hands, asking me to let him help near the sick child. With this intention, he had prepared harness for horses and we left immediately because at 8 next morning Dejnatowicz was to be sitting as President at the Board of Inquiry. He did not close his eyes when he saw harms. Later, he begged Bummel to accept his own carriage when it was required to transfer the child to Pruzany. In front of him, we could escape with freedom. He only informed us to be more careful, because somebody could have listened at the door. What a brave man with Russian heart!
I have the joy of visiting twice my parents, the first time when my mother was sick and, the second time, passing not far from their premises Dejnatowicz lengthened a little the trip and stopped there. He helped me even sometimes to make some visits in the surroundings. I always returned from my excursions with letters, cigars, and delicacies. I brought back also a little money, because I accepted pay without scruples from orthodox priests and the Russians who claimed my care. My comrades waited my return impatiently, because I shared all with them. And then, I always brought back so much news from the outside. One evening that I re-entered from the cold, having left slightly shivering, I found myself so glad coming back to a hot barrack room that I could not prevent myself from making a remark to my comrades. "Nothing astonishing, answered me Berndt, is not there a proverb which says that one is well everywhere but best, at home". The good chap always had the word to make us laugh. He was always merry and never allowed the others to sadden. He still comes to my mind when a sad episode took place at the time of my stay in Pruzany. I will say of it only a few words. The subject is too painful. I want to tell about the balls that the commander gave as a head and to which assisted many noble Polish and women. It is true that, perhaps, some were forced there, but how much went there by pleasure! Could they have fun whereas the prisons abounded in victims and that their brothers still poured their blood for the Polish cause? What a disturbing reality...
About the last days of March 1864, I received the command to leave from Grodno with a certain Mister Wielowiejski, also prisoner in Pruzany. With this news, my heart filled of sadness: the moment approached where I was to separate myself from all mine and I envisaged well that it would be a final separation. I wanted absolutely to reunite with my parents before my departure, but I knew how much that would be difficult for me, my parents living many miles from Pruzany. I did not have time for sending them news that my departure was being imminent. As for Wielowiejski, his family lived even further and as he was unaware of the fate that he awaited, it would have meant a lot the last good-bye to his wife and to his girls. This time still, the brave Dejnatowicz came with assistance to us. He made delay of three days for departure. In this way, we had time to inform our families; Dejnatowicz even enabled me to write to my parents and he let my letter forwarded to my sister-in-law, the wife of Wladyslaw, who gave it to my family following day. I awaited the arrival of my family with a feverish impatience. Anxious not to see anybody and fearing of new misfortune at home, I was ordered to hasten, because the hour of the departure approached. My envoy met them on the road. Their delay to come to see me was due to the fact that, they did know about my so close departure, also my parents hoped to give me many things like linen and clothing and these were not completely ready. Not having a servant to help them, my mother and my sister, Constance had to prepare all themselves. Each object was flooded with their tears, therefore work advanced only slowly, in spite of their great desire to come to see me as quickly as possible. Finally, I lived to see my father and my mother, my brother Zénon and my sister Constancy. We lived through quite sad moments. I comforted them as well as I could. I tried to give courage to my poor parents who lamented unceasingly. My heart broke sorrow by looking at them. I doubt that one can meet on earth such a loving family, so attached, as plain as was ours. It is then easy to guess what pain filled our hearts. It seems to me that those who did not have happiness to live with close family, who never experienced their sorrow with the heart of a mother, who, only, is animated with fully satisfied feelings. Those finally of whom the tired face is never revived under the kisses of a mother, these, I say, are unaware of completely what can be the attachment and the devotion of a family towards one of its members, feelings unknown in the world apart from the family. It was terrible to think that I had forever to be separated from all that. I had moreover the knowledge that the enemy hand broke so close links. It was atrocious. It was a pure pain! We felt feelings of revenge; we comforted ourselves with the thought that each one of our tears, to us poor innocent, would fall like pitch on the conscience of our enemies.
Until the day of my departure, we saw ourselves twice per day. However I do not remember more subjects of our conversation. How could I repeat those moments? Our thoughts did not have any continuation: for us, the past and the future did not exist, there were only present days. Bitterness and then pain corroded our hearts. We found no consolation, and no courage. By seeing my so desperate parents, my heart broke. Their future therefore was worthy of pity. My father had become blind for last few years. My mother aged before the years by the concern of the life and education of her children. I foresaw for them a quite dark future: the land that they had, even if it had not been burdened with taxes could not be enough any more for their modest needs. Moreover, it was impossible for them to give my two younger brothers, Victor and Theodore a sufficient upbringing. During these days, we did not even need to speak, we understood ourselves mutually, we guessed our dark thoughts, and we did not have any need to express it. Only one glance said sometimes more than a flood of words. I still remember little details. My mother and my sister wore black cloths and these dark colors were harmonized so well with the state of their heart. In addition to clothing and linen which my parents brought to me, I still preserve today many objects which were given to me then by my mother, my brothers and sister at the time when I left the prison: a comb, a book of prayers, one spoon... etc. These objects became for me genuine relics. They did not leave me during my voyage towards the bottom of Siberia. They were my consolation inseparable during so many adventures of all kinds. How much these dumb and inanimate objects could tell things!
At the moment of my departure, so many good people whose I forgot names sent me ten roubles, believing that I was without money. I hope that God rewards them many times for what their hearts did for me! Thanks to my Russian customers, I had piled up about fifty roubles. At once, I gave to my mother money that others had just given to me and with grand' sorrow she accepted it. I knew that she perhaps required them still more then me. A time of separation approached, this so dreadful moment for us all.
It was on April 1, 1864. The day before at the evening, all was ready for the departure and the commander formally prohibited seeing each other. Thanks however to my friendship with Dejnatowicz and even with Domazyrow, my customer, it was decided that we would leave the following day not directly from the prison, but from the room of the Board of Inquiry. In this way, we could still remain with our families. In hiding-place, we were prevented to come early to the room of the Commission. At 7 o'clock in the morning, we were called to the room; we arrived with our modest luggage. There we spent two more hours with our parents. In addition to the family, some friends had come to shake hands with me: Mrs Bummel, my beautiful sister, Mrs Camille Grudzinska (a young person and pretty widow), Kiernowski, the owner of the house where the Board of Inquiry still sat. We cried to comfort ourselves from the bottom of hearts, although we did not have any glimmer of hope. Ah, how it was dreadful to think that we are leaving forever! "Forever": what a terrible word! The brave man, Dejnatowicz helped me with his comforting words. His sincere words and his sentences, often misunderstood by my parents who did not know the Russian, however managed to stop their tears. Kindness, the sympathy that emanated from his figure made them guess the words full with heart that he said to them. I thanked him with emotion for all kindness that he had for us and I shaken the hand full of heart with him. Tears rolled from his eyes when he told to me good-bye. The good-byes lasted a long time: we could not leave. It was easy to understand our delay. Finally, two carriages stopped in front of the house that a small garden separated from the street. My parents were not allowed to leave, even on the front yard, so they were not seen. Some Cossacks, led by an officer, waited for us near the carriages; our luggage was loaded and, in a few minutes all was ready for the departure. Dejnatowicz was the only one who shaken my hand when I was already in the carriage. All the windows of the nearby houses were shut. We saw friendly figures waving to us a last good-bye. I turned back and once again I saw my family which, in spite of orders, had come out on the front yard and agitated waved with hands as a sign of good-bye. Then the carriage shook led by a Cossack who, by ostentation, made his horse to jump forward; soon, all that we had valued disappeared before our eyes. Hitherto, I had managed to be in control of myself; while trying to comfort myself, I had managed to persuade that there was perhaps still a little hope in the future. However, when I was alone, it seemed to me that a block of stone fell on my chest. I could not breathe and I fell into a state of desperation that I could not overcome. The officer who had led us until Volkovysk was Tomaszewicz. He was one of whom I had cured some time ago and Dejnatowicz had chosen him purposely so that he could soften for us the road. I then have to say that he was good for us, leaving for us a certain freedom. I will never forget what he did for me while risking to expose himself. About three miles from Pruzany, we stopped and spent the night on the property of Wladyslaw Andrejkowicz. Tomaszewicz did it only because my parents lived not far from there and they, prevented by law, arrived for the night that we passed together. My poor mother ran the first, then my sister Konstancja and my three brothers Zenon, Victor and Theodore. Without this circumstance, I would not have any chance to see my two young brothers. Unfortunately, I could not meet my sister Evenile Pisanka who lived too far, just as my brother Franciszek who remained in the district of Okobrynsk. During the night my mother was calm, but, in the morning, when she had to again leave, she sobbed and the tears started again. My lawsuit had never finished before the Board of Inquiry, so that my family preserved the hope that perhaps the Council of War in Grodno could pardon me. Not knowing the outcome of my lawsuit, my parents could be easily deluded, this fact gave them a little courage. Thinking that all the Russian officers were like Dejnatowicz, they hoped that in Grodno, I would meet also brave men and decent people. Alas! I do not recall anyone similar to Dejnatowicz. To arrive at Volkovysk, we had to travel three days. The second night, we slept in an inn where we were rather free although soldiers guarded us. While arriving at Volkovysk, our officer realized that he had forgotten to take from Pruzany our identity papers that he should have had with him. The colonel or major Kazanli, famous for his cruelties and his cowardice did not want first to receive us and he insisted that it was necessary to turn us over to Pruzany. He subjected himself to authority of our officer who submitted to him a detailed report and the colonel allowed us to enter the prison of Volkovysk while waiting for our papers to arrive.
We remained five days in this prison. I met many friends there, fellows from my school, then the abbot Ciotkiewicz, who had baptised me and then, in prison, one makes friends quickly. The men sympathize better in misfortune. Someone sent food from the city to us. While we were discussing with the abbot Kostowski many subjects time passed even more agreeably. We spent one Sunday in Volkovysk and that day had an aspect of cheerfulness that had its charm. It was a mass on Sunday led by the abbot Taraszewicz, the priest of Swislocz, a priest of great value. With some problems we could obtain two horse-drawn carriages. As a result authorities did not make us set out again on foot, without regard to the age or the precarious state of health of Wielowiejski. In Volkovysk another prisoner joined our group: he was a soldier who had taken part in the Insurrection. His first name was Stanislaw; I regret that I have forgotten his last name but thereafter, he became my fellow traveller as far as Siberia. We were supervised by a new detachment of infantry led by an officer of the army of the Caucasus that was to take us along to Grodno. We had to suffer from the temperature; it rained without break, the wheels were submerged in mud, the horses fell and, moreover, we were soaked to the bones. The officer, entirely wrapped in a large coat, having his feet in long boots, a cap on the head, did a lot of mileage on foot. He said to us pointed out the steps which he had made formerly in the Caucasus, during fifteen years of his service. I did not want to follow his steps and because the road was tedious, I preferred to remain in the carriage. We travelled three days before arriving to Grodno. We rather agreeably spent the first night in the castle of Werejki. The officer decided to go there not so that we were more at ease, but because he knew well that there, he could find good food and with drinking, which for him was the main thing. I was happy of being able, finally, to dry myself and sleep a little. Wielowiejski, a great admirer of Chopin, had the joy of discovering a piano not too much deteriorated on which he played works of Chopin all the evening. For several months, he had not been able to do it. We spent the second night in Judav, where Stanislaw Radowicki joined us, owner from Volkovysk. He had been stopped suddenly and taken along immediately to Grodno by gendarmes. I had seen him on Sunday in Volkovysk during the visit with the prisoners. He appeared then of excellent mood and was far from suspecting that he was going to be stopped, and that he would have to pass a long time isolated in a prison and then he would be set off to Siberia. The gendarmes prevented us from speaking to him. In approaching Grodno, we stopped at the gates of the city, so that the soldiers who escorted us could polish their uniforms. At that place, we passed a young woman whose face expressed the pain. She returned from Grodno and was a wife of some innocent victim. In passing close to us, she threw at us a glance full of sadness and blessed separately each one of us. We took off our caps thus thanking her for sound expression of sympathy and the officer pretended not noticing anything.
Grodno! O, dear Grodno! How much time I contemplated with joy the brilliant cupolas of your churches when I left or returned from holidays! Today, this city that I saw lost in the fog, in sad weather and rainy was well worth the image of my dubious future. This spectacle still fills me with sadness. And then what we had learned in the prisons of Grodno was hardly comforting. We knew that authorities put the prisoners not only in the prison but also in convents, and a place called "castle of summer". Anyone sent in this last place was the least sorry, because the stay was more tolerable there. There, the people of the city could go to see the prisoners, an advantage of that the other prisoners of Grodno did not enjoy.
It was on April 10, 1864. It was 10 a.m. in the morning when we entered the city of Grodno; we advanced step by step. The clouds had been dissipated and the sun promised a beautiful day. We crossed Niemen on a ferry, and soon we were on the central square. From there, we took the street of Brigidska in the medium of which we stopped in front of the house of the military commander. Our officer entered there and as for us, it was necessary to wait two long hours, surrounded by our soldiers, for the return of the officer. During this time, I passed some people whom I recognised and greeted. Some unknown women asked us who we were by asking us some questions prudently and in haste. Then they moved away to great us from the distance. When the officer reappeared, he beckoned to us to turn over on our feet, i.e. to return towards the central square. It was there that our fate was going to be decided, because according to the prison where we were going to be sent, we could conclude our degree of culpability. Knowing Grodno, I immediately understood that authorities carried out us towards the prison of the city. That did not announce anything good.
At once we arrived in front of the gate of the prison, the officer ordered to get out of carriage, guards seized our luggage and the gate was closed again behind us. I was in a long and obscure part of the prison with two gates. I noticed the outlines of the prisoners curious to know who were the newcomers and the others were a staff in waiting room. Leaving this part of the building, I saw a large court at the other end of which rose a large surmounted building with latticed windows. Arrived in the court, we turned right. I threw a glance around me. I was soon in the center of a large court, surrounded by three sides by an immense wall. With right-hand side, the wall was replaced by a useful building of three floors. I learned later that it was a secret prison. There were also the rooms of Commissions and kitchens. These buildings had belonged formerly to a convent of Jesuits. Everything remained as before, except the windows on which administration had nailed boards. Thus, occupants refused the poor captive even a sunbeam. Above the gate of the prison, there was also a stage. More than ten people walked then in the court. The soldiers assembled guards. Finally, authorities brought us to the building on right-hand side and after many peregrinations through corridors and staircases, guards inserted us into a dirty room where our luggage were deposited. Then, someone made us attend the room where officers were occupied deliberating on a case that was to be judged "ipso facto" and we attended the discussion. Here what it was about - an orthodox deacon, already an old man, had taken part in the Insurrection, providing food to the insurrectionists, visiting camps... etc. There were present some peasants with sad figures, with the low head, looking at the floor. It was obvious that they were forced to soak their hands hardened by honest work in the mean actions of this business. The officers excited that the deacon was still speaking, said to him that he would be rewarded and that he could celebrate with dignity the Easter which approached. The poor noble one denied all the facts with which he was faced. One of accusers was seen that he had liked to coil the deacon with blows, he would strangle the arrested if he had been free of his movements. He showed the rage on his face. I do not know how the business had finished because the case was postponed for later and the officers dealt with us. First of all, an officer examined our luggage, removing many items considered offensive: in fact between reading materials he left only our prayer books. I was glad that he left all my needles. We were not to have more than three roubles and I had some more than fifty. The officer who was in charge of the revision did know about my tricks without suspecting it. Before leaving Pruzany, for more safety, making sure that we were not left without any money, I had bent all my roubles in different pockets of my wallet. I had cared to leave only a few roubles in obvious part of it. This trick was successful. Unfortunately, the pencils and paper were removed.
During the revision of our luggage, colonel informed Ostrug about our arrival, hastened us to run. Ostrug was a president of the Board of Inquiry. While passing close to me, he asked me whether I were Doctor Okinczyc and disappeared in the other room. Afterwards, he gave the command to put us in the secret prison, which was carried out immediately. We were locked up separately one from each other. As far as me, I was locked up on the ground floor in a rather large room of which the three-quarters were encumbered. There was a bed of camp height, a table, large fenestrate placed very high but latticed. The walls were very wet and had certainly not been whitened again since the departure of the Jesuits; they were covered with inscriptions of all kinds. On the dirty floor under the window, I discovered a heap D of yellow sand: I do not know for which use it was intended. The ceiling gave reluctant feeling and a gate with a vista completed my barrack room. While inspecting my prison, it seemed to me that I found myself in a cellar, so much the air was repugnant and wet. My first thought was to open the window. I taken my bag and placed it on the sand heap, then I still added to it a box which was useful to me in travel to keep my food and I climbed up, I reached the window. I managed to open it and sitting on the edge to take a little air. It helped me not to plunge again into my sad thoughts. Soon, I saw from there my uncle Felix, an old man with white beard, who could see me while passing under my window. He greeted me with a sign of head and tears rolled from his eyes. Later, I met also the abbot Aurélien Mackiewicz, Golanski, a gardener, who worked for marshal Sawykowski of Pruzany and some others. The court was filled with prisoners walking in all the directions. There were some women, the priests, men of all classes and various costumes. This unit made a group of a very particular kind. I envied their happiness of being able to walk outside. The pleasure of looking in the court did not last too long. The guards inquired from me why I opened the window. I quickly answered to them that I had opened the window with the intention to ask for water because I was dying from thirst. They believed me and allowed me leave the window open. I understood that they could take away the option of opening the window any time, which would be to me a great deprivation. I was accustomed already a little to the prisons, however when I lived myself alone for the first time between my four walls, I suffered cruelly. I suffered even more because during the last weeks of my stay in Pruzany, I had been so free. And then during the voyage from Pruzany to Grodno, I had breathed the air with full lungs. Therefore this sudden change was felt more depraving for me. Finally, I had made dark conclusions about my future release because I was locked up in the secret prison.
I forgot to mention that while I was looking out through the window, some of the prisoners made me understand that tea would be sent to me. They also made to me other signs that I tried to understand. Soon after, the key squeaked in the lock, the gate opened and a soldier brought a great quantity of tea and two breads to me. I did not want all of it to eat and tried to give some of it back to the soldier when while breaking bread mouthful, the bread got half-opened and I saw a paper and a small end of pencil. I kept the breads and made the soldier leaving my cell empty-handed. Knowing all the tricks in the prison of Pruzany, I continued to learn well new tricks in Grodno. I benefited from this first lesson and I proved to my colleagues that it was worth it. My uncle had written the small note. In these small letters, he informed me to be very firm, very tough during the interrogation. Moreover he warned me about that colonel Finkow, dishonest man, who was the President of the Council of War and he then asked me to tell him where was my lawsuit and, finally, gave me more news about himself. On the same paper that he had written his words, I answered without losing one minute. Then, having taken breadcrumb, I surrounded the same paper by making a pellet and I awaited for favourable moment to throw it through my window. I did not have to wait a long time: a prisoner whom I knew passed precisely nearby. Benefiting from the moment when the soldier who went and came under my window had the back turned towards me, I launched the pellet that was collected in a wink and was hidden in the pocket of the prisoner. I closed again my window, I explored my cell in all its content, I spread my clothing on the desired shelf and I went to rest a little. It was impossible for me to sleep. Thousand thoughts rolled in my head. I wondered what I was going to become and what my fate would be. Why the authorities had locked me up in the secret prison? Why they made me come to the cell so abruptly, a thing that those authorities did not make for others? All that made me agitated in turn and the horizon seemed to me quite black. I rose, I walked, I laid down myself again during these few hours and my thoughts referred towards me, towards those which I certainly had just left for always and I cried. All-with blow, I intended to open my gate. A soldier entered, bringing to me my dinner in a ground basin and a wood spoon of Russian style. I tried to find out what this dish contained. There were balls, I believe, made up of buckwheat hulled grain not scaled and mixed with small pieces of meat. I tasted some by curiosity, but it was impossible for me to swallow it a mouthful because of the scales, which were put in my teeth: fortunately I did not feel any hunger.
The night arrived and no light was given to me. O, that the night appeared long to me! About the morning, I had fallen in sleep a little. Afterwards, in midday, the authorities made me come to the Board of Inquiry. They sent for me a gendarme. We entered initially a room where two individuals curved over one table and were occupied writing. One of them told to me to wait there. At the end of half an hour, the gate of the close office opened and colonel Finkow, fat and large with short hair and sideburns, beckoned to me to enter. I obeyed and found myself in a low-size room, longer than wide, rather obscure, having one only window. In the medium, there was a table covered with a green carpet, encumbered with files, around, chairs and the portrait of the Tsar on the wall. I went therefore to appear before my judges. In addition to the colonel, I saw some officers in uniforms of uhlans; all were with white nozzles without moustache.
Nobody asked me to sit down; the colonel measured me from feet to the head with an expression so malicious that he seemed ready to devour me.
The Russians call upon beginning of each investigation with a stupid habit that consists asking if a charged does not have anything to say against the Members of the Commission that must judge him. Misfortune waited anyone among us who had dared to express anything against anyone from them! Anyway, the members who composed these Commissions were sometimes so unworthy that it would be difficult to select anyone above the others: all were equally animals, cowards and prejudiced against us. What criteria anyone could use to select a good person over others? I came to the conclusion that I did not draw aside any of them. Then, one of the members made me read aloud all recorded interrogation against me in Pruzany. When I finished, the colonel recited a speech inviting me to acknowledge all my wrongs sincerely. He tired to convince me much, because he spoke a long time, repeating more than ten times the same thing. At the end, he made me write "yes" or "not" to confirm my proceeding consents and he asked me if I had anything to add. While answering that, not only I did not add anything, but also I sought to excuse me from the delicate questions that worsened my case. Actually, that was not useful for me, what I found later. At the time it was necessary for me to hear a second time the speech of the colonel in all points similar to the first one. After final question that I was asked, I declared firmly that I did not have anything to add to what I had written previously. The Commission allowed me to go away. They made me to leave the secret prison; I was far from doubting that I would leave from there so quickly. Comforted, I settled at once in the barrack room where was my uncle Felix. It was a long, dirty building with a window facing the gate of the prison, the building located in the middle of the court. Along a partition, there were enormous beds, kinds of shelves on which there were held more than ten people, one beside the other. Although prisoners were tightly packed each beside the other, they made a place for me. I had remained so long time in prisons that I was feeling quite comfortable. It is good that when a man is subjected initially to hard tests, then, the little improvement in his fate is for him a true joy.
The first days passed in listening to accounts of Pruzany, to find friends and inhabitants from my district, to join them and gain new knowledge about events and to get news about them. There were then nearly 400 people in prison. Soldiers locked up us for the night. During day, we could freely move around, to visit each other and to walk together in the court. I remained there until May 15. Friends sent food to us from the city; therefore as from midday, we gathered along the gate in order to see some friends at the time when the gate would open. The most favourable moment was when the guards brought a water barrel to the prison. The gate, then, had to be opened with two leaves and a mass of friendly people came and gathered in front of the prison so we could see them. It was hardly that we had time, sometimes, to greet them: however, it was all our pleasure. We could correspond with people from the city and the other prisoners, thanks to some gendarmes or to some soldiers who helped their weak wages. The keys of the gate of the prison were kept, each day, by a different warrant officer who had the command to examine whoever entered the prison, and to control the objects that one brought to us. All, fortunately, were not very faithful to the instruction that commanders had given them. Some, while controlling food, granted a good share of it to themselves, however, we could not feel sorry for us. Many prisoners passed the written words, through the gate, wrapped, of course, in a handkerchief or a towel in which the friend from the outside passed back a little tobacco or some oranges. It was more difficult for us to correspond with the prisoners in secrecy. I invented many new tricks, and we had still used of other means. We made them send many things in food, even money hidden in butter. We managed, sometimes, to go and see the prisoners in the secrecy, but at the price and with difficulties and, moreover, that cost us too much. We had among us a certain Dziegelewski, a former soldier, still young person, who, very skilfully, managed to see the prisoners in the secrecy. As for me, I dealt exclusively with comrades from my district; once, 44 arrived from there and authorities put several of them in the secret prison. Each day at 4 o'clock in morning, I received letters that were intended to them and my daily task was to forward to them these letters and to receive the answers from them. It is necessary me to tell here which means we employed to see the people from the city. On the third floor, beside the secret prison, there were still rooms occupied by our other prisoners. The latticed windows facing a neighbouring court surrounded by buildings having also belonged to the Jesuits and to the church parochial. On the bottom floor, the organist lived and while going to his place, someone could penetrate this court. While placing oneself at the angle of the wall, one was below our windows. From there, while raising the voice a little, while even shouting, we were able to get in touch with the people of the city or to throw letters to them. Unfortunately, we did not benefit a long time from this means: somebody was spying between us and he contributed to stopping our talks. In the secret prison, there were certain windows on which administration had not nailed boards, therefore some of those which were loose let the prisoners to pass their heads through the grids and to exchange some words with us. But that was achieved with a great difficulty, because in front of their windows, day and night, the soldiers assembled the guard and they were not allowed approaching us. In order to cure the problem, we projected to plant trees in the court under pretext of killing time. We had among us an excellent gardener Golanski, we suggested transforming the courtyard into gardens with bushes and flowers. The Russians agreed to it and authorised us to do it. Work started, lasting from the morning to the evening, and there were not even one among us who did not join the work. In time of the Jesuits, there were gardens in the place of our jail. They did not exist any more, then, except a very old and very large white lilac which, until there had been the only ornament of the court. We tended gardens. We decorated them with banks of boards. Although we tried to work usefully, our life was quite monotonous. When festivals of Easter arrived, our sadness increased more with the memories that they brought back. The monotony of our existence was sometimes broken by the arrival of new prisoners and the departure some others to Russia or Siberia.
Nobody was relaxed during my stay in prison. And there is nothing astonishing as far as charges, because Russians did not judge on the facts, but on the testimony of other people. It was enough that one made his studies at the university or that one defended oneself firmly and with presence of mind to be condemned at once to be offset to Siberia and even to the mines. At the Board of Inquiry, the logic behind was as known as more less the following: "You finished your studies at the university; you are thus an educated man and it is impossible that you did not take part in the Insurrection". On this argument basis, they condemned many wrongly and through. I remember a student of the University of Kiev who was most innocent. His fate was terrible. The judges were obviously prejudiced against him and by condemning him so wrongfully, they obeyed a given command. It seems that the Russians, believing that the district of Kiev was completely Russianized. Contrary to this believes this district was one of the most active in the Insurrection. Realising that they were misled in their forecasts, they avenged thus on the unhappy students. As for the way in which condemned prisoner was offset to Siberia, I will speak about it by quoting myself. For those who were condemned to be hung, all was done in the greatest secrecy and generally during the night. The Russians had shame or feared some noisy demonstration? Was this in the Russian ways or were they so kind as to make suffer the poor victim more?
Wanting to know what had been a judgement for me by the Council of War, I went to see the clerk and for two roubles, I bought the sad news: I had to wait day in day for my departure. A few days afterwards, I was called so that my description was taken and the following day I passed the medical examination. The guard made me strip all like at the front of the Draft Board or during sale of a slave. He and someone else examined me on all sides; he looked at the teeth, etc. On the chest, I still had recent marks of wounds; I had an obstinate cough and, moreover, varicose on the legs. All that was not useful to me and I was declared well being. The young doctor who had examined me, German and good man as I had later the proof, wanted to plead in my favour. But Finkow who was present prevented, insisting and intimidated him by saying that I would be examined later and that if the results will be positive, it is him who would be punished.
After all these preliminaries, I end up in front of the Council of War in order to hear my judgment. It was Finkow who, upright close to the gate, pointed out the words exactly. "By the Council Decision of War in Grodno, composed of such and such, to have taken share in the fight, being involved voluntarily and maintained the relations with the Central Committee of Warsaw, according to such and such article of the Penal code, the defendant belongs to the second category. In the first category prisoners were condemned to die. The defendant loses all his rights and personal prerogatives and, according to his social position, he also loses all the privileges of the nobility, right to any heritage for the present and the future. With the approval of the governor of Grodno (here came all his titles), the defendant has his sorrow commuted to twelve years of work in the mines. After this, there cannot be any recourse". Finkow read slowly, accentuating each word. He unceasingly raised the eyes on me, seeking to strike me by these terrible words. Only this detail shows the cruelty of this man for whom the misfortune of the others was a true pleasure.
I knew in advance with what I was condemned, as I told higher. However, despite everything, I did not believe in it as much as I did not want to hear it from mouths of my judges. I still had at the bottom of myself a weak gleam of hope. The effect of the reading of my judgement had been dreadful. I had noticed shining in the eyes of my enemy with the joy. The judges enjoyed the sight of my despair. I gathered all my forces, all my energy to hide what I felt; I made an effort to even appear indifferent to all that I heard. I had even the strenght to smile in a way that could seem natural. Thanks to my courage, my torturer did not gain the joy. I triggered at once his fury, he became crimson from anger and, showing me the gate, with the rage in the heart, he exclaimed, "Get out!" - words worthy of an employee of the Russian Empire. From this moment, I became always ready to leave; I knew that it might happen at any hour, I could receive the command to leave the prison of Grodno. I also hastened to finish some urgent businesses. I had written from Grodno several times to my parents; I sent my letters through hiding-place. I wrote a letter of good-bye then to them; I still did not ask them to come, because I knew that it would be for them such sad spectacle with so many good-byes! I feared for them for their emotions.
I knew that all were condemned to work in the mines and those of ready to leave were stripped from clothing and linen which they had. I had fortunately some warrant officers and soldiers whom I had gained with the money. They were obliged to me to be useful for all the secret correspondences with which I was charged. Through them, I managed to give my clothing and my linen to friends from the city. They committed themselves with giving these things to my parents. The poor Mrs Ostromecka who was condemned only to the deportation, was hoping that she could preserve her clothing. Unfortunately, she was also stripped of all and the Russians had even the audacity to tear off padded clothing from her which she wore and in which she had bent all her money. The poor already old woman with a very delicate health had to suffer, as a result of the lack of clothing. She was a woman of a great nobleness in her heart and much of merits. Before dispatching us, a barber shaved us completely, the beard and the hair. He left us only the moustache. To avoid this painful drudgery, I did the work myself. This changed me so much that my best friends could not recognise me more. Fearing not to be recognized by the people from the city at the time of my departure, which were to come to tell me good-bye, I warned them that I would carry glasses. I thought later that these glasses could be used by me to obtain some money by selling them. This object was not removed from us. By giving money to the clerk, I learned soon that I was to be dispatched on May 14, i.e. the following day, at 4 o'clock in the morning. I informed immediately my friends from the city and I prepared immediately myself for the departure.
The last day of my stay in Grodno I still remember with a sorrow. Since for some time, I lived in a bigger and more convenient barrack room. The company was very selected there. In addition to my uncle Felix, I had with me two young doctors, one Nuskowski from Warsaw and the other was Jules Birfriend, one of my colleagues from the University of Moscow. We were good friends. That day, we were joined together all three, plus a fourth who lived with us, called Count Witold Watowicz. We gathered together while completing a small bottle of cognac that, by chance, had reached us. We were of good mood, forgetting for a moment about the separation in the following day. Suddenly, a gendarme appeared, saying to us that Birfriend was to appear before the Board of Inquiry. This news was always quite worrying. Birfriend had hardly enough time to remove his pockets with suspicious objects. He gave me his wallet containing the correspondence of the prisoners between them and followed the gendarme. With sorrow we saw him one hour later through the window of the secret prison. We could nothing learn from what had happened and, by gestures, I bade my farewell. However, I failed to be noticed. Later, when I was in Siberia, I learned that he had been condemned like me to twelve years of work in mines and he was in Tobolsk. I never met him again. I spent my last night in arranging certain objects and packing some shirts that I hoped to be able to carry with me. I still had about thirty roubles that I managed to hide. I had fallen in sleep for hardly few hours, when gendarme Leonow, known man without spite by all awaked me. I had to follow him immediately and went down to one room at the ground floor. There, I found a civil employee who held in the hand the list of the names of all those who were to leave the very same day. There were still there soldiers and two officers of whom one had the command over us. We had to wear the clothing given by the tsar. On that day, fifteen men and only one woman (Mrs Ostromecka) were to leave the prison. I was one of them. We were almost all from different prisons so that we knew each other only a little. Soon, we all were gathered and the gendarme locked up us between two gates in a kind of passage and he called us each one after another. Not to waste time, he lined us up to shave and to cut the hair. When my turn arrived, due to avoid this horrible clothing, I left my small luggage between the hands of a comrade who had already passed through this sad ceremony and I moved away with naked head, having on me a very ordinary cotton costume. I hoped that oppressors would not desire to torture me. But I had been mistaken: they tore off all clothing from me. It hardly believed what I obtained from them. It was left to me old and worn linen that I had to put on and that was done purposely. I wished that they did not touch me with linen, because all my small capital was stuck to my skin and I hoped that the Russians did not find it. They left me also my boots. Then, one of them covered me with Russian style shirt, the same Russian trousers with a very special cut and whose no European tailor can have any idea. The trousers were retained with the size by a slide of tie up. All clothing was of the same size and naturally, no attention was paid if they suited us or not. Moreover, I received the second shirt and the other trousers and finally a pair of shoes called "koty", I do not know why. I received also a bag. Then, they gave me a wholesale grey cloth with the height up to the knees with a seal on the top of the back. This clothing was not double that no one could even guarantee that it could prevent against cold. Finally I received the same cap packs, without visor. When we all were thus equipped, someone once again started again to make the call. For to be certain that we were present and not trusting only at their eyes, the Russians while counting us came to touch us with the finger over the chest, with the arm or with the head. Thus, they were sure that we exist. We were sixteen. Then, guards connected us four by four by the hands according to the social position, prisoners from lower class were shackled together, and the prisoners from higher position were also shackled together. I never could understand why, since any privilege was removed from us by their judgement, they still made a difference between the noble one and the churl. Only Russian logic could perhaps answer that! It could be five hours of the morning when the gates giving on the court opened and the authorities let us leave in front of convoy troops prepared for this purpose. We did not have time or the possibility of saying good-bye to our comrades from the prison. Guards hastily tighten the hand of those who were closer to us, and made a sign of head to those who were further. We left at once. It is impossible to define the impression and the feeling that we experienced after being locked up for a long time between the four walls of a prison, that we found with the free air, between free men from whom we were however separated by an alive barrier, formed by the soldiers of the convoy. Even in the similar conditions, man tastes a little happiness to breathe freely and to see a distant horizon. Among the people of the city whom I had been able to become friendly, I saw, with my great joy the friendly ladies and others. I saw my aunt Felix, my sister-in-law, a wife of Wladyslaw, Mrs Alexandre Bummel, Léocadie Lubkiewicz, Mrs Victor Abramowicz and some others which came to tell me good-bye. First of all, the soldiers did not allow them to approach us, but at the end, on the request of our friends, the officer allowed to shake the hand with them. This dreadful moment will remain always engraved in my memory. I had not wanted to encounter my parents. I did not want any more to break the heart by such a cruel spectacle! Having warned only distant relatives and friends, I thought that these good-byes would be less painful. But I had been mistaken. I experienced so much affection. Sincere tears run from their eyes, their features expressing a so poignant pain. All these glances, this moving silence, these tender pressures made me see and smell my complete insulation, my abandonment was dreadful. Today I do not know any more, for the most part what you became, my precious, and God alone knows if it will be allowed to me to meet you again, to contemplate your dear features. So only these some lines which I write could arrive to you and to prove to you how much your memory is important to me and what a deep recognition I have for you all, you who in one supreme moment told me a last good-bye.
Though we are in May, the morning was very fresh and I was cold, more especially as my clothing was made of light fabric and that I did not manage to button it. Moreover, I did not have anything to put around my neck. This did not escape your far-sighted eyes, you my very precious. Ah, how much it was useful to me, this black wool bordered of purple that Madam Bummel withdrew from her head and put it on my shoulders! I regret being obliged to separate myself from this dear memory. I gave it one day to Madam Ostromecka, my second mother. It remained between her hands.
Let’s return to the time of the departure: my aunt gave me a few roubles then; each one gave me a small present. We walked together through some streets, to the street Polna, close to the station of the railroad. There, we had to be separated and I could see by far, at the edge of the road their signs of good-bye and the handkerchiefs that they agitated. I was held then on the platform of the train: I saw them; my heart would have liked to go towards the parents, the friends, but, alas! I could not any more. I resigned to dreaming: slavery, Siberia, the mines, the loss of all that I had moreover valued so much. All that tortured my spirit and tore my heart. I did not realize any more time; I remained upright. Fixed eyes, looking in front of me and not seeing anything, because my tortured spirit full of pain wandered in thoughts, stopping with darkest, the most painful images.
Suddenly resounded the signal of the departure. We entered into the coaches and a few moments afterwards, Grodno had disappeared from our eyes. We moved towards Wilno.
Wilno was located from Grodno about 201 versts (route measurement used in Russia and 1 verst correspondent with 1 km 066 m). Only the simple soldiers escorted us and we were happy. The soldiers of Russia are not malicious and if someone wants to give them some money or to offer them some objects, at once they all want these little bribes, even with the risk to compromise themselves. We had already crossed some stations when some officers entered into our coach. We were obliged to hear quite painful conversations for us. Besides that, nothing interesting happened during the way of a few hours which separated Grodno from Wilno, except that a German woman did not want that we pay her for the modest lunch that she gave us and that had been useful to us. We approached Wilno, the capital of so famous Lithuania formerly and which has so many historical buildings. The city of Wilno is precious and famous for its miraculous image of the Virgin of Ostra Brama towards which so many generations came to request and draw blessings. Today, in approaching this venerated place, only sad thoughts crossed my spirit: is not this then the place of stay of our mortal enemy, the persecutor of Lithuania, and a satrap, Muravieff. It is in this city he ran the blood of our martyrs for freedom; it is there that were signed so many decrees condemning ours to death, by hundreds, and with work in the mines of Siberia per thousands. At that time, there were in Wilno more than ten prisons and all were full up to roofs. Authorities placed us in the n°8, if I remember well, except for Mrs Ostromecka, who was taken along in the prison reserved to the women. To arrive to our prison, we had to walk more than one kilometer, through repugnant mud, bearing our bundles on our shoulders. For us, still acceptable, but for poor Mrs Ostromecka with the immense and heavy clothing that trailed in mud was too much, although we took her luggage. When we arrived at the gate of the prison, the call was made. I feared that someone snitched on us, because I was surprised that many things were confiscated from me which I had succeeded in carrying from Grodno. For the most part they were the memories or the objects that my mother had given me during my stay in prison: some objects coming from the house. And then, I had a few tens of roubles that were bent in my clothing, which was not done very carefully. By one fortunate coincidence, part of it was not discovered, there or nowhere until my arrival to Tomsk. Then, I have to say "by chance", because those of my comrades who came by stages from the governments of the South, Kiev, the White Russia or government of Minsk, all were pitilessly stripped of all, not only their books, money, knives, etc. but even their private pipes and their tobacco.
In Wilno, our prison was as dirty as those that we had already inhabited were. We found it filled with prisoners and with some difficulties we could deposit our luggage and find a little rest; naturally, we slept on naked boards. Each barrack room had some straw mattresses, but they were so old, disgusting, and although for long months, we were accustomed to the dirtiness of the Russian prisons, it was impossible for us to make use of it. We used our ridiculously short clothing as bed linen and our bag as a pillow for our head. In spite of the enormous number of prisoners, we intended to remain in Wilno for a few days. I met there one of my former comrades, Michal Polkowski who, being took part in the insurrection against the government of Minsk, there was taken, condemned and arrived at foot to Wilno. I was separated from Mrs Ostromecka, although I was unaware if we were not separate forever. Among those who were with me, I knew no one before. But in prison, one makes friends quickly.
We remained nearly one week in Wilno and I had already made a number of friends. Initially, I bound with Polkowski, then with Etienne Wyganowski, Konstanty Wroblewski, captain Czyryk, etc. A few days after our arrival in Wilno, a new convoy brought my uncle Felix and some others with him. They were brought to our prison and crowd was so dense that, in the corridors, one could pass only from one place to other with difficulties, so many prisoners slept there. Youth is always youth and being thus joined together, we even managed to brighten the old men. The days were not wasted. We spent time on getting known newcomers, to seek among them a relative, a friend. Then, we shared all the meals that the city sent to us. Wroblewski, who knew many people in Wilno, was for us a great help. In evenings, when our barrack rooms were closed with key, we lighted a samovar, we shared the tea, we sang. And then gatherings ended in a joint prayer. A good expert was found to repeat our songs, but if the right note was missed sometimes, the feelings made us vibrate, especially when a melody referred to the family, the fatherland was so true, so strong, so powerful! Someone could guess by these songs that painful wounds open our hearts. He could feel that we were all unhappy victims. Generally, I remember only the beginning of the melody:
"Know you this country where on the edge of the brook
grows the forgets-me-not and sorbs... etc."
Afterwards each stanza, we repeated the refrain:
"I cry and I sigh
after this dear country
as after a paradise.
Happy, I will not be able to say
when one day I will see again
this country, these harvests!"
My poor old uncle cried with tears by hearing this song. In spite of his advanced age, he had nearly 60 years, oppressors had him condemned to be offset to Siberia, to Tobolsk. He could not hope even any more to return one day to this cherished soil, this country for which he had already suffered in 1831 (prisoner in Minsk) and for which he still had been so devoted. He left over there a woman and a girl who, after the last events, were without any resource to survive. There thus did not remain to him more any hope to return to his fatherland, considering his age and his infirmities. He even doubted to be able to arrive at destination. He asked whether his health would make it possible to face such a long voyage and so long distance through Siberia. In our prison, there was a catholic vault: one day, we could attend a mass. Thanks to this circumstance, I foresaw Mrs Ostromecka: she told me that her prison was still worse than ours. Then she indicated to me, in a few words, the means of seeing her and I was not long in making it possible.
The meals were prepared in our prison and from here prisoners carried it to the other buildings escorted by soldiers. When someone wished to see someone else, one could with the help of some bribed soldiers obtain the permission to hold one of the ends of an enormous stick with the medium of which was balanced a wood tank filled of soup of a doubtful odor. In this way, one could move to the other prisons and discuss a little for fifteen minutes.
Mrs Ostromecka was in a repugnant prison. Company was horrible, because there were not only political prisoners, but of all categories and these dominated. A brave man, Pasteur protested. I forgot his first name. He was from Wilno and he acted when he learned about his daughter fate from Mrs Ostromecka (who belonged to the same religion). She gave him the things more useful then affection, clothing, bed linen and some prayer books. Without this providential chance, he would not have had in what to dress and would have had nothing to rest his head. As for me, I bought also various objects in a shop of Jew who was in the court. Anyone could find there many things, except the censored objects. I thus bought a cap, made of the fabric from which I made myself two enormous pockets that I packed with my clothing. Later, when I had a little more money, I allowed such a luxury that I made a costume with folds behind, collar right, attached with hooks and decorated fur. But this happened in Tobolsk.
During our stay in Wilno, the day of the visit came, day blessed between all. For me, I was delighted only little, not hoping to see friends. However, I had soon the joy of seeing seven people who came to visit me. The people from the outside were obliged, before entering the prison, of saying the name of the prisoner whom they wished to see. However here how the things occurred. Thanks to someone's boldness, a brave lame Polish came each day to the prison. He took care in hiding of all our correspondence (it is by him that I sent my first letter to my parents and to the uncle Theophilus by the post office) and helped many others. He knew many people in Wilno. Therefore, he hastened to spread among them the last and first names of all prisoners. Our names were said from mouth to mouth until one of them met a known name to him, he run, said the last and first name in all safety and was at once allowed to enter the prison. The visits took place under the eyes of an officer and some soldiers, but we could, in spite of that, to talk freely and even some brought gifts to us. The first person who visit me was Miss Birfriend, the sister of my comrade about whom I already spoke. I did not know her at all. By her brother, she had learned that we had been comrades, and knowing that I arrived to Grodno where I had not been for a long time. She wanted that I give her news about her brother and her grandmother. I satisfied her in all points, however I hid some details that I considered unnecessarily. Since the beginning of the Insurrection, the poor girl had not had any news of him. I was happy to meet the sister of a friend. Then, I had the visit of the two young ladies Andruszkiewicz, whom I did not know either. They were the two sisters of Miss Victoire Andruszkiewicz (today a wife of Vladimir Wyczolkowski) who was then the teacher of my sisters. They knew my name and came to bring two boxes of cigars and some drill plates padded to put on my chest. I shared all these with my comrades of barrack room. It was a use to give something to the prisoner whom one came to see. Thus Miss Birfriend gave me also tea, sugar, but what pleased me the most was a pair of wool cuffs, which she made with her hands, asking me to accept them to remember her. Mrs Pawlowicz visited me, the German cousin of my father, as my uncle Felix knew her very well. The poor old man was very happy to see her. She brought with her some other young and even very pretty ladies. This day of visit was happy one, more especially as I expected not to see anybody.
On May 22, a commandant let us know that we were going to set out in the morning. Hardly we had any time to swallow a little tea. Guards gave us the command to leave our barrack rooms and to gather in the court with our luggage. They closed at once the gates of our prisons so that we could not return there. We believed to start a trip by the train, but this was not the case! We remained in the court under a hot sun up to four hours in the afternoon. So much long the preliminary starting ceremonies lasted. The prisoners who were not to leave with us all had been locked up with key. Administration allowed only the women and the children come out from the prisoners, so that they left with us. Mrs Ostromecka was brought in her turn. We went therefore to be again joined together. Heat was so strong that many among us drank too much water, which caused later several diseases of intestines that gave us a concern. About midday, some officers arrived sent to review all of us and to chain prisoners as well as it was in Grodno. They put these chains for the road. All these preparations lasted up to four hours. At the end, the carriages entered the court and we deposited the luggage there, some women and the children who were to be led to the station got on too. There were hundreds of prisoners and the luggage of those who prepared to live in Siberia were very numerous, our packages were quickly lost in the huge pile and we had a difficulty to find them later.
At the time of leaving the prison of Wilno, the government of this city assisted us. Few employees were asking us whether we did not have any complaints against employees of the prison so, henceforth, preventing the abuses, not only in the prisons of Wilno, but in all the other prisons where we had remained so far. All that took place only as a formality, because although a number of us complained, nobody gave any satisfaction to any among us. Authorities made promises that were never carried out. Thus, Mrs Ostromecka complained about the brutal way with which guards had stripped her of all that she had taken from Grodno. "What are you condemned?" someone asked the Polish governor. "A deportation to the government of Ienissei". Some among us complained about a General called Mikolziowski, who, although he did not have the right made prisoners shave half of the head and having put them in row, made fun of them in an outrageous way. Moreover, and although the Russian law was against it, he stripped them of all the money which they had. This money had been given to them after their judgment for the trip and, consequently, was considered like alimony made to the prisoners. The Russian law authorizes to receive and keep this money. To steal from the poor people, of whom all fortune consisted of a few roubles, to leave them without penny was an inhuman act and which required revenge. This money certainly remained in the pocket of the General who, having acted immorally, could not give these sums back to the government. And what the governor answered them? He declared to the prisoners that this money would be returned to them soon. That was limited to this promise, we had never received them. I can affirm the truth to these facts because, being in Tobolsk, we asked again and we received a negative answer.
When all prisoners were installed in the carriages, guards made us leave from the prison while counting us and touching us by the hand in order to make sure well that we existed. In front of the prison spread a large undeveloped yard, crossed by the road leaving the prison. As soon as we were outside, we saw that a hedge of uhlans on horses kept two sides of the road, some with the naked sword in the hand, the others with spades decorated with small flags. Soldiers made us to stand in row two by two, and, finally, we left. The uhlans prevented anyone from approaching us and more over anyone who advanced too close was wounded, especially in the narrow streets that we had to cross. Many inhabitants of Wilno and especially many women attended this sad procession heading to the station, each one of us took again his luggage and guards piled us up in coaches under the escort of soldiers and an officer. Then the train shook, carrying us to Dynabourg, Pskow and Petersbourg where we unloaded on the third day. In Wilno, the command had given us the money for our food: fifteen kopecks for the noble ones and ten kopecks for the others. To those who were condemned to the deportation, they gave sixteen and eight kopecks per child. Until the arrival to destination in the content of Siberia, I must say that no one gave us again money. On the way, when we had taken our meals, the train stopped longer at the station. T
