The epistolographic legacy of Sobieski is commonly known and valued. His letters were printed, read and reprinted constantly in the course of the last 200 years. His elaborate language, beautiful metaphors and the accuracy of assessments were admired. They are also a reflection of the king’s soul, his preferences and his ability to perceive the smallest of things. On the basis of a collection of letters from the Vienna expedition, addressed to Marie Casimire and published by Count Edward Raczyński, let us consider those of the king’s observations with a decidedly landscape-oriented nature.
The first dated letter, from the Reformed Franciscan monastery in Gliwice [n.d.], does not give any information, perhaps because the king was suffering from rheumatism, which spoiled his mood. The next one [Opava, 25 August], mentions the Raciborz castle belonging to Count Obersdorf, but the king’s attention was evidently caught by the ladies of the court and their card playing. He describes Racibórz very briefly: “The city here is very beautiful and easy to defend.” 27 August, he wrote from Prostkowo: “We rode through Opava, a city surely nice, populous, and neat […] the next day we had done about a mile and a half through beautiful country, but one particular [mountain] was very unpleasant [steep] and rocky […] The next day we went through the mountains for three miles, and then, having left the mountains, another mile over a straight and beautiful way to Olomouc.” Sobieski noted about the key stronghold in this part of Bohemia: “the city is larger than Opava, but the people not as polite: everything was very expensive, and they did not want to sell.” Additionally, the king was incensed by a noisy clock in the Main Square, even though it was an attraction of the city, especially when “figures spun around comme des maronettes before the clock struck the hour.” Letter IV [29 August, the village Modra near Brno], brings a warm opinion about the capital of Moravia: “the city is very beautiful and easy to defend, particularly the castle on the high mountain, a great fortress. As far as the land goes, there is no equal in the world. The soil is better than in Ukraine, the mountains are full of vineyards, which cover their houses like peaches. The fields are so densely covered that nobody has even seen anything like it.” The rest of the letter contains news from Vienna, because the breath of war was clearly perceptible near Brno. Further letters are filled with detailed messages on politics and war, and the king instructs his wife: “I write to you so extensively, My Heart, so that you can pass the information to others like the papers.” The pace of travel itself was more hurried, because the situation was pressing.
Further letters do not contain sightseeing reflections. The king looked on Lower Austria and the idyllic Wachau like a leader: the carts will not pass, because on the one hand, the roads are not completed, and on the other, the land is empty and the people are hungry.” The fact is that this was shortly after the Tatars and the Turk-supporting troops of Imre Thököly had gone through, which could not uplift the country’s civilisation. The surroundings of Vienna – “vile mountains and forests” – irritate him as a strategist, making troop movements difficult. Letter VIII was written from the Camaldolese monastery on Kahlenberg [12 November]. It concerned mainly the military and the king’s subordinates. The mountain, which had to take its toll on a man of his girth, he called a “vile mountain, covered with a great and thick forest, unpleasant and inaccessible.” Letter IX was written from the tent of the Vizier after the victory at Vienna, and obviously does not contain any landscape observations. The next letter was written from the Danube shore, in a camp on the Prešov Road. It was one of the main transit roads, known for ages thanks to the trade in wine and copper. It is a bitter letter, full of examples of villainy from the Emperor, the inhabitants of Vienna, German allies and foreign ambassadors, descriptions of “unheard of ingratitude.” Reading the letter one may wonder whether it wouldn’t have been a better idea, in an alliance with France, to observe the downfall of the Empire, and imagine the Emperor Leopold, turned into a eunuch, fanning someone with a huge fan for the rest of his life in Istanbul’s Topkapi palace.
In another letter, from the suburbs of Pressburg [Bratislava], Sobieski complains that he has not held a book in his hand since leaving Raciborz. The next letter contains only worries and disappointments. During his stay in Pressburg, he considered viewing the body of St John the Merciful, kept in the Bratislavian castle, worthy of his time. Further letters are dominated by a thrifty landlord – he writes about spoils of war, administers the property of the Vizier, describes the looting of the Turkish camp that he considered his spoils. His attention is caught by the Battle of Párkány, desertions, disease, insufficient supplies, and the ingratitude of the Empire. He complains about the maps of Hungary: “All the Hungarian [maps – translator’s note] are very bad, and it is impossible to get information from them; I have only one good one, and even that, where it comes to the borders of Poland, is not very precise. Buda is less than 100 miles from Styria; and closer to Krakow.” The lack of certain maps bothered the king, especially since he intended to winter his army in Hungary so as not to tire them, and to let his country avoid the strain of military requisitions. He writes several letters from Esztergom (which he calls Strzegom), presenting his plans to Marysieńska, and telling her about the fate – most often sad – of people she knows. The royal army took the Esztergom fortress after a three-day siege. Jan III writes about its crew, but about the city writes only that “the enemy had three mosques in it.” A few paragraphs later, he adds: “The church turned into a mosque was founded by St Adalbert, where he baptised King Stephen, the first Christian.” It is only the letter from 30 October which contains a broader description: “there are several very beautiful rarities here in Esztergom: first is the fact that the mountain upon which the castle stands is pure marble, of different colours, namely the red kind, like the ones in the chapels at the castle in Krakow. Second are the many uncounted water springs on the mountain, on St Simon and Jude’s, the frogs screamed, ribbit, ribbit, the way they do in May at home. The chapel in the castle is all marble, where the pagans have erected their mosque. We were there on the feast day of the Apostles, celebrated a mass and sang Tedeum Laudamus for the first time in 140 years. The marble altar of the Annunciation of the Virgin Mary is incredible and whole, only the faces are a little scratched, but the architecture et les mosaiques very peculiar.”
The conquered Buda made quite an impression on Jan III. “It is the most superior fortress of the Hungarian Kingdom, an archbishopric, a grand castle on a high rocky mountain, with the city down below around the castle. It was in Turkish hands for 140 years this past August. All the people here, knightly and frontier, once Polish like the Kodak fortress, around which continues battles took place, and if you squeezed a handful of the earth, blood would flow.” The subsequent letters are a list of surrendering cities and castles, which Turkish troops left on their own accord at the news of the approaching Sobieski’s army. In the letter from 5 November, he lets his wife know that the decision about the winter stay has been made; the Polish army has the territory from Košice to Transylvania. “The Duke of Lorraine, whose quarters are visible from here, will stay in the mining cities, where ore is mined, that is Schemnitz, Kremnitz, Altsol, Neysol; while we still have to go seven miles along the Turkish border […] from Szécsény we will go to Fiľakovo, and from past Košiceto Eperyes (Pressburg), where the army will receive their provisions.” The king considered wintering his army in a foreign country to avoid stripping the Commonwealth of resources, but he himself intended to return home earlier: “From there to Poland, if the snow that falls heavier in the mountains allows, there are two roads: one to Lubola, the other to Bardów and Makowica.” Before the Polish border was reached, however, Sobieski stopped in Szécsény, which made a positive impression on him: “The city is not large, built of stone, beautiful, in full Turkish manner that we have not seen before, there are two mosques; as well as many towers and decorative frills; we found the fortress in very good shape, les palisade duble, a moat, murals, des crossem tour, uno flanc fort Bien Pescare cela sur une eminence. Twenty or so cannons, 560 of cavalry.” The description of the storming of the fortress is one of the more beautiful in Old Polish literature, a pearl of royal narration. Successes are interwoven with everyday marching hardships: “we have a lot of trouble with thick rivers, mountains and mud.” But they marched on. In a letter dated 19 November from Rimavská Sobota, the king wrote: “yesterday we passed Fiľakovo, which was destroyed last year by the Turks. From here, they say Košice is about twelve Hungarian miles, and then from there on to Eperies [Prešov] another six miles. These letters are sent to Roznau [Rozniava] and then to Stará Ľubovňa.” But the king’s mood was significantly better: “We have had, by God’s grace, beautiful weather for a few days; the past days had frost, today with such cold as we are used to on Epiphany, otherwise we would not have left this region or the tall mountain. How human tales disappoint. They told us before this that Hungary has no mountains, only those that separate us from it. And now we find out that from the Danube all the way to Poland is nothing but mountains. The smaller ones give us wine, gold, silver, copper and other minerals, and the bigger ones snow and horrible forests.” From the camp near Torno, the king wrote on 27 November about the situation that changed like a kaleidoscope: “Three days ago, we entered a country completely hostile to us. The cities and castles are all closed to us, with Imre Thököly’s garrisons stationed there. Košice has several thousand people to be defended.” The Hungarians, considering Sobieski to be an ally of the Habsburgs, began to conduct guerrilla warfare against his army, at the same time defending selected cities. The winter quarters were not very uncomfortable. The army stayed in camps, within reach of Košice, “a large and very beautiful city.” Sobieski did not like the residents of Upper Hungary. “Those at the Turkish borders were virtuous, but the locals are rather dastardly.” And he continues: “you could call me Moses now, because I am leading the army out of these places.”
Sobieski made the decision to return to Poland through Šariš and Spiš, On 6 December he sent a letter from Prešov, which – as with Košice – he did not attack. He did not want to harass the Hungarians. On 28 November, he wrote: “I have no love Thököly, soul of mine, but I have great mercy for the Hungarian people, for they are terribly troubled.” In his last letters, the king, occupied with his mission, once again grows indifferent to the charms of the land. A leader awakens in him, one who minimalizes losses and takes care of his soldiers, as well as a husband who could not wait to see his beloved wife. These small references, taken from letters written in a very specific period in the king’s life, full of tensions and worries, show an interest in the world, a sense of beauty and the ability to notice odd things. All of this is written in a masterful language with excellent brevity.
Translation: Lingua Lab
