The oldest memories
It was in the spring of 1877 year. I was less than three years old then. I remember how my father - Stanisław Twardowski, about to leave for the Russian-Turkish war, said goodbye to my mother - Franciszka Twardowska, née Nalewczyńska - and they both cried. I burst into tears myself. Then Uncle Feliks Nalewczyński, my mother's oldest brother, also a witness to this separation, shouted at me loudly. I remembered his angry face. It happened at the Nalewczyński grandparents' house in the village of Jastrzębie, twenty kilometers from Warsaw.
The wedding of Aunt Ludwika Dobrowolska, née Nalewczyńska, one of my mother's sisters. It was in the early days August 1878 year, a few weeks before his father's return. I remember how Mrs. Kozierowska, the veterinarian's wife and owner of a house on Hoża Street in Warsaw, arrived in a carriage in a carriage. She came with a boy, my future friend, Ignacy Kozierowski. I remember that my grandmother gave us a piece of wholemeal bread with butter and honey. Armed with food, we set off to the remains of the forest cleared by my grandfather. The remains of this forest were beautiful. It had straight tall pine trees. We often went there to pick firewood or mushrooms. Beautiful place. It made a huge impression on me.
City apartments do not have the slightest importance for a child. They do not develop imagination.
Father returned from Turkish war w August 1878 year. He showed various souvenirs
from Turkey. Turkish socks, toys. We lived then in Warsaw - on the corner of Hoża and Leopoldyna (today Emilii Plater Street). I remember the attic of this house well. I often accompanied my mother as she hung underwear on it. How many wheels and watch rings were scattered about!
As my father became concerned about the dampness he had noticed in our house, it began
looking for a new apartment. Once, my mother and I went on this search. We walked along Leopoldyny Street to Aleje Jerozolimskie. It rained. It remains sad in my memory
the whistle of a passing locomotive. The sound was haunting. I thought it was a train driver
he cried. An unpleasant impression remained.
We lived in the old place all winter. I learned to read then. I spelled the alphabet using a pictorial alphabet - there were painted letters next to the figures.
F— beggar, d — lady. Apart from the alphabet, I also remember a beautiful book with colorful drawings of butterflies with beautifully colored wings. I have mastered the multiplication table. I don't remember my brother Feliks, he was still very small. It seemed to me that I was alone in the house.
Young people visited my father. He was always cheerful and cheerful.
We finally moved to Twarda Street after Easter 1879 year.
The house we moved into was the wooden house of Mr. Karol Kaznitz,
baker, near the corner of Żelazna and Twarda streets. A typical Jewish place. Bakery vans
they often passed outside the windows. The yard was huge, full of sheds. There I had the opportunity to learn about Jewish life. Every Saturday they dressed in their Sunday best, carrying books under their arms. I was surprised that only on Saturdays they walked slowly, dignified, without rushing.
Once I remember my father was sick. He warmed himself under the stove and was worried about his apartment
"They didn't raise it." In the summer, from June to September, I often visited my grandparents in the village of Jastrzębie. I enjoyed baking potatoes in my grandparents' field so much that one day it occurred to me to bake potatoes in the apartment when my parents were not at home. I placed the wood on the floor and lit it. As the flame grew, I began to fear that it might spread to the furniture nearby. Anticipating that the fire would disturb people passing by our windows in the yard, I started to extinguish it. I placed a stool to hide the flame coming out. At the same time I started
Living with a pump, pouring sand, not wanting to use water, so as not to leave traces. The fire went out, but the stool was charred and a black stain remained on the floor. I couldn't remove it. Feliks was born in 1876. W July 1879 Ola was born in the same year. Father greatly
he was happy for his daughter. When she got older, he placed her on the table and kissed her. smiling,
she had nice dimples in her cheeks. Once my father went to a meeting with his friends
to the "Stara Gwiazda" place. I didn't know what this place was. It was the only evening, if anything
I remember well, during which my father was not at home.
On New Year's Day 1880 When I woke up, I noticed heavy snow and a new gate built by the baker, Mr. Karol Kaznitz, separating the bakery area from the rest of the yard. Even though it was a holiday, the father was not there. I was very surprised at what happened to my father.
My mother said that my father had gone across the Vistula to his mother and my grandmother. That grandma
I never met. My father often complained about his stepfather - his grandfather died shortly after
father getting married. He made excuses to his mother that his stepfather did not care at all about his upbringing and education.
From that time I remember a faded photograph of my father in military clothes. I could not
however, capture the similarities. Easter 1880. The priest came to bless the food. At the same time, he asked me about specific parts of the prayer. Kneeling on the bed, I said prayers. My mother bought me a watch with a gold tag behind the Iron Gate. I was so happy that I even slept with him. When I went out into the yard, I bent down to make myself feel better
see the motto and show it to others. On Holy Saturday afternoon, when preparations were being made
before Christmas, one boy hit another with a piece of wood so badly,
that he gave him a black eye. It was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Różański. I remember what his mother did
screaming. I didn't know she could scream and invent things like that - because our mother was very
quiet and was never heard in the yard.
At the same time, in the Różański family's apartment, I met Mrs. Różańska's brother,
Klemens Bentkowski. I remember him for the fact that, without having half of his right hand, he was able to cut out photo frames from wood.
Jewish girls living in the same house, playing on Twarda Street, took exams
me once with the multiplication table.
- But you don't know the multiplication table.
- I know.
- What is four times eight?
I knew. They were very surprised that a little boy, not being Jewish, could read the tablet
multiplication.
I once went out to Twarda Street without anyone's supervision as a five-year-old boy. I was walking,
as I remember, along Srebrna Street to the former Okopowa Street, today's Towarowa Street. I was passing by the factory (as it later turned out, Bormann). I was surprised where the steam coming out from under the machine came from. It was the return steam of a steam engine. I couldn't explain it to myself. I turned left from Srebrna onto Okopowa Street and reached the railway crossing. For the first time in my life I saw a steam locomotive blowing steam from time to time. I was surprised that such an iron building moved without a horse. Watching how it happened, I guessed that some force was acting on the wheels, similar to the force that was coming out from under the factory gate. I liked the route I took to the crossing. I heard a rooster crowing in a building. It reminded me of my grandparents' village.
One Sunday, my parents, the Różański family and me went to Jerozolimskie 115 to
a newly built house owned by Mr. Smolak. They wanted to see apartments for rent. This trip was not without success, because in July this year we moved to this house. We lived on the second floor next to Mr. and Mrs. Różański. I liked the apartment. It was new, the floors were freshly laid. The kitchen stove was also a stove for heating the apartment. I met many boys at home. We played on the playground adjacent to the house and on the other
the yard at the back of the house.
W Christmas Eve 1880 Father found time to decorate the Christmas tree. For
it was new to me. I remember apples hanging without packaging, but candies in tissue paper.
The Christmas tree was decorated with chains made of colored paper and equipped with candles.
Later years did not give me the impression that this particular Christmas tree gave me
from my childhood years.
Advertisement of Zakłady Mechaniczne Bormann, Szwede i S-ka, where the creators of the pump factory worked: Czesław Witoszyński, Wacław Brandel, Stefan Twardowski and Szczepan Łazarkiewicz.
On Christmas Day 1880 year my father took me to the country
Coblów, who lived far behind the Jerusalem toll gates, on the left side, coming from Warsaw. There was a small house in a field, in a lonely place. Mr. Cobel was a blacksmith, he had a forge in this house. My father often said that Mrs. Coblow liked me and wanted to see me. We found Mr. Cobel in bed reading the week's newspapers. Mrs. Coblow wasn't there
at home.
During these visits, I saw a forge, bellows, an anvil, and pieces of iron. We spent
there for a few hours. It bothered me because Mr. Cobel was very stingy with his stories. When
we left, it was already dusk.
On the way back, we met a passer-by who, not knowing my father, stopped him on the road
Grójecka and asked if we knew what happened in Warsaw that day before noon.
The father replied that he didn't know anything. It turned out that during the sum in a crowded place
church of st. Cross someone shouted:
- It's burning!
There was no peace and crowds rushed to the exit. Crushed on the stairs
death of about twenty people. Soon a group of people formed and went to
restaurant "Pod Karasiem" (today the house is non-existent), she destroyed the equipment, then
she got to Wróbla Street, beat up the Jews, assuming that they were the perpetrators of the unfortunate incident in the church.
On Saint Stephen's Day, as usual, we went to church in the morning. We had no idea
that they will meet us by surprise. We passed the crossing on Żelazna Street. Right behind
Through the passage there was a two-story house reaching Chmielna Street on the left. I returned it
There, he told his father that feathers were flying. The father replied that it was probably snowing.
But as we approached the building, my father agreed. Not only were feathers flying,
but books and various things thrown out of the Jewish cheder. On the corner of Chmielna Street
and Żelazna Street, bottles of vodka were thrown into the street from a Jewish tavern.
My father was outraged that such things were happening in the street next to a gendarme on horseback. Because
my father knew Russian well, approached the gendarme and pointed out to him
What's going on. The gendarme replied that he didn't care and turned around on his horse.
Meanwhile, goods could be seen being thrown away from Jewish shops. Father doesn't
he wanted to keep going. We returned home. After dinner, my father wanted to find out what had happened.
My father and I crossed the crossing on Okopowa Street along Srebrna Street and stopped
in front of the house where we used to live. I noticed that in all the houses there were pictures of saints on display and candles were lit. Soon I noticed something strange
a crowd moving from Wanda Street towards us. I didn't have time to think about when
the rabble came running. It seemed to me that they were strangers, unknown people. They ran in the dark
clothes and dark hats, with great whistles and noise. We were surrounded by them.
Soon I was horrified to see that several of them began to tear out the iron plates
from the street pavement and throw it up to the third floor. Seeing this, and not wanting to have an accident, we turned back home.
In the evening, from a distance, I saw fires at Pańska, Prosta, Grzybowska and Łucka streets.
A few days later, just before the New Year, many people allegedly involved in the brawl were arrested. The rumor spread that they were being taken to Pavilion 10.
My learning has begun. My father taught me Polish, Russian and accounts. I don't remember,
to miss any day of classes. He always found time to study. Lessons
They took place in the evening after my father came home from work, after dinner, and lasted about two hours.
He taught me how to read, write and calculate three arithmetic operations.
Due to the fact that my father was strict and demanding, we felt more at home
only with mom. I remember that when the warm days arrived, children's games began. Klipa, classes with heaven and hell, in the summer ips (buttons tapped against the wall) and ciupy. I still remember picking chestnuts that had fallen from the trees.
We went to church on Sundays and holidays. Most often to the Church of Saint Barbara, the Church of All Saints, and from time to time to the Cathedral of St. John. The cathedral has always made a great impression on me. It stuck in my memory with its enormity, organ music, string orchestra and singing during masses.
I cried with emotion many times during services. The tombs placed in the walls on the right and left, and especially the symbolic monument of Stanisław Małachowski, particularly captured my imagination.
Lessons continued. I tried my best to answer. I was tired because the work was beyond my strength. We had to suffer many different kinds of hardships. A combination tablet and a cipher were used for lessons. The tablet was wiped with a cloth.
SEPTEMBER 24, 1881 Jasio, my brother, was born in the same year. I remember how my father, taking the calendar in his hand right after my brother's birth, named him Jan. It also increased in size
extent of my responsibility to take care of the children.
W March 1882 In the same year, Jasio got smallpox. Smallpox was very serious. Johnny
He survived the disease successfully, but with marks on his face. I remember once, nursing
Johnny in the rocking cradle, I opened the window for a moment. But I closed it quickly,
because my neighbor in the side outbuilding started shouting that I might catch chickenpox.
His father was very worried about Johnny's appearance after the bandages were removed. He had visible scars.
However, we got used to Jaś's appearance. He didn't offend us.
W May 1883 Last year, I went with my father to Jastrzębie - the home of my grandparents on my mother's side. It was supposed to be Aunt Helena's wedding with Mr. Adam Nowacki. We traveled at night in a comfortably furnished carriage, during beautiful May weather. It was Pentecost. The village seemed more beautiful to me than usual. I remember the blooming cherry trees, the sound of water in the forest ditches, the singing of birds.
Uncle Michałek, two years older than me, was my guide. When I had to leave after three days, I cried on the way that I had to go back to dirty and ugly Warsaw.
W 1883 Grandpa Nalewczyński died in the same year. IN 1884 year she was born to my parents
second daughter, my second sister Helena.
W 1883 year I went with my mother to the teacher, Mr. Władysław Swierczyński,
working in a one-room municipal school located opposite the Buch brothers' factory
and Norblin. The school was located on the first floor next to the teacher's private apartment.
One of the rooms was intended for a school classroom.
Boys aged eight to fifteen attended the school. The youngest sat in five groups
rows of desks in front of the teacher's table. The elders sat on the teacher's right hand
in the slightly higher benches. The youngest children started learning four arithmetic operations.
The older ones were already finishing all the arithmetic. This corresponded to the first, second and third
year of teaching. We sat with our backs to the window.
The teacher gave private lessons in her free time from farm duties.
I must admit that I had a very difficult time at this school, especially with arithmetic. I felt like this
it's hard that sometimes I resorted to lies. I used the excuse of illness not to go
to school where I had so many difficulties. I played truant once, but then I did
I was ashamed that it never happened again.
The teacher didn't teach much. Each desk was under the care of a top student who helped the weaker ones
colleagues. The teacher was already older and used the students.
The top student who was supposed to help me couldn't explain it well and just tormented me
me. I gave him my breakfast more than once just to leave me alone.
I remember how concerned our teacher was when he heard about the visitation that was to take place
in our school. The school inspector, Mr. Krylov, was supposed to come for a visit.
The news about the visitation did not let the teacher sleep. He was often nervous and sat down
sometimes between us in the pews and he smoked cigars nervously. Your teacher's daughter,
Miss Jadwiga Swierczyńska, gathered us at the piano and taught us to sing the Russian anthem
"God bless you"... Meanwhile, the inspector was not there.
Finally, suddenly one afternoon, the teacher heard a knock on the door
front door. He went to open it, and after a while he ran into the classroom screaming, giving orders
hastily erase some prayer written in Polish on the blackboard. I guessed there was a visitation
inspector.
Soon the door opened and we saw first a long beard, then a head, and finally
the whole inspector with a big belly. The students were so terrified of the guest that no one
he was unable to answer the inspector's questions. First of all, it was not known
respond appropriately to his greeting. All the answers were terrible. Teacher
he stood on the sidelines and shook with nervousness as to whether the inspector had noticed the attrition of the handwriting
Polish from the board upon hearing of their arrival.
Because I had learning difficulties, one day I asked my mother to go
with me to the teacher and offered him tutoring. It was going to cost
ruble per month. My mother took care of this matter one day and I received help with my studies. I went to see the teacher. She helped me with Polish, arithmetic,
geography. I started getting good grades. The fours in the diary had such an impact on me,
that I started learning better and better.
The teacher noticed me. I was sitting on the last bench, in a dark place.
After paying the first ruble, the teacher suddenly asked:
- And where is Twardowski?
The answer was that in the last bench. He told me to sit in the first one, in front of the table
teacher's.
When I showed him my notebook, he complimented me on my good writing.
“He writes so nicely and sits in the corner,” said the teacher.
There was a blank map of Europe hanging on the board. The teacher told me to show on this map-
pie city of Kyiv. I accidentally correctly pointed to a city that was on high
my eyes.
“Oh, he knows geography too,” said the teacher.
Encouraged by my success and good grades, I started studying well.
One day I told my mother that I no longer needed a teacher's help because I was starting to cope on my own and I could no longer pay a ruble a month. After my mother canceled the tutoring, I again went to a dark corner to the last bench.
Mr. Swierczyński was often sick. During his illness, Mr. Aleksander Mey replaced him.
We liked Mr. Mey very much. He never laughed at the boys, never made fun of us.
He taught carefully and was able to explain the lessons. Mr. Swierczyński was sitting at the table the whole time
during lessons. Mr. Mey could never sit still, he walked around the classroom with the little one
ruler in hand.
At the end of the school year, several boys and I decided to go to school,
where Mr. Mey permanently taught. This school was located at the corner of Nowy Świat and Ordynacka streets. I found myself in first grade. I was studying well now, I had filled in the gaps.
I was promoted to the next class with distinction.
I then made friends with my friend Kazimierz Paździerski, a tall boy
abilities and excellent memory. We lived close to each other, his father was Swiss
at wagon repair workshops.
We went to school together and returned from school together, most often. The road ran from the crossing
to Marszałkowska Street, then to Ordynacka Street.
Paździerski's parents read Sienkiewicz's "Trylogy", which was then published in serials
in one of the letters. My friend became familiar with its contents during our journey
he told me about it from school or to school. Awarded, as I said, excellent
memory, he faithfully repeated to me fragments of the novel.
These stories made a huge impression on me. At home, my father often complained about
the unsuccessful January Uprising in which he took part. I heard that the peasants did not support the Polish cause. The failure of the uprising reminded me of our national incompetence.
In his "Trilogy", Sienkiewicz emphasized the militancy of Poles and their capacity for heroism
in extremely colorful words, not devoid of poetry. "The Trilogy" made me realize
in terms of nationality. All Russification attempts failed to change anything
me.
Although Mr. Mey was able to teach us well and was liked by us, he was not
we believed him as a Muscovite. When I graduated from this school, it was necessary
decide where I will go next. A private six-grade Pankiewicz school located at Złota Street was designed for me. However, I have often seen students walking down the street
technical school located in an old building on Złota Street. I noticed how
they carried tights. I liked their hand drawings so much that I wanted to go to their school. I told about it at home. My parents gladly agreed to this because the technical school was much cheaper.
When I first went to technical school, it was already located in a new building
at Chmielna Street. I applied for the first class and was accepted to class I b. Class I b followed a broader and more advanced program than class I a.
I received ten gold rubles from my mother to pay for the entries. I didn't deposit the money right away, but I carried it with me. At the end of October, Professor Aleksander Jurgielewicz read the so-called seniority list. He read the list arranged in alphabetical order and at the same time looked at notes showing the students' progress. When he reached the letter "T", he looked into a notebook and said:
— The best-performing student is Twardowski and as such he was exempt from paying the fee
school.
I jumped up for joy not because I found out about my distinction, but...
because I now had ten gold rubles in my pocket that did not need to be paid back
School. I gave the money to my mother without telling my father. Everybody was happy.
I remember the following technical school teachers who taught me: Aleksandra
Jurgielewicz, lecturing arithmetic and performing his duties at the same time
class inspector; Aleksander Biedrzyński, Polish language teacher; Władysław
Majchrowski lecturing on the so-called introduction to natural science; Wiktor Kurhanowicz, Russian language teacher; Lubomir Dymitrowicz, drawing teacher; Lew Geller,
calligrapher; Graff Telesphorus, gymnastics; priest Stanisław Słowikowski, teacher
religion; Julian Sztatler, singing teacher. The school principal was Eugeniusz Łopuszyński,
secretary Ernest Piechoczek.
I still remember the characteristic figure of the janitor Kirill Mikhnikov, tall,
with sideburns in the style of Alexander II. The janitor was generally liked and did not harm anyone. Was
another janitor - Orlicki.
Aleksander Jurgielewicz, a mathematician, was a handsome man, tall, with a gray head
and beard. He wore a dark jacket. He devoted half an hour of class to cleaning matters
classes, reading progress in all subjects. In this part of the lesson
The janitor Orlicki administered corporal punishment by laying the punished student on a chair.
He devoted the second half hour to the lesson, but he lectured in such an accessible and methodical way that
that he always kept up with the program. He maintained good cheer and a balanced spirit.
Aleksander Biedrzyński was very nervous, middle-aged, with a broad black beard.
He taught well and didn't waste time talking.
Władysław Majchrowski was one of the best teachers. He got the best grades,
not because he was so gentle when qualifying students, but because he knew how
teach in such a way that everyone really knew the subject he taught. Until today
that day I remember the mineral hardness system he lectured on. He taught about coal, peat, wood, and plaster.
Kurhanowicz taught Russian well and did not falsify history. He signed up for gratitude
students' memory. When he died in 1896, many students attended his funeral.
Dymitrowicz drew beautifully on the blackboard. He lectured on hand drawing.
Geller's calligraphy on the blackboard was so exquisite that reading his letters made you relate
the impression that we are looking through Watman's visiting cards, on which every letter was written
artistically. He used a greased string to write on the board
chalk. With this string he measured lines and wrote on them evenly.
Telesfor Graff, a gymnast, impressed us with his strength and performed very difficult exercises
gymnastic. He was young, strong, very polite. Lessons were held at the concert hall.
However, there were not many lessons - at most two hours a week.
At that time there was no coexistence between teachers and students. Only one gentleman
Michał Rozmysłowski, a geographer and mechanic, wanted to get closer to the student. He had an influence on
youth.
He was young, nice, educated, and knew how to talk to students. Unfortunately it wasn't
actually time for these conversations. Lessons lasted from eight to twelve, after a lunch break
From three to six there were mandatory practical classes at workshops. Apart from that
older youth tutored the weaker ones, which also took a lot of time. Young people
tutors were becoming very skilled at giving lessons, but they had no time for
contact with a teacher who could provide so much more valuable information.
We drew curves, ellipses, and charts for templates. It was necessary to learn well
glue Bristol board to tights.
In the afternoon there were practical exercises at the workshops. We worked on lathes
wood. It was necessary to cut notches on wooden rollers that would fit
templates. This caused us many difficulties. Mr. Władysław Zalewski, technologist, pod
which direction we were working in, he was unable to explain to us. Colleagues, sometimes we can't
done on lathes, they gave them to old lathes in the city. During work
in the workshops we wore aprons.
I felt a lack of Latin in technical school. We had absolutely no knowledge of the humanities. Humanities subjects were omitted at my school. I complained
on our one-sided education.
I remember an interesting and nice figure of an antiquarian. His name was Rosenv. Had
book shop at the corner of ul. Złota and Marszałkowska. He was a cultured, clean man.
Once, when I visited his shop, he offered me an Orgelbrand encyclopedia
in sixteen volumes. He sold it to me without knowing me, without any money, trusting that I would pay it off in installments if possible. One day, when I showed up at his store, he told me that he had an even better, newer, illustrated encyclopedia by Orgelbrand. The illustrations greatly increased the value of the book. Technical drawings, coats of arms, human figures - all this was of priceless value to me.
Rosenvem himself suggested that I return the encyclopedia I had previously taken from him,
and he took the more beautiful, illustrated one that I liked so much. I got a new encyclopedia
under the previous conditions, the bookseller trusted me. To my inquiry:
- How do you know that I will pay you? - he replied simply:
- I know that you will pay me and I'm not afraid of that at all.
I was promoted to class II b with an award. We have a new professor in class II b
Władysław Grabowski, historian. He was similar to the old romantics. He had luxuriant hair, a large, prominent nose, without a hook, a beard and mustache, and very unhealthy skin. He gave the impression of a man of science. I remember his glasses and his sharp, owlish eyes. He was a great teacher. Polish by spirit. He knew historical publications very well. He collaborated with the outstanding literary historian Piotr Chmielewski on a scientific work. When he was going through a history textbook and noticed any lie, he never forgave it. He told me to take a pencil and cross it out immediately.
Once, when he was teaching the lesson material, he was talking about the Knights of Malta, one
One of his friends from the last bench did not take part in the lesson, he was busy playing some game. Grabowski ordered him
stood up and asked what we were talking about. When asked, after hearing something from his friend, he repeated:
- About bachelors.
- Then, bachelor, stand by the stove! - exclaimed the professor.
The professor had a Lithuanian accent. He was born in the borderlands. His health was poor, but his lessons were not good
was leaving.
We moved from Aleje Jerozolimskie to Daleka Street, behind the Jerozolimskie toll gates.
The house was on one floor, a large room with a kitchen, lots of light. This one answered my father
premises. It was cheaper.
One day, my parents went away on property matters after the death of Grandpa Nalewczyński. We were alone. Our neighbor from the first floor took care of us. I forgot about God's world, absorbed in my work carving a crucifix from wood. At that time I was reading with enthusiasm an adventurous book about Rinaldo Rinaldini.
The stay in the apartment on Daleka Street left the fondest memories. On the slopes
We picked mulberries along the tracks of the Vienna Railway. We often went looking for them,
although we were afraid of the railway guards.
We were often visited by Mr. Skudlarski, a distant cousin, a young, very nice man,
just like my father's friend, Mr. Józef Łątkiewicz.
We lived on Daleka Street until... 1888 year. But because the apartment was too far away
away from my father's place of work, I had to think about moving again.
I went alone to look for an apartment. While walking along Pańska Street, I noticed a burnt house,
partially inhabited. This house interested me. In this house I met the administrator, Mrs. Radzimińska. She came out to me, holding the baby in her arms. In this house we rented an apartment on the second floor, a room with a kitchen. We lived there for a long time. It was your 95th birthday.
While living in this house, I went for the first time, accompanied by Skudlarski, to...
theater - for the ballet "Pan Twardowski" with music by Adolf Sonnenfeld.
A few good years later, my wife and I attended the same ballet directed by Ludomir
Różycki, but I didn't like it. At this time, v 1883 year, began
sewage works. Bricks were transported, specially doused with water, and channels were dug. Everywhere
there was gas lighting. Those who came to the theater earlier could watch the fire being lit
lamps using a burning wick on a long pole.
I must mention one incident that happened in my life at that time. One day
I was called to the school office during lessons. I met an angry man in the office
father. He came about my brother Feliks and accidentally found out that I was there
exempt from school fees. I explained to him that I had told him about it some time ago
mother, giving her the money. In the beginnings 1886 Last year I gave lessons to Miss Helena Domańska, the daughter of a railway worker. The girl was twelve years old. I taught her to read and write. She lived on Chmielna Street, close to Sosnowa. I had lessons every day and received a ruble a month. These were my first lessons in life. Soon the news spread:
- Look, Twardowski's son is already giving lessons!
I still remember the lessons I gave to the son of a crayfish dealer. My new student
his name was Szymański. He lived at Ciepła Street. Over time, I learned more and more lessons.
I even taught on Czerniakowska Street. Sometimes in winter I had to walk a long way without having warm clothes. I have always been sensitive to cold, so winter bothered me.
My father gave me his silver double-case watch. It served me for a very long time on mine
lessons.
At that time I was friends with Mr. Szkudlerek. I went to the theater with him.
In class III b, during the school year 1889/1890 the new teacher Siniegub came. Whole
time lectured from memory. None of us could learn anything.
I started assembling the library. My first books were what books
I received as rewards.
In the apartment on Pańska Street, neighbors gathered in the corridor in the evenings to read
books. My father read aloud very clearly. Mostly he read some fragments
calendar and new novels by Sienkiewicz or Kraszewski.
At the end of the school year, after completing III b, you had to take an exam before foreign professors, from another junior high school. In this case, from the Pankiewicz Junior High School at ul. Złota 3. The day before the written exam in Russian, on Sunday evening, Mr. Kurhanowicz told us to come to school. He gave us various topics to draw on separate pieces of paper. We randomly selected one of the topics that was chosen by
professor discussed. The next day we found ourselves in a strange school - Pankiewicz Junior High School. We received one of the topics that had been accidentally discussed by Professor Kurhanowicz the previous day. We were well prepared for it. After a few days, Professor Papiniuk stated that everyone wrote the same. So he lowered everyone's rank by one. I remember I got a three then.
I passed the exam successfully, winning a volume of Pushkin's poetry as a prize.
I remember that during the holidays in... 1890 year I received more correspondence.
Mr. Jan Billing, the owner of the lingerie store in which the advertising shirt was hanging,
he went to the school office with a request to send one of the students who would
prepared his son Wacław Billing for technical school. The secretary gave me the address
Billing, offering me lessons.
I entered the store from the yard, getting among some girls sewing underwear.
I found Mr. Billing sitting at the counter. I reported to him. Mr. Billing looked at me, but I must have looked very young, because he began to disbelieve me, saying,
that a student must respect the teacher, and I look younger than him
son. I replied that a teacher deserves respect only while working.
Mr. Billing told me to come at four o'clock in the afternoon. In the meantime he went to
the school secretary asking if he had made a mistake in recommending me to give private lessons. The secretary assured him not to worry about me. When I arrived at the store in the afternoon, Mr. Billing spoke to me in a completely different way. I was supposed to get twenty
rubles a month, working with his son as much time as I thought was necessary. I plowed like
horse. My student, Wacław Billing, after graduating from technical school, went to Switzerland,
he worked there as an ordinary bricklayer, polished students' shoes, and in return they taught him.
They prepared him for college. Soon he went to Padua and graduated from the polytechnic there
master's degree. He built bridges. One day I found his obituary in one
from the writings. It turned out that he fell into depression and soon died.
I became closer friends with my friend Ludwik Żakiewicz. He lived in Leszno, on Żelazna Street, with his mother and brother. We studied well. When moving from the first course to the second, we were exempted from exams based on good yearly grades. My friend Żakiewicz encouraged me to get to know the theater. We went to plays with him. About a year now 1894 I was a frequent theater guest.
At that time, two dramatic artists were famous: Maria Wisnowska and Jadwiga
Chaki. Each of them had their own clappers who came to the theater with pieces
pieces of wood attached to their hands to applaud their ideals louder. IN 1890 year he had
place of a tragic accident. Wisnowska was shot by the Russian Aleksander
Barteniev. Many years later, the princess came to our house on Grochowska Street
Russian, pretending to be the mother of Wisnowska's unfortunate killer. She was in poverty, she gave help
us massages.
I once drew the head of Tadeusz Kościuszko. My father took the drawing and showed it to the master
Radzimiński, the administrator of the house and, above all, the father of my future wife.
Mr. Radzimiński praised the drawing, saying that I had talent. There were no funds to do so
study drawing.
During summer holidays 1892 I did an internship on the railway for a year. It was practice
road - we nailed the rails. It was extremely hot then. At that time, cholera broke out in Warsaw, but the disease didn't bother us young people. We were busy working. At that time, I was giving private lessons in a house on Hoża Street, near Trzech Krzyży Square. My student's mother was the widow of a teacher. I remember that once I came to this house and I couldn't take my galoshes off my feet. I struggled with him for a long time in the hall. Finally I entered the room in that rascally wellington boot. My student played Napoleon. His younger brother, whom I did not teach, was cheating on his aunt. When his aunt hung pretzels on the samovar, he was able to skillfully tear them up. When she started looking for them, he hung them back up stealthily. He once ran away from home and was gone for three days. His mother accidentally found him in the city riding a cart. I don't know what happened to my student and his brother - we went our separate ways. I still remember the lessons I gave to the son of the machinist Antoni Czajmnitz. Then I started practicing on a steam locomotive. I rode on the third one, next to the driver and his assistant. The old train driver Zając was supervising. I remember Aleksander Bułka. He was a young man, handsome, very strong. He could throw a boy over a fence when he got in his way. I once witnessed a fight between Mr. Zając and Mr. Bułka. Mr. Hare told Bułka that although he had a nice son, he was stupid. Bułka felt offended and left the railway. Soon, in "Musze", edited by Mr. Władysław Buchner - a railway worker, there was a note: "The hare could not
digest the Rolls.”
As I moved from course one to two and from course two to three, I received as rewards
two boxes of compasses. At the end of the third course, as a reward for my progress in learning, I received Wagner's "Chemical Technology" in Russian.
After graduating from school, the job search began. At first I worked
in the railway workshops on Czysta Street. I walked from home to work for almost an hour,
taking the coffee can. I received 50 kopecks a day as salary. Soon
however, I was assigned to the office of engineer Ludwik Wojny. I was preparing
technical drawings. I worked from nine to three in the afternoon. In further
I used to give private lessons.
Mr. Bolesław Wierzbicki, a student of a technical school, gave me some work to do
various technical drawings for the exhibition in St. Petersburg. Working on these drawings was absorbing
I have a lot of time.
I got a job in a railway office together with four colleagues. I spent most of the time
time with the Żakiewicz family, his mother and his brother - Antoni, on Leszno Street. We spent
merry time. My relationship with my friend Żakiewicz was getting closer and closer.
I brought a piano and learned music. I was given lessons by Mr. Ludwik Hajntze.
This lasted until November 1895 year, that is, until recruitment into the army. He was discharged from the army
me, firstly, because I was entitled to leave as the eldest son, my father's guardian, and secondly, the committee found that I was too slim.
I was still a regular guest of the Żakiewicz family, where you stayed
Domagałło, the Żakiewicz family's cousin, a cheerful widow. It was very fun there. We laughed at it
for all times.
At that time, the famous Italian singer Mattia Battistini performed at the Warsaw Opera.
A wonderful baritone, he played the showpiece role of Don Juan. I've been to this opera seven times.
I admired the wonderful singer. I even bought the score of Don Juan and studied it
her carefully. To this day I remember the beginning of the well-known aria: “No rest
night and day, I almost walk around like a shadow.” I still remember the catalog of seduced women
by Don Juan. Regardless of attending operas, it's time to visit picture galleries frequently. At that time, Zachęta Sztuk Pięknych was located in the yard of the Potocki Palace.
I remember Władysław Podkowiński's famous painting "Frenzy" depicting a naked woman
on horse. Once upon a time, a painter who was severely criticized for this painting entered an exhibition
and destroyed it. This caused a great stir in Warsaw at that time.
Almost immediately after graduating from school, I tried to work at the Bormann factory located in...
located at 16 Srebrna Street. This factory manufactured steam boilers, sugar equipment,
distillery, poles, barrels. The factory employed about eight hundred people, including about fifty engineers and technicians in the design office. I heard from
colleagues who have already worked there that it is very well run.
W June 1896 my office colleague, also a graduate of a technical school,
he asked if I would like to work in the technical office. In mid-July I paid a visit
Mr. Maurycy Bormann himself. He said he could talk to you about me
Edmund Jaworski, whom I already knew then, provided I agreed to work in the design office. I agreed. Bormann wrote down my address in his notebook. I was supposed to report to work at his place in August.
After a few days, I talked to Mr. Jaworski, who welcomed me very kindly.
At the Bormann factory I met my friends from the same year: Bolesław Srzednicki,
Leopold Chrzanowski, Adam Piaskowski, Józef Pestrych, Adolf Hajntzy
and others from higher school years. One day I went to say goodbye to you
engineer Wojno. Mr. Wojno was dissatisfied with my departure. We parted ways. When we said goodbye, Mr. Wojno said that if I felt bad anywhere, he would always take me in. Unfortunately, Mr. Wojno did not live long - he soon became seriously ill and died.
From my first day at Bormann, I was struck by the immense silence in the office. Quite
not like on the railway. This silence was conducive to work.
I met people and a life of friendship began. We gathered at the restaurant
"Pod Trupem" on Złota Street, in a garden with a rented office. Some played the piano,
others still recited prepared pieces.
This friendship lasted for several years. At that time I was working as a junior designer
for machine projects.
Memories dictated by Fr. Jan Twardowski during his illness before his death, made available to the publisher by Janusz Twardowski.
Stefan Twardowski, from May 1, 1915, employee and then partner of Wacław Brandl
and Czesław Witoszyński. From 1919 he was the sole owner of the factory, which in 1929
received the name Zakłady Mechaniczne inż. Stefan Twardowski.
