Category Archives: History

A Royal State Visit to Poland (NL Embassy in PL)

Last Wednesday was King’s Day in the Netherlands, which celebrates the birthday of His Majesty King Willem-Alexander. Interestingly, the king chose Poland as the destination for his first ever state visit, where he travelled together with his wife, Her Majesty Queen Máxima. The visit took place on 24 and 25 June 2014. The royal couple was kindly received at the presidential palace in Warsaw by president Bronisław Komorowski and his wife, Anna Komorowska. Amongst other things, the king and queen paid their respects at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, visited the Warsaw Rising Museum, and met with Polish veterans at the monument of the 1st Armoured Division of general Stanisław Maczek, which played a vital role in the liberation of the Netherlands during the Second World War. King Willem-Alexander personally thanked Marian Słowiński, at that time the oldest surviving liberator of Breda. On the second day of their visit, the king and queen travelled to Poznań, where they had meetings concerning transport, agriculture, and other industries.

In a speech held during a banquet in Warsaw, the king expressed his admiration for Poland’s historical struggle for freedom and independence, and called Poland an important partner in many respects. Together with president Komorowski, he toasted to the close cooperation between Poland and the Netherlands.

The photograph shows King Willem-Alexander, Queen Máxima, president Bronisław Komorowski, his wife Anna Komorowska, and Marian Słowiński at the meeting with Polish veterans (source: ANP).

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 31.

KNHG lezing: Gedichten uit Gdańsk over het Rampjaar

Op 22 april vond het jaarlijkse KNHG Voorjaarscongres plaats in het BHIC (Brabants Historisch Informatie Centrum) te ‘s-Hertogenbosch. Het congres had als titel ‘Bloed, kruit en tranen: Betekenis en herdenking van het Rampjaar 1672’ en werd georganiseerd ter gelegenheid van 350 jaar Rampjaar. Historici, erfgoedprofessionals, museummedewerkers, onderwijzers en andere geïnteresseerden kwamen bijeen om te praten over verschillende aspecten van het jaar 1672. Ter sprake kwamen o.a. onderbelichte perspectieven uit binnen- en buitenland, de herinneringscultuur vandaag de dag, en zelfs de geur van het Rampjaar.

Ikzelf verzorgde een lezing in de sessie ‘Het Rampjaar in woord en beeld: Reacties en representaties uit de Republiek, Gdańsk en Aleppo’. Mijn presentatie droeg de titel ‘Baltische betrokkenheid tussen schrik en scherts: Gedichten uit Gdańsk over het Rampjaar’.

De gebeurtenissen van het Rampjaar trokken internationaal de aandacht. Zo ook in de Baltische havenstad Gdańsk (Danzig), waar ik gedurende mijn promotieonderzoek zeker 10-15 gedichten heb kunnen vinden die reageren op de rampspoed die de Republiek in 1672 ten deel viel. Uiteindelijk heb ik om meerdere redenen besloten om het bronmateriaal uit Gdańsk grotendeels uit mijn proefschrift te laten en te bewaren voor een toekomstig onderzoeksproject. Met mijn lezing liet ik zien wat de mogelijkheden zijn van een dergelijk onderzoek. Mijn doel was om te achterhalen wat de gedichten ons kunnen leren over de vraag hoe en waarom men in Gdańsk het Rampjaar beleefde. De meeste gedichten zijn geschreven in het Latijn en zijn te vinden in zogenaamde sylvae: grote poëzieverzamelingen met verzen over allerhande internationale onderwerpen. Ze laten grofweg drie perspectieven zien: pro-De Witt, anti-de Witt en meer algemeen pro-Republiek. Van al die perspectieven besprak ik één voorbeeld.

Johannes Petrus Titius op een gravure uit 1690.

Wellicht het meest bijzondere gedicht is een werk van de plaatselijke docent en geleerde Johannes Petrus Titius (1619-1689), die een gloedvol grafschrift schreef voor de gebroeders De Witt. Zijn gedicht is uitgesproken positief over de broers, spreekt vol walging over hun tragische dood en bevat een algemene les voor de lezers: pas op voor het wisselvallige lot! Een gedrukt pamflet met zijn Latijnse gedicht – inclusief Duitse vertaling en portretten van Johan en Cornelis de Witt – was reeds bekend, maar de auteur en plaats van uitgave nog niet. Aangezien ik in Gdańsk twee handschreven, gesigneerde kopieën van het gedicht heb kunnen vinden, is het aannemelijk dat Titius voor de compositie verantwoordelijk was en het pamflet in Gdańsk werd gepubliceerd. Kennelijk waren meerdere mensen ter plekke bereid om tijd en geld te investeren in de verspreiding van dit pro-De Witt geluid.

Van de meeste andere gedichten heb ik kunnen achterhalen dat ze kopieën zijn van elders gedrukte teksten, met name afkomstig uit de Republiek. Tussen Gdańsk en de Noordelijke Nederlanden bestond veel verkeer van mensen en goederen, dus is het niet verwonderlijk dat ook nieuws en literatuur van de Republiek naar de Baltische havenstad reisde. Tussen de anti-De Witt gedichten zit o.a. een lang, anoniem Nederlands grafschrift van Johan de Witt, dat oorspronkelijk gedrukt was in de Republiek. Het bevestigt het idee dat velen in Gdańsk het Nederlands machtig waren – al heeft de kopiist de tekst her en der ‘verduitst’, bijvoorbeeld door naamvallen aan te passen. Interessant is ook dat zowel pro- als anti-De Witt gedichten soms in één en hetzelfde manuscript te vinden zijn: dat men een gedicht kopieerde, betekent dus niet per definitie dat men het eens was met het sentiment dat het gedicht vertolkt. Helder is in ieder geval wel dat de retorische en ideologische strijd die in de Republiek woedde tussen de staats- en prinsgezinden ook actief werd gevoerd in Gdańsk.

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De bibliotheek van Gdańsk in Reinhold Curicke, ‘Der Stadt Danzig Historische Beschreibung’ (1687).

Ik eindigde door te speculeren over de mogelijke redenen die men in Gdańsk kon hebben om gedichten te schrijven en verspreiden over het Rampjaar. Ten eerste benoemde ik een spanningsveld tussen persoonlijke en ‘gemaakte’ motivatie: iemand kon oprechte betrokkenheid voelen bij de gebeurtenissen van 1672, maar kon ook betaald worden om gedichten (over) te schrijven, bijvoorbeeld door de autoriteiten van Gdańsk. Daarnaast is er een spanningsveld tussen plaatselijk en transnationaal belang: auteurs of kopiisten konden bijvoorbeeld schrijven om de publieke opinie te beïnvloeden in zowel binnen- als buitenland. Sommige gedichten bevatten immers boodschappen die ook lokaal belangwekkend zullen zijn geweest, omdat ze betrekking hebben op correct staatsbestuur of religieuze tolerantie. Tot slot was er wellicht sprake van literair gemotiveerde interesse: mensen genoten ervan om gedichten te schrijven en te lezen, en een goedgevulde sylva kon dienen als een dichterlijk archief van de actualiteit, waarin allerhande, ook tegenstrijdige geluiden konden worden samengebracht.

Mijn lezing wierp zodoende licht op zowel de inhoud als de wordingsgeschiedenis van de contemporaine, internationale verbeelding van het Rampjaar, dat klaarblijkelijk bijzonder de aandacht trok in Gdańsk. Ik hoop mijn onderzoek over de literaire banden tussen de Republiek en Gdańsk ooit verder te kunnen uitwerken: de archieven in Gdańsk liggen vol met tot dusverre onbekende gedichten en prozateksten, die een belangrijke literaire dimensie vormden van de culturele verwevenheid tussen de Baltische havenstad en de Noordelijke Nederlanden. Deze kant van de betrekkingen tussen vroegmodern Polen en Nederland verdient meer aandacht in de toekomst.

Ukraine in 17th-Century Dutch Poetry (NL Embassy in PL)

Dutch interest in Ukraine is not something new. As early as the seventeenth century, Dutch media reported on political developments in lands that were already known as Ukrainian territories. At that time, the lands which currently lie within Ukraine’s borders were a bone of contention for Poles, Russians, Cossacks, and Tatars. Dutch poets also wrote about these struggles, especially if they were important to the Dutch economy.

In 1649, for example, the renowned poet Joost van den Vondel commented on Tatar raids in Ukrainian territories, which “laid Poland in ashes” and “threatened us here with famine”: a clear reference to the grain trade between Poland and the Dutch Republic. Vondel obviously knew that large amounts of grain were produced in Ukraine, which at the time formed part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. From the south, the grain was then transported to Gdańsk, where it was bought in bulks by Dutch merchants.

A few years later, in 1657, the anonymous author of a Dutch pamphlet reacted to the many wars which crippled the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth: it was fighting the Cossacks, Tatars, Russians, and Swedes all at once – and was facing heavy losses. According to the author, the proud Polish nobles themselves were to blame:

Ukraine is the beginning of the game,
The Polish nobility, proud and fierce
Is the cause of these disasters;
Who knows how the game will end,
Pride comes before a fall,
Everyone comes to fight here.

These verses obviously refer to the 1648 Cossack Uprising, led by Bohdan Khmelnytsky, who according to the poem aimed to lift “the proud Polish nobility from its saddle”. Later on, the focus shifts to the Swedish invasion of Poland, and the Dutch author argues in favor of sending aid to Gdańsk in order to protect the grain trade.

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One final example dates from 1671. The poet Joannes Antonides van der Goes once again linked the ongoing fighting in Ukrainian territories with threats to the Dutch grain trade. Poland could feed the whole world, he wrote, if the country were not involved in wars with the Tatars, Turks, and Cossacks, led this time by hetman Petro Doroszenko. Echoing the earlier poem, Van der Goes stated that the Cossacks threatened to “lift the Polish nobility from its saddle”.

These examples make clear that Dutch readers and writers had a keen interest in political developments in Ukraine, which was essential to the Dutch economy due to the grain it produced. To this day, Ukraine is one of the largest grain exporters in the world.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 30.

New publication: Memory culture on the Dutch and Polish Grand Tour

I am proud to have contributed – with my friend and colleague Alan Moss – to a fascinating Open Access book, published by Brill and edited by Koen Scholten, Dirk van Miert, and Karl Enenkel, entitled Memory and Identity in the Learned World. Community Formation in the Early Modern World of Learning and Science. Our chapter, ‘Tracing the Sites of Learned Men. Places and Objects of Knowledge on the Dutch and Polish Grand Tour’, concerns memory culture on seventeenth-century Dutch and Polish educational journeys across Europe.

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Specifically, we study how places of knowledge (i.a. universities and the homes, tombs, and monuments of scholars), or objects of knowledge (i.a. a scholar’s personal belongings), strengthened a visitor’s scholarly persona and connected him to a large, academic community. Applying a transnational approach, we use multiple handwritten travelogues and printed poems by both Dutch and Polish travellers, thus offering a fresh perspective on two widespread phenomena: the Grand Tour and the European learned world, the Republic of Letters. While most studies on the Grand Tour have a British focus, we present Polish and Dutch experiences. Also, we cast a wide net on the learned world, defined not only by correspondences, but by the shared appreciation and remembrance of scholars and places of knowledge.

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First, we focus on Dutch and Polish travellers’ responses to Oxford and Leiden. By reflecting on these cities, itinerants helped construct their reputations as hubs of knowledge and as the common ground of a larger academic community, with which the voyagers identified. Next, we discuss sites and artefacts connected to Lipsius, Grotius, and Erasmus, ranging from Lipsius’s silver pen in Halle to Erasmus’s statue in Rotterdam and the grave of Grotius in Delft, all of which inspired travellers to relate to these famed men of letters. Lastly, we investigate how these and other locations and artefacts feature in the Latin poetry of two travellers: the Silesian-Polish Joachim Pastorius and the Dutch Caspar van Kinschot. Their verses show how they creatively engaged with universities and academic forebears.

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In our conclusion, we consider the various ways in which both Polish and Dutch travellers constructed an academic community via places and objects of knowledge, and we explain that, while some sites and artefacts were transconfessional, others inspired religious controversy. Also, we assert that the learned imagined community not only transcended national and (to an extent) religious boundaries, but chronological ones as well, since places and objects of scholarly memory were portals through which generational borders could be crossed.

The chapter includes some highly interesting finds, such as the earliest known published catalogue of rarities in Leiden’s hortus botanicus: an apparently unique document, dated 1653, which a Polish Jesuit added to his travelogue.

Our thanks go out to the editors!

Travelling Through Ukraine in the 1590s (NL Embassy in PL)

Let us tell you a story which testifies to the old bonds between the Netherlands and the lands of Ukraine. A few weeks ago, we already wrote about the seventeenth-century Volhynian nobleman Samuel Korecki, who journeyed to the Netherlands and studied in Leiden. This time, we follow a Dutch student who travelled in the opposite direction.

In the 1590s, a young man named Joris van der Does/Georgius Dousa (1574-1599) rode from Leiden across Europe to Constantinople, where he hoped to study ancient Greek manuscripts and inscriptions. In 1599, a Latin book about his travels was published in Leiden. We wrote about Joris’s favourable descriptions of the Polish cities of Cracow and Zamość a few months ago. However, Joris also passed through lands which currently lie in western Ukraine. What did he see and who did he meet?

Leaving Cracow in September 1596, Joris travelled south-east via Jarosław, before passing the current Polish-Ukrainian border. The first town in modern Ukraine along his route was Yavoriv, where he met a friend of his father’s, the Polish politician Jan Szczęsny Herburt (1567-1616). Joris then travelled onwards to nearby Lviv, one of modern-day Ukraine’s largest and most resplendent cities. He observed that Lviv was a commercial centre of Cretan wine and Turkish merchandise, as well as the home of four religious groups: Greek Orthodox Christians, Roman Catholics, Armenian Christians, and Jews. While in Lviv, Joris was received most amicably by the well-known poet Szymon Szymonowicz (1558-1629), whose Latin works the young Dutchman greatly admired. Szymonowicz was also a friend of Joris’s father, and his poems were published in Leiden in 1619.

Finally, Joris left Lviv and travelled on to Kamianets-Podilskyi, a city and castle near the current Ukrainian-Moldavian border. On his way there, Joris saw many people with their hair in a so-called kołtun or plica polonica: a kind of thick, clotted braid, which at that time was considered a disease, commonly associated with Poles. Kamianets-Podilskyi itself was described by Joris as surrounded by a huge cliff, which looked like “walls made by the hands of Cyclopes”. Tying in with literary commonplaces about Poland, however, Joris concluded that the Poles who owned the castle were not keen on walls and fortifications, but rather preferred to defend their territory with “cavalry, arms, and a powerful spirit”.

The courageous people of modern Ukraine certainly have a powerful spirit as well. The fascinating history of their country deserves to be better known, especially at a time when that history is itself contested and the people and cultural heritage of Ukraine are under attack.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 29.

An Adventurous Volhynian and the Netherlands (NL Embassy in PL)

History plays a crucial role in the Ukrainian-Russian War, as President Putin continues to spread misinformation and a twisted version of Ukraine’s past to legitimise his invasion as an attempt to “reunite” Ukraine with Russia. Let us consider a bit of Ukrainian history, therefore, relating to the Netherlands, from a time when modern-day Ukraine was not part of Russia.

Kan een afbeelding zijn van 1 persoon en baardIn July 1606, a young student called Samuel Korecki inscribed his name into the album amicorum (“book of friends”) of the Dutch scholar and mayor of Harderwijk, Ernst Brinck. Korecki’s name features amongst numerous well-known men of the time, such as Galileo Galilei. But who was he?

Samuel Korecki was a duke from the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, whose family owned Korets Castle and vast estates in Volhynia. This region, currently in western Ukraine, had for a long time belonged to the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, but during the sixteenth century was incorporated into the Kingdom of Poland. Samuel Korecki was born there ca. 1586/88 and made a military career in service of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. During the Polish-Russian War of 1609-1618, he aided the Polish forces which occupied the Kremlin. He fought the Tatars and Moldavians on multiple occasions, and famously escaped Ottoman imprisonment. Returning home via Italy, he once again faced the Commonwealth’s southern enemies at the Battle of Cecora in 1620. Korecki was taken captive once more, and was eventually strangled by the Ottomans in Istanbul, in 1622.

So how did his name find its way into Ernst Brinck’s album amicorum? Before his military career, Samuel Korecki studied in the Northern Netherlands. He enrolled as an arts student at Leiden University on 29 May 1604, together with his younger brother Karol. This was not uncommon: since the founding of Leiden University in 1575, hundreds if not thousands of nobles from the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth studied in Leiden. Apparently, Samuel met Ernst Brinck and decided to inscribe his name into his “book of friends”.

When Samuel finished his studies, Dominicus Baudius, one of the university professors, wrote a Latin poem in his honour, which was published in Leiden in 1607. Baudius ended his eulogy by saying that “Themis [the ancient Greek goddess of justice] will lift your name above the high stars of the sky,” implying that his Volhynian friend deserved eternal praise.

The case of Samuel Korecki illustrates that Ukrainian history is not Russian history, and Dutch-Ukrainian relations go way back.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 28.

The Polish Elfstedentocht (NL Embassy in PL)

Have you ever heard of the Polish Elfstedentocht? It is a truth universally acknowledged that the Dutch love ice skating. At the 2022 Winter Olympics, the Dutch team once again won multiple medals on the ice. Possibly the most famous and thought-provoking ice skating tradition in the Netherlands is the so-called Elfstedentocht (Eleven-City-Tour), a tour of almost 200 km via eleven towns in Frisia, skated on natural ice. The first Elfstedentocht was held in 1909, and a total of fifteen tours have been skated thus far.

Geen fotobeschrijving beschikbaar.

The Elfstedentocht also has a Polish connection. In 1985, when it looked as though the real Elfstedentocht could not be organised due to unfavourable weather conditions, several Dutchmen and -women travelled by bus to Poland, where an alternative tour was planned. Unfortunately, on the night they arrived at their hotel, it was announced that the real Elfstedentocht would be held after all! The skaters did their best to organise a swift return to the Netherlands, which at that time – with the Iron Curtain still in place – proved quite the challenge. In the end, most of the Dutch skaters made it back home in time. One of the men who hurried back was Rein Jonker, who was a contender for the tour’s title. He finished in fifteenth place, however. The following year, at the fourteenth Elfstedentocht, Jonker came in second.

This does not mean that there was no alternative tour in Poland. In fact, Polish versions of the Elfstedentocht were organised in both 1985 and 1986.

More information can be found here.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 27.

A Polish Queen and a Dutch Poet (NL Embassy in PL)

In 1648, around this time of the year, the Polish queen Marie-Louise de Gonzague-Nevers will have received a pleasant letter from the Northern Netherlands. None other than the famed poet and diplomat Constantijn Huygens wrote to her, offering her a personal gift: a copy of his recently published ‘Pathodia sacra et profana’, a collection of psalms and musical compositions with texts in Latin, Italian, and French. The letter itself was written in French – the queen’s native language – and Constantijn signed it in Holland on 6 January. Taking into account a delivery time of a few weeks, this means that the book must have reached Warsaw by the end of January or beginning of February.

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Constantijn clearly tried to impress and flatter the queen. He referred to her brief stay in the Dutch Republic in December 1645-January 1646 – an episode we discussed some time ago: “Your passage alone has perfumed the air of these provinces so much, and you have left such strong impressions of your multiple excellent qualities and universal knowledge of all that can be called beautiful, that ultimately, Madam, all those who in some way profess to love beauty, have desired to bear witness to that which art or nature has bestowed upon them in that area.” The author then humbly introduced himself as “one of those fortunate unfortunates”, since although he missed her during her presence in Holland, “the distance from here to the furthest north would not be large enough to prevent me from always seeing and admiring you, as if you had never left Amsterdam”. “The furthest north” was Constantijn’s way of referring to Poland. Whereas Poland is nowadays commonly seen as an Eastern European, or possibly a Central or East-Central European country, authors in the 17th century universally described it as a part of “the north”, just as the Dutch Republic itself.

Finally, Constantijn presented the actual subject of the letter: his book, which “throws itself at Your Majesty’s feet”. Constantijn argued that the queen might like it, since it was printed in Paris, and claimed that he was forced to send it to her, merely because others had threatened to do so without his knowledge, which would “rob him of the opportunity, for which I have waited so patiently, to tell you how much I honour the grace which I ask of you, to be regarded with all respect and submission”. With this mix of false modesty and abundant admiration, Constantijn obviously wanted to win the queen’s favour. Considering his prominent position in Dutch politics, his book and letter can be seen as diplomatic tools, used not only for the author’s personal gain, but also aimed at strengthening the bonds between the Dutch Republic and the Polish court.

Did Marie-Louise like Constantijn’s gift? Sadly, we do not know how Marie-Louise responded, but as she was an active patroness of poetry, she may have spent many hours enjoying Constantijn’s writings.

The French letter and a Dutch translation by Rudolf Rasch can be found here.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 26.

Solidarność and the Netherlands (NL Embassy in PL)

Forty years ago, Poland was in the grip of the martial law, which had been introduced on 13 December 1981. A military junta attempted to weaken political opposition, for example by the deployment of army units, censorship, and the imprisonment of activists without trial. The period also saw great shortages in food supplies. Poland’s martial law lasted until July 1983.

In the Netherlands, several organisations set up help for Poland. Most famously, the Stichting Vriendenhulp Heemstede (Friends’ Help Foundation Heemstede) organised ‘Pak van je hart’ (‘A Package from the Heart’ – a Dutch play on words), a fundraiser which resulted in 180.000-200.000 ‘Christmas boxes’ filled with food. 130 Dutch trucks delivered them all over Poland. Other initiatives were organised as well, many of which were centralised in the so-called Nederlandse Stichting Hulp aan Polen (Dutch Foundation of Help for Poland), which set up advertising campaigns to keep raising funds for Poland.

In addition, attempts were made in the Netherlands to cooperate with Solidarność, the Polish trade union and social movement which formed the main target of the martial law. The attempts were primarily undertaken by Merpol (Mensenrechten in Polen, Human Rights in Poland), an organisation of Poles in the Netherlands. One of them was Jan Minkiewicz, the son of Polish migrants, who was raised in the Netherlands. On 19 December 1981, during a national demonstration in Amsterdam against the Polish martial law, Minkiewicz called for the establishment of a Dutch Solidarność bureau. The bureau’s first meeting occurred on 13 January 1982. It became a focal point in the Netherlands for information about Poland, organised demonstrations, and raised funds for Polish causes. Minkiewicz, meanwhile, became a central figure in the cooperation between Solidarność and Western activists. He eventually became the Western representative of the WiP (Ruch Wolność i Pokój, The Freedom and Peace Movement), a Polish opposition movement established in 1985.

Kan een zwart-witafbeelding zijn van 6 mensen en staande mensen
Jan Minkiewicz (holding the microphone) at the demonstration in Amsterdam on 19 December 1981.

More information about Solidarność and the Netherlands can be found in the PhD thesis of Christie Miedema.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 25.

Depicting the “Eastern” Polish Look (NL Embassy in PL)

Kan een afbeelding zijn van monument en steenmuurThis time of year, many of us have a nativity scene in our homes. They commonly include the Three Kings, also known as Wise Men or Magi, who came to honour Christ after his birth. These Kings are often dressed in long oriental robes and turbans. What is less commonly known, is that such a look in the previous centuries was sometimes associated with Polish dress. This can be exemplified by a gable stone showing a ‘Pool’, which is dated 1688, and which adorns a building on the Kerkstraat 322 in Amsterdam.

During the sixteenth century, Polish male fashion became increasingly influenced by Persian and Ottoman examples, leading Polish noblemen to wear colourful leather boots with heels, a kontusz (a coat or outer kaftan), a ferezja or delia (different types of cloaks), worn over a long-sleeved żupan (a tunic), and a kołpak (a hat often embellished with fur and feathers). Dutch artists and artisans subsequently produced multiple images of ‘typical’ Polish nobles, for example in books, on maps, and… on gable stones. To Dutch eyes, however, Polish dress differed very little – if at all – from other Eastern fashion: Polish figures were also used to represent Hungarians, for example. Similarly, Polish figures were sometimes indistinguishable from Ottomans.

ImageThis is why the ‘Pool’ on the gable stone in Amsterdam looks the way he does. His clothing – which even includes a turban – and his posture are reminiscent of a man in a print by the Dutch engraver Lucas Vorsterman, after the Adoration of the Magi by the famed painter Peter Paul Rubens, a painting from 1621. Rubens in turn based himself on Italian illustrations. It is likely that the gable stone’s maker referred to the same pictorial tradition. This is how the ‘Pool’ on the gable stone in Amsterdam is related to nativity scenes.

Interestingly, the French diplomat Charles Ogier, who visited Poland in the 1630s, likewise associated Polish fashion with the Three Kings. Describing a host of Polish nobles, he compared them to “the Eastern Magi, who came to honour the Infant Jesus with a large measure of display.”

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 24.