Every Pole has learned about the ‘Potop’ or ‘Deluge’: the Swedish invasion of Poland, part of the Second Northern War, which started in 1655. What is less well known, however, is that the Dutch Republic played a part in that war as well. On 10 July 1656, the States-General and the representatives of Gdańsk and Poland signed a concept treaty in The Hague, which stipulated that the Dutch (together with the Danes) would come to the city’s aid in case it were attacked. The States furthermore considered offering Gdańsk financial and military assistance in the form of loans and soldiers. In turn, the Dutch demanded the same freedom of commerce as merchants from Gdańsk itself. The city’s authorities still needed to ratify the treaty, however.

In late July, a large Dutch fleet was sent to the Baltic in order to lend support to Gdańsk and put pressure on the Swedes. Meanwhile, a Dutch diplomatic delegation tried to include Gdańsk in an agreement with Sweden, which would force the town to adopt a neutral position in the conflict. As this would violate the city’s fealty to Poland, however, its officials did not approve. Moreover, they refused to ratify the concept treaty signed on 10 July. The Dutch ambassadors subsequently left Gdańsk in early October, together with the bulk of the fleet. As a final token of support, several hundred Dutch soldiers were temporarily stationed in Gdańsk. A local author thanked the Dutch with a Latin poem, expressing the hope for future cooperation.

In 1658, a Dutch fleet defeated the Swedes during the Battle of the Sound. The success prompted numerous celebratory reactions from Dutch writers and artists, who applauded the Dutch victory and deplored the sorry state of Poland, which had been ravaged by Swedish armies. One year later, in November 1659, the Poles and Dutch together with Danish and Prussian troops defeated the Swedes at the Battle of Nyborg, in Denmark. The Dutch naval force was commanded by admiral Michiel de Ruyter, while the Polish armies were led by general Stefan Czarniecki. Several poets pictured the Dutch and Poles as close allies, including the famed Joost van den Vondel, who wrote: “See how the eagles and proud lions strike their talons and claws in the heart of the Swedes.”

In 1660, the death of king Karl X Gustav of Sweden hastened the end of the Second Northern War.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 46.

You may have heard of the Palmwood wreck: a shipwreck from the middle of the seventeenth century, found near the Dutch island of Texel. What is less well known, is that the wreck has an exciting link with Poland! In 2014, local enthusiasts began to dive up objects from the wreck, which proved full of seventeenth-century treasures. The most eye-catching example is a silk dress, which survived in remarkably good condition. The cargo also included a kaftan, book covers, jewellery, and many other precious objects. However, the wreck itself has not been recovered, and much of its cargo still lies buried in the seabed near Texel.

Researchers have carefully studied the objects which have been found so far, trying to piece together the history of the ship: where did it come from, where was it going, who did the objects belong to? One interesting theory pertains to Poland. At least one of the book covers recovered from the wreck came from the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth: it carries the arms of the Ostrogski family. In the sixteenth century, the Ostrogski’s were a powerful and influential noble family, which owned large estates in Ukraine (the male line ended in 1620). The book in question must have come from their library.

Dutch journalists travelled to Warsaw, where they spoke with Polish historians about the Ostrogski’s and early modern Polish fashion: could the dress and kaftan belong to a family from the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, perhaps to descendants of the Ostrogski family? Their answer: it’s possible, since similar eastern-style kaftans were popular with noblemen, while noblewomen preferred western-style dresses. However, since there is no hard proof to support this theory, it is merely conjecture. Still, the book cover carrying the arms of the Ostrogski’s is exciting in itself, since it shows that books from their collection travelled across seventeenth-century Europe, and also reached the Northern Netherlands. Now, the book cover is part of one of the most fascinating maritime treasures ever discovered.

A recent documentary series about the wreck is nominated for the prestigious Nipkowschijf award. Dutch journalists also recorded a podcast about their investigations. See this link for the episode about the Ostrogski’s and Polish fashion.

The image shows the book cover with the arms of the Ostrogski family. The photograph was made by historian dr. Janet Dickinson, who published this article on the various book covers found in the wreck.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 45.

390 years ago, in May 1633, the Polish ambassador Jan Zawadzki visited the Northern Netherlands. In the name of King Władysław IV Waza, who had recently been elected to rule the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, Zawadzki addressed the Dutch States-General. He sought to convince the Dutch to side with Poland against Sweden, which he accused of threatening Dutch-Polish trade relations. In addition, he argued that an alliance between Poland and the United Provinces would bolster their ‘ancient friendship and trade relations’. His Latin speech was even published in Dutch translation. Unfortunately for the Polish diplomat, however, the States-General were displeased with the titles Zawadzki gave to them, and they answered only in general terms.

Nevertheless, the Polish account of Zawadzki’s mission, possibly written by a secretary, suggests that the ambassador was fascinated by the Dutch Republic, especially Amsterdam. The text states:

‘The beautiful buildings of this city, the canals that cut through it, the streets lined with linden trees, the forests of ship masts, the rich merchant storehouses, the ubiquitous traffic, activity and work, and their reward: abundant wealth, pleasantly enraptured our spirits and bid us to say with a sigh: if only we could see all this back home!’

The account also mentions several popular tourist attractions in Amsterdam, such as homes for the elderly, the trade exchange and the headquarters of the East India Company (VOC), where foreigners could marvel at exotic goods and spices. As such, the account mirrors many other seventeenth-century texts about Amsterdam, written in prose and poetry by local and foreign authors alike, who thus created a canonical image of the city.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 44.

Have you been to the Vermeer exhibition at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam? The exhibition includes 28 of the 37 known paintings by the 17^th-century Dutch master: the largest collection of Johannes Vermeer’s works ever brought together in a museum. His paintings have long since captured peoples’ imaginations, however.  For example, several Polish poets have been inspired to write verses about Vermeer’s works. Two well-known authors who did so are Adam Czerniawski and Adam Zagajewski. The latter wrote a number of poems about or featuring Vermeer, such as “Vermeer’s Little Girl”, which describes the famous “Girl with a Pearl Earring”.

Moreover, both Czerniawski and Zagajewski composed poems about Vermeer’s “View of Delft”: a panorama of the city where the painter lived and worked, made in ca. 1660-1661. Czerniawski’s poem dates from 1969. It begins as follows:

“In The Hague there is a view of Delft,
In The Hague there is a perspective of Delft,
All it takes to see Delft,
Is to reach the first floor of the Mauritshuis,
Where the panorama is not obstructed by
A hill or a broad chestnut tree.”

The poet speaks of two views of Delft: the modern one, which is made of “steel and glass”, and the 17^th-century one, captured on canvas. In the rest of the poem, Czerniawski considers his own relationship with – and desire to witness – these two “Delfts”, and tries to describe both the painting and the city itself.

The poem by Zagajewski dates from 1983. It is much shorter:

“Houses, waves, clouds, and shadows
(dark-blue roofs, brown bricks):
at last, you have become but a glance.

The uncontrolled, calm eyes of objects,
glittering with blackness.

You will outlive our admiration, our tears,
and our noisy, despicable wars.”

In but a few sentences, Zagajewski presents the painting as an everlasting ideal, which observes the ever-changing, cruel world.

We wish a lovely time to those of you who are fortunate enough to have a ticket for the exhibition, where you can see Vermeer’s “View of Delft” for yourselves. Don’t worry if you didn’t get a ticket: you can see the painting in the Mauritshuis in The Hague after the exhibition in Amsterdam ends. And who knows, maybe you will be inspired to write your own poems!

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 43.

Back in the 16^th-century Netherlands, the high and mighty often used waterproof stoneware jugs, which were practical and fancy signs of wealth. A few years ago, during the construction of a parking garage in Delft, an example was found which has a fascinating link to Poland: it is decorated with the portrait of King Stephen Báthory, who ruled the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth from 1576 to 1586, as well as with several coats of arms, including those of Royal (Polish) Prussia and the city of Gdańsk. Moreover, it is dated 1586 and carries the maker’s initials: JEM, which points to Jan Emens Mennicken. Mennicken was a prolific potter from the Duchy of Limburg, in modern-day Belgium. His stoneware jugs were of the highest quality, and can be found in multiple museums.

Since the jug was apparently made for the Polish market, it is unclear how it ended up in Delft. Perhaps it was bought by a Dutch merchant in Gdańsk? Another intriguing explanation has to do with diplomacy. In 1586, the year of the jug’s production, Báthory sent an ambassador to the Netherlands. This Krzysztof Głoskowski was meant to persuade the Dutch to stop their revolt against the Spanish Habsburgs. He delivered a Latin speech before the States-General, which at that time assembled in… Delft! The exchange of gifts was an important part of diplomatic practice. It is possible, though uncertain, that Mennicken was commissioned by the Polish court and/or the city of Gdańsk to produce the jug, after which Głoskowski may have offered it to the States-General as a token of friendship, a reminder of the importance of Gdańsk as a trading partner of the Dutch and a symbol of Báthory’s authority.

A 3D reconstruction of the jug can be viewed here.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 42.

In late January 1737, a large part of Poland was hit by a flood and subsequent famine. A severe storm broke dykes along the Vistula and Nogat rivers, and the water covered vast tracts of land between Gdańsk and Toruń. Cities and villages were destroyed, people and cattle perished, and farmlands were made unusable. The Dutch historian Jan Wagenaar described the terrible calamity which had befallen the Poles. He tried to arouse sympathy and stimulate his Dutch readers to donate money for the victims, many of whom were left homeless and died of hunger or disease. In some parts of the country, the water receded only after the summer.

The following year, Wagenaar published an account of the help sent from the Dutch Republic to Poland. After pleas from Poland, merchants from Holland with commercial ties to Gdańsk and other Polish towns had initiated a relief campaign. According to Wagenaar, they collected around 15.000 Dutch guilders: a considerable sum for that time. The money was transferred to Gdańsk and then distributed by ministers of diverse denominations: Catholics, Calvinists, Mennonites and Lutherans. Wagenaar claimed that the Dutch relief campaign saved thousands of lives, and described how Polish farmers from various towns were given bread, beans and all kinds of cereal, for which they were extremely grateful: “Many did not know that there was a place called Holland and were astounded to receive help from a land of which they had never even heard before. Others called it a miracle of divine providence that they now obtained grain from a land towards which they used to send their own abundant produce.” This final comment is a reference to the grain traditionally exported from Poland, which was vital to the economy of Holland since medieval times.

The Dutch relief campaign of 1737 was a novelty, because it bridged different religious groups: previous campaigns were organised only for members of the same denomination. People in the Dutch Republic felt solidarity with the Poles and voluntarily supported the victims, no matter their religious beliefs. They thought that God would reward their generosity, and possibly hoped that Poland’s swift recovery would benefit the grain trade.

*I originally wrote this post for the social media outlets of the Dutch Embassy in Poland. This was post no. 41. It is based on a forthcoming academic article by historian Adriaan Duiveman.