Jan Czeczot: Polish Poet & Belarusian Pioneer
Having penned an extensive collection of Belarusian folk songs and pioneered the codifying of the Belarusian language, Jan Czeczot is seen as a crucial figure in Polish-Belarusian ethnography. Still, this Polish poet remains somewhat obscure despite a meaningful impact on Polish Romanticism and providing the lyrics for one of Poland’s most popular classic songs. Who was he?
Daguerrotype of Adam Mickiewicz, 1842, photo: courtesy of the Musuem of Literature/East News The poet and writer Jan Czeczot (1796-1847) is usually remembered in Polish culture for two things: for pioneering ethnography through preserving Belarussian folklore, and describing the Belarusian language; and secondly for his friendship with Adam Mickiewicz, one of Poland’s most important Romantic writers. The friends were said to have been as close as the mythical Orestes and Pylades and Czeczot is known to have influenced Mickiewicz’s writing by editing some of his biggest works and even sparking his interest in folklore.
More of a ‘writer’s writer’ than a widely known author himself, Czeczot isn’t really considered an eminent poet. His non-poetic literary exploits, which include prose and translations, aren’t usually listed among works of the highest import either. Maybe that’s why he fell into obscurity and is sometimes dubbed ‘The Forgotten One’. After World War II, however, literature experts began, yet again, to acknowledge his role in shaping Mickiewicz’s style and preserving Belarusian culture.
Curiously, despite Czeczot not being well-known as a writer, one of the many folk songs he penned became a greatly popular Polish tune. In 1846, the valued composer Stanisław Moniuszko authored Prząśniczka (Weaver), a song with lyrics by Jan Czeczot, which went on to become one of Poland’s most recognised classic songs. Moniuszko published the charming Weaver in his Śpiewnik Domowy (Household Songbook) which included songs for solo voice and piano. People often sung these songs at home and they became very well-known indeed. But Czeczot’s input to the Household Songbook (he also provided lyrics for a number of its other songs) was often omitted:
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Czeczot’s involvement in Moniuszko’s ‘Household Songbook’ is a thing that’s little known, even in contemporary musical literature.
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Z Mickiewiczem pod rękę czyli Życie i twórczość Jana Czeczota, a 1989 book by Stanisław Świrko
Peasant weddings, harvest festivals & funerals
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A graphic by Alojzy Misierowicz showing the town of Navahrudak, 1877, photo: National Musuem in Warsaw
Jan Czeczot was born on 24th June 1796 in the village of Małuszyce, near Lake Świteź, in today’s Belarus. His parents were impoverished Polish nobleman who quite probably spoke both Polish and Belarusian – or proto-Belarusian, to be more precise, as the language was still forming back then. Before being partitioned in the years 1772–1795, the region used to be part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, afterwards becoming part of the Russian Empire.
Despite having little means, Czeczot received an education and around 1809 he moved to the town of Navahrudak where he became a student at the local Dominican Collegium. In this multi-cultural town, with its two Catholic churches, two Orthodox-Uniate churches, synagogue and Tatar mosque, the young Czeczot befriended Adam Mickiewicz, a fellow student at the collegium. Here’s how Ignacy Domeyko, a geologist and acquaintance of Mickiewicz, described their friendship:
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Despite having little means, Czeczot received an education and around 1809 he moved to the town of Navahrudak where he became a student at the local Dominican Collegium. In this multi-cultural town, with its two Catholic churches, two Orthodox-Uniate churches, synagogue and Tatar mosque, the young Czeczot befriended Adam Mickiewicz, a fellow student at the collegium. Here’s how Ignacy Domeyko, a geologist and acquaintance of Mickiewicz, described their friendship:
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It was as if they shared a soul (…). Adam was always bright and had a magnetic personality (…). His friend since school, Czeczot, the only one who could nag, warn and reprove Adam, was of an oddly gentle and humble character and countenance.
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From a 1869 letter from Ignacy Domeyko to Bohdan Zaleski
According to Domeyko, during their time at Navahrudak the two friends ‘observed bazaars, fairs, parish festivals, attended peasant weddings, harvest festivals and funerals.’ After completing the collegium, both of them decided to further their education at the then flourishing University of Vilnius.
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A graphic by Jean-Baptiste Arnout showing the city of Vilnius, 1850, photo: National Musuem in Warsaw
In Vilnius, Mickiewicz studied the humanities whereas Czeczot, who enrolled in 1816, the law. They both became involved with the Philomaths, an underground, pro-independence student organisation, of which Domeyko was also a member. The society sought to ‘improve and promote science and citizenship in Poland, and most importantly bring their country back to the map of Europe’. But apart from promoting grand visions for the future, the society was also, simply, a group of bright, young friends who held parties, discussed their poems and infatuations. To Czeczot, who was constantly experiencing financial troubles and was hopelessly in love with Zosia Malewska (the rector’s daughter) the society was, according to the folklore expert Stanisław Świrko, ‘consolation and the main point in life.’
Already in his student days, Czeczot’s poetry exhibited a fascination with folklore. For example, the poem he wrote using stylised Belarusian on the occasion of Tomasz Zan’s name day is said to have referenced traditional folk wishes. Here’s one of the verses:
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Be as healthy as a fox
Like a horse happy in toil
Let your writings and talks
Be like honour’s voice
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Translated by the editor
During his time in Vilnius, Czeczot was also known to have frowned upon the lavish lifestyles of the upper classes and their lack of concern for the, often harsh, fate of commoners. His friendship with Mickiewicz was progressing (as evidenced by the letters they exchanged) and the latter eventually asked Czeczot to edit his – now iconic – poetic drama Forefathers’ Eve parts II and IV, published in 1823. Czeczot helped clean up the manuscript and introduced the many changes its author kept coming up with during the publication process. He also managed to make it so the text passed through the Tsarist censors hands without any major corrections. Świrko writes that Czeczot’s edit of Dziady was ‘without a doubt a great contribution to their author and Polish literature.’
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Świteź, a painting by Julian Fałat, ca. 1883-1884, photo: Krzysztof Wilczyński/National Museum in Warsaw
Czeczot is also credited with prompting Mickiewicz to seek for inspiration in folklore. His ballad Świteź is based on local legends from his native region of Lake Świteź and tells of a lost city that once stood in place of the lake. At the time, an ethnographic interest in folk tales and beliefs was rather uncommon and Czeczot can be considered a pioneer in this regard. Although it’s uncertain when Czeczot wrote his ballad (probably 1819), it surely predates Mickiewicz’s ballad under the same title, which retells the lost city’s story. We know this as fact because Mickiewicz asked for Czeczot’s ballad in a letter, before writing his own version. Czeczot didn’t mind that Mickiewicz retold the story, since he was both a selfless friend and openly admitted that Mickiewicz was the greater poet.
Mickiewicz’s 1822 volume Ballads and Romances containing his Świteź and filled with folk inspirations became a pivotal work and was dubbed ‘the beginning of Polish Romanticism’. Czeczot’s role in shaping it is worth remembering.
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Yakut Yurts in the Wintertime, created by Leopold Niemirowski, 1856, photo: National Museum in Warsaw
The era of the Philomaths was put to an end when the Tsarist authorities learned of the society’s existence. Its members were incarcerated in 1823 and accused of ‘disseminating revolutionary ideas’. Czeczot himself received one of the harshest sentences as investigators had charged him with anti-government activity, based on a notebook of his they had secured. He was exiled to Russia where he was imprisoned for half a year. Mickiewicz was sentenced to exile as well, but on much better terms.
Before being sent away to Russia, Czeczot managed to pen numerous texts in confinement. These writings known collectively as his ‘prison works’ include folk songs and the autobiographic lament Obłąkany (Lost), considered one of his finest poems.
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Be happy – who said that? What blasphemy
Against God, who gave me this load so heavy
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Translated by the author
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A portrait of Washington taken between 1855 and 1860, photo: Library of Congress/wikipedia
By November 1824, Czeczot was imprisoned in the faraway Kyzyl, today the capital of the Tuva Republic. He was held there until 15th May 1825 and this episode strongly affected his health. He later recounted in a letter:
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The cold in this leaky and unfurnished place was at times so dreadful that I had to sit dressed as if for a wagon ride, in a fur coat, cloak, warm boots, gloves and a cap. (…) Hadn’t it been for that inner fever that burns one’s bowels, I would’ve turned to ice.
Czeczot also noted that the ‘Governor (…) ordered that I have neither a pen, nor inkwell nor paper.’
In the 1830s, he was finally no longer under police supervision and moved, through Moscow and Tver, to Torzhok. During these years, Czeczot remained active as a writer: he translated part of Washington Irving’s Sketch Book into Polish and wrote songs for his muse Zosia Malewska.
I’ve just remembered a song
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A peasant family in a village on the Neman river, taken between 1880 and 1885, from the collection of writer Eliza Orzeszkowa, photo: J. Sadowski/Mariusz Wideryński/National Museum in Warsaw
In 1833, Czeczot moved to the town of Lepiel in today’s Belarus where he got a job at the engineering office of the Berezina Canal. Although he was still pretty far away from home, this new location was much more familiar to him – before the partitions, the town was part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. Here, Czeczot began work on what is arguably his most important creation, Piosenki Wieśniacze (Peasant Songs). He went on to write six volumes of it, all collections of various folk songs of the former commonwealth.
The first volume was published in 1837 and includes songs from near the Neman river. The poet, however, adapted the folk originals to mimic literary language. Such practices were not uncommon in the pioneering times of Polish ethnography but, thankfully, Czeczot would not repeat this approach in the later volumes. Each edition contained songs from a particular area. In the introduction to the third volume, published in 1840, the author sheds a bit of light on how he collected certain texts:
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The common women are modest and timid, they’re too shy to recite their songs in front of a man (…). But they’ll recite before a kind damsel! Toward the damsel they run with joy saying: oh, I’ve just remembered another nice song.
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Front page of Jan Czeczot’s Peasant Songs, 1845, and notes for Weaver from Stanisaław Moniuszko’s Household Songbook, 1900, photo: Polona National Library
So Czeczot’s research was aided by local women of noble birth. The author goes on to thank them for their involvement, but, per their request, doesn’t mention their names.
Czeczot published the last three volumes in 1841, after his sentence was finally over. The Tsarist authorities ended his exile on account of his exceptional work for the engineering office (Czeczot even received a state decoration for devising a navigation system for the canal) and his health problems. After over seventeen years, Czeczot returned to his native area of Navahrudak. He became a librarian at Count Adam Chreptowicz’s residence in the village of Szczorse.
The most brilliant figure
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Jan Czeczot’s monument in the village of Rotnica, 1918, photo: Polona National Library
Of the six volumes of Peasant Songs, the last one, from 1846, is considered the most important. First of all, it contains a hundred authentic folk songs penned in Belarusian which most probably would’ve disappeared forever if not for Czeczot. These are divided into categories: wedding, Easter harvest, etc.
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Jan Huszcza, author of 1978’s ‘Antologia Poezji Białoruskiej’ (An Anthology of Belarusian Poetry) called Czeczot ‘the most brilliant figure in Polish-Belarusian literary relations. He saved thousands of peasant songs from oblivion’.
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Quote from Dla Obydwu Narodów: Rzecz o Janie Czeczocie, a 2011 article by Mirosław Grudzień
Secondly, in volume six, Czeczot gives a detailed description of the then-forming Belarusian language, presenting himself as a highly conscious linguist capable of comparisons to Croatian or Sanskrit. He discusses issues like Belarusian grammar and spelling, which at the time weren’t even codified yet, and also presents a number of Belarusian idioms and sayings. No wonder that today the book is seen as a priceless ethnographic source.
Sadly, Peasant Songs wasn’t met with high demand and didn’t help its author improve his, ever uneasy, financial situation. Among the few intrigued was the previously mentioned Stanisław Moniuszko, who wrote Czeczot asking for a selection of peasant songs to which he could compose music. Moniuszko ended up publishing several of Czeczot’s songs in various editions of his Household Songbook – Weaver becoming the most popular.
Unfortunately, Czeczot didn’t live to enjoy the popularity of his song. He died of tuberculosis on 11th August 1847, only a year after Weaver was composed. He was buried at a rural cemetery in the village of Rotnica in today’s Lithuania.
Mickiewicz, with whom Czeczot kept corresponding while in exile and who learned of his passing when living in Paris, wrote in a letter to Tomasz Zan:
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The news of Jan’s death, as you can imagine, unsettled me greatly. Around the time when he ceased to live, I was very often dreaming of him, always in the same manner: I always pictured that he came to the city where I now live, looking for me (…)
Author: Marek Kępa, Jan 2019
