This place is beautiful indeed. The old and majestic castle stands upon a hill above the Vistula, and commands a most admirable view over picturesque villages, forests, and the winding river. The halls and rooms are innumerable, the furniture rich and elegant, and the gallery of portraits is said to be the finest in the country. But my room seems to me the most charming of all; it is in a high tower, and it makes me feel like the heroine of a novel. From each of the three windows is a different view, each beautiful, but I sit most near the window looking towards the little palace, the progress of the work going on there interests me so very much. On the walls of my room is Olympus painted in fresco. "Venus lui manquait, mais il la possède maintenant," said Prince Martin, gallantly, when he brought me in.
Sunday, March 3.
I rose before the sun, and I must have looked like a ghost when I glided through the large halls, on my way to the gallery of portraits.
The Prince Martin, following the example of our ancestors, who kept with great care the pictures of their most illustrious members, and the memory of their great deeds, determined to gather all such souvenirs of the Lubomirski family in one room. He brought from Italy a skilful painter, also called in the help of a very learned man, who knew all about the Polish history, and after long researches and debates the plan was carried out in 1746; as the inscription above the door testifies. The princess says it is a pity that all these portraits and pictures are not painted in oil on canvas instead of "in fresco," as they never can be removed, and it is more difficult to take care of them. In any case the gallery, as it is now, is superb.
Yesterday after dinner our host brought us in and explained the meaning of the large paintings, relating the facts and the anecdotes about them. It was so interesting that I decided to get up very early this morning, before the house was awake, and come here alone to look again at the pictures, and write about some of them.
The first picture represents the three brothers Lubomirski, young and handsome men, who in the presence of the king, and many lords and witnesses, are dividing the inheritance of their father. Two scriveners are writing the deed upon a roll of parchment, and this document, dating from 1088, was the first historical title-deed known in Poland; it is still in existence, and the family are very proud of it.
After that picture, comes a row of portraits of stately men and great warriors, which I must pass over. Then I see a painting representing a chapel, where, before a miraculous image of the Virgin, a baby is being weighed, and the other scale is covered with gold pieces. One Prince Lubomirski, being childless, made a vow that if a son were born to him he would offer to the Church its weight in gold, and he kept his promise.
Farther on, I see a nun on her deathbed, with a halo round her head; sick people touch her garments and are healed; it was Sophy Lubomirska, who in the sixteenth century was renowned for her sanctity.
On the other wall is represented an amusing scene: Among young damsels at work stands a pretty little girl in a very uncomfortable position, as her foot is tied to the leg of the table. Her aunt, who has punished her thus for some mischief, is sternly looking at her. But the naughty little Christina has grown to be a young lady, and in the following picture we see her kneeling before the altar in her room, her beautiful eyes full of ecstasy; she has just pricked her finger with a golden needle, and gathering her blood on a pen, she writes down her determination always to lead a saintly life. She kept her word; married to Felixe Potocki, she was as famous for her virtues as for her beauty. All her accomplishments, her rare talent for music, her great skill in handiwork, were given to God's service. She adorned His churches, composed and sang verses to His glory, founded several convents, and her charitable deeds were innumerable. Her own confessor wrote her life and called her a saint.
Next come the portraits of her two brothers. First, Stanislaus, an eminent writer, surnamed the "Polish Solomon," is surrounded with books, and Fame crowns him with a laurel wreath. The second, Jerome, famous for his valor, is represented with the King Sobieski, when after the victory near Vienna they are examining the flag of Mahomet, captured from the Turks; in the distance the Polish army can be seen occupying the Turkish camps.