Final Resting Places of the Last Generation of My Husband’s Family in Poland

In my last post, I discussed the final resting places for the last generation of my family to be buried in Poland. When I wrote it, two of my adult children were in the midst of a two-week trip to Poland, and I wanted them to have a sense of their ancestral origins, even if they’re not all that interested in genealogy. Although their time in Poland is nearly finished, I’d like to continue the story today with a discussion of my husband’s family, and their known, presumed, or hypothetical places of burial in Poland. As with the previous post, I’m taking a bit of advice from my husband, and starting with the oldest generation that my kids knew personally, or knew from family stories: their great-grandparents.

Grandpa Steve’s Family

My husband’s paternal grandfather, Stephan Szczepankiewicz, died in 1998, when my oldest son was still in preschool and my second son was just a toddler. Consequently, none of my kids really knew him, although he lives on in all the family stories. Figure 1 shows his pedigree chart.

Figure 1: Pedigree chart for my husband’s paternal grandfather, Stephan Szczepankiewicz. Blue squares represent people who died in the U.S., while red squares represent those who died in what is now Poland. Click image to enlarge.

Grandpa Steve’s parents were Michał/Michael Szczepankiewicz and his second wife, Agnes Wolińska, both of whom were Polish immigrants. Michael was born in 1873 in the village of Obrona in Konin County, in the Russian partition of Poland, to Wojciech Szczepankiewicz and his second wife, Anna (née Augustyniak), whose dates of death are unknown. Obrona belonged to the parish in Kleczew, and it may be that Wojciech and Anna are buried in the parish cemetery. However, this is somewhat speculative, pending further research.

Grandpa Steve’s mother, Agnes (née Wolińska) Szczepankiewicz, was born in 1888 in the town of Świecie in the Prussian partition of Poland. She was the daughter of Joseph Woliński and Tekla (née Bogacka) , who immigrated with their family to Buffalo, New York, in 1890. Joseph was the son of Antoni Woliński and Agnes (née Kozicka), but I know little about them besides their names. Joseph was born in the village of Kiełbasin in 1853, so I could hazard a guess that perhaps Antoni and Agnes are buried in the Kiełbasin parish cemetery, but that’s only a guess, pending further research.

Tekla (née Bogacka) Wolińska was the daughter of Józef/Joseph Bogacki and Apolonia (née Prusiecka) Bogacka. Apolonia was born circa 1822 and died in Buffalo in 1906, while Józef was born circa 1826 and died in Buffalo in 1919. According to the 1905 census, they’d been living in the U.S. for 16 years, suggesting an arrival circa 1889. The names of her parents were not recorded on her church burial record, and Joseph’s church burial record is not available online, so obtaining a copy of that, as well as copies of both of their death certificates, is on my to-do list. I have yet to delve into any Polish records for this family. Apolonia’s death record, as well as church records pertaining to her children, state that the family was from Chełmno, so I suppose earlier generations of the Bogacki and Prusiecki family might be buried there.

Grandma Angeline’s Family

My husband’s paternal grandmother, Angeline (née Skolimowski) Szczepankiewicz, died in 2004, so my sons have some memories of her. Her pedigree chart appears in Figure 2.

Figure 2: Pedigree chart for my husband’s paternal grandmother, Angeline (Skolimowska) Szczepankiewicz. Blue squares represent people who died in the U.S., while red squares represent those who died in what is now Poland. Click image to enlarge.

She was the daughter of Stanisław/Stanley and Helen (née Majczyk) Skolimowski. Stanley was born in the village of Garlino in Mława County in 1887, and was the son of Tadeusz and Marianna (née Kessling) Skolimowski, whose dates of death are unknown. They were known to be living in the village of Uniszki Zawadzki in 1904 when their youngest son, Czesław, was born, so perhaps they were still living there at the time of their deaths. The village of Uniszki Zawadzki belongs to the parish in Wieczfnia, so it’s possible that Tadeusz and Marianna were buried in the parish cemetery there.

Helena Majczyk was born in the village of Rostowa (Żuromin County) to Stanisław and Aniela (née Nowicka) Majczyk. Their dates of death are unknown; however, we could extrapolate again, and assume that they died in the same village in which they were living when their last identified child was born. That child was Czesław, who was born in 1905 in the village of Suwaki, about 8 km from Rostowa. Note that Czesław is merely Stanisław and Aniela’s youngest identified child: since Aniela was only about 36 when Czesław was born, it is likely that the couple had additional children born after him, who will be discovered in further research. Nevertheless, all the villages in which Stanisław and Aniela’s known children were born—Rostowa, Suwaki, and Bojanowa—belong to the parish in Gradzanowo Kościelne, so it’s plausible that Stanisław and Aniela might have been laid to rest in that parish cemetery.

Papa’s Family

My husband’s maternal grandfather was Henry Bartoszewicz, known as “Papa” to his grandchildren. He was the only one of my husband’s grandparents who was already deceased by the time I met my husband, but I’ve come to know him at least a little bit through all the family stories, which are known to my kids as well. Figure 3 shows his pedigree chart.

Figure 3: Pedigree chart for my husband’s maternal grandfather, Henry Bartoszewicz. Blue squares represent people who died in the U.S., while red squares represent those who died in what is now Poland. Click image to enlarge.

Henry was the son of Józef/Joseph Bartoszewicz and Katarzyna/Katherine (née Lewandowski/Levanduski). Both Joseph and Katherine were Polish immigrants from the Prussian partition, who came to the U.S. with their parents when they were very young. Joseph arrived with his family in 1890, at the age of about eight, while Katherine arrived in 1886, when she was two and a half years old.

Joseph was the son of Stefan/Stephen and Joanna (née Olszewska) Bartoszewicz. They were the parents of perhaps 12 children, about half of whom were born in Poland. More research needs to be done to better understand this family’s history, and I have yet to obtain a birth record for Joseph Bartoszewicz himself. Indexed birth records for Joseph’s known siblings indicate that the family lived in several villages (Kamionki, Zalesie, Smaruj, Brzeźno, and Łysomice) that were all located in Toruń County. However, these villages belong to four different parishes, and I have no further information regarding Stefan and Joanna’s places of birth and marriage, nor have their parents been identified. At this point, the best I can do is guess that my kids’ Bartoszewicz and Olszewski ancestors were buried somewhere in Toruń County.

Katherine Levanduski was the daughter of Stanisław “Edward” Lewandowski/Levanduski and his first wife, Marianna/Mary (née Woźniak). Edward was born in 1859 in the village of Szelejewo (Żnin County) to Michael Lewandowski and Elisabeth (née Radke or Rotka). Although precise dates of death are not yet known for Michael and Elisabeth, the record of marriage for Stanisław/Edward and Marianna stated that the groom’s father died in Szelejewo, and his mother died in Gutfelde (known today as Złotniki Kujawskie). Szelejewo belonged to the parish in Gąsawa, so it’s probable that Michael Lewandowski is buried in the parish cemetery there. Gutfelde/Złotniki belonged to the Catholic parish in Rogowo, so it’s likely that Elisabeth is buried there.

Mary (née Woźniak) Lewandowska was the daughter of Jakub Woźniak and Marianna Sobczak, who were still alive at the time of their daughter’s marriage in 1882. Not much is known about this family, apart from the fact that Mary was born in Brudzyń, and her parents were living in Wola (aka Wola Czewujewska) in 1882, per Mary’s marriage record. Wola belonged to the Catholic parish in Ottensund, presently known as Izdebno, so we can speculate that perhaps Jakub and Marianna were buried in that parish cemetery. However, preliminary research indicates that the parish in Izdebno fell into disrepair and is no longer extant. It was replaced by a new parish founded in 1976 in Czewujewo, with a parish cemetery established in 1977, according to information found here. However, the FamilySearch catalog includes records from Izdebno up until 1952, which suggests that the parish was still in existence at that time, so burial records for Jakub and Marianna should be found in this parish. Despite this fact, there’s no evidence of an old Catholic cemetery in Izdebno, based on Google Maps, and the Wikipedia article on Izdebno mentions only a disused Evangelical (Lutheran) cemetery. Once again, further research is needed, but we can suppose for now that Jakub and Marianna Woźniak might be buried in Izdebno.

Grandma Barth’s Family

My husband’s maternal grandmother, Joan (née Drajem) Barth, died in 2008, so all of my children remember her. Her pedigree is shown in Figure 4.

Figure 4: Pedigree of my husband’s maternal grandmother, Joan (Drajem) Barth. Blue squares represent people who died in the U.S., while red squares represent those who died in what is now Poland. Click image to enlarge.

Grandma was the daughter of Albert and Mary (née Kantowski) Drajem, both of whom were born in the U.S. to parents who were Polish immigrants from the Prussian partition. Albert was born in Buffalo on 8 April 1890 to Augustyn and Agnieszka (née Jamrozik) Drajem, who were married in Kucharki, in Plezew County, on 1 February 1890. So, although the exact date for their arrival in the U.S. has not been determined, it must have been in February or March of 1890, and Agnieszka would have been heavily pregnant during their voyage.

Augustyn was the son of Józef and Marianna (née Kaszyńska) Drajem, or Draheim. who were married in 1850 in Niestronno (Mogilno County). Józef Draheim’s precise date of death is unknown; however, he was born 30 January 1822, and he was reported to have been 50 years old at the time of his death, according to a life insurance application filled out by his son, Wojciech. This suggests a date of death circa 1872. At the time of Wojciech’s birth in 1862, Józef and his family were living in the village of Mielno (Mogilno County). If we suppose that Józef was still living there ten years later, when he died, then his death should be recorded in Niestronno parish—the parish to which the village of Mielno belonged. It’s probable that he was buried in the Niestronno parish cemetery.

Marianna (née Kaszyńska) Drajem immigrated to Buffalo after her husband’s death, where she died in 1905. She was the daughter of Rozalia (__) Kaszyńska and an unidentified father. (I wrote about my research into Marianna previously.) With so little known about Rozalia and her husband, it’s impossible to guess where they were buried, so I won’t even speculate. Similarly, little is known about the parents of Agnieszka (née Jamrozik) Drajem, Jan Jamrozik and Rozalia (née Juszczak). The Poznań Project indicates that they were married in Kucharki in 1856, so it’s possible that they were buried in that parish cemetery, but there’s not a lot of information, currently, upon which to base this assumption.

Mary Kantowski was the daughter of Jan/John Kąt/Kantowski and Marianna/Mary Kończal who immigrated to Buffalo circa 1886. Jan was the son of Piotr Kąt and Franciszka (née Konwińska). Piotr died 8 March 1883 in the village of Klotyldowo (Żnin County)—a village which belongs to the parish in Łabiszyn. Thus, it’s probable that he was buried in that parish cemetery.

Franciszka (née Konwińska) Kantowska immigrated to Buffalo with her children after the death of her husband. She remarried in 1887 to Jan Wasilewski, and she died in Buffalo in 1921. She was the daughter of Dionizy Konwiński and Katarzyna (née Kruszka), who married in 1812 in Słabomierz (Żnin County). Dionizy died on 19 December 1852 in Wolwark (Nakło County). The village of Wolwark belongs to the parish in Szubin, and it’s likely that the cemetery there was Dionizy’s final resting place. Although Katarzyna (née Kruszka) Konwińska’s precise date of death is unknown, all of her children were born in the village of Wolwark, so it’s reasonable to suppose that she, too, might be buried in the cemetery in Szubin with her husband.

Mary (née Kończal) Kantowski was the daughter of Franciszek Kończal and Anna Kubiak. Anna (née Kubiak) Kończal immigrated to Buffalo to live with her children after the death of her husband, and she died in Buffalo in 1922. Nothing further is known about Franciszek’s date or place of death, or the identities of Anna’s parents. However, Anna and Franciszek were married in Łabiszyn, so Franciszek may have died there.

For your viewing pleasure, here is another map which marks all the places discussed in this post, as well as those identified in my first post (my own Polish ancestors).

Conclusions

Analyzing my genealogy data for the purpose of identifying the most recent generation of ancestors who died in Poland has really highlighted all the work that remains to be done on my husband’s family. The data also serve to illustrate the statistical trend of earlier immigration among German nationals (including Poles from the Prussian partition) relative to Russian nationals (including Poles from the Russian partition). And, while it’s impossible to draw any firm conclusions about cultural practices in elder care from these data, I was intrigued by the fact that five of my husband’s 3x-great-grandparents emigrated—all from the Prussian partition— while only one of my 3x-great-grandparents emigrated, from the Austrian partition. Most of these 3x-great-grandparents were over the age of 50 when they migrated, and from this decision, we can infer a preference for uprooting their lives and traveling with their children, rather than remaining in their homeland and living with the families of their siblings or non-emigrant children.

Was that decision influenced by family culture? Was it the result of differing living conditions within each partition of Poland? Are there genetic factors that influence one’s willingness to migrate? I’ve often pondered these questions over the past decade, when dealing with the challenges of long-distance elder care in my own family.

While I may never have definitive answers to these questions, it’s certainly been intriguing to examine my family through the lens of ancestors who died in Poland.

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2022

Edited on 19 December 2022 to include current featured image, which was inadvertently omitted when blog post was originally published.

Overview of Vital Records in Poland: Part III: Additional Examples and Observations

In my previous two posts, I gave some historical background about the evolution of vital records keeping in Poland, and about the implications of those practices for researchers today, seeking records of their ancestors.  Today, I’d like to provide some examples of the kinds of records you might expect to see from the various partitions and from different time periods, to give you an idea of what you might expect to encounter in your own research.

Examples from Prussian Poland

I’ll start off with a couple of examples from the Prussian partition, and a little confession: Although my husband has ancestors from Prussian Poland, and although I have every intention of researching those ancestors at some point, I haven’t done much research in this area yet.  Therefore, I don’t have a huge wealth of examples to offer, but here are a couple.  Figure 1 shows a Catholic baptismal record from 1858 for Stanislaus (Stanisław in Polish) Lewandoski,also known as Edward Levanduski, my husband’s great-great-grandfather, about whom I wrote previously.

Figure 1:  Baptismal record from Gąsawa parish for Stanislaus Lewandoski [sic], born 29 October 1859.1stanislaus-lewandowski-1859-p-1-crop

The record is in columnar form, and column headings, from left to right, tell us the number of the birth record, the year, day and month of the birth, the place of birth, date of baptism and child’s name, the name of the priest who baptized the child,  the parents’ names, father’s occupation, and then additional information on godparents’ names (cut off in this image).  The record is written in Latin.  Unfortunately, no information is given on the parents’ ages.

Figures 2a and 2b show a civil marriage record from Kucharki from 1890 for my husband’s great-great-grandparents, Augustyn and Agnieszka Drajem.2

Figure 2a:  Civil marriage record from Kucharki for August Drajem and Agnieszka Jamrozik, 1 February 1890, p. 1.2august-draheim-and-agnieszka-jamrozik-1890-p-1

Figure 2b:  Civil marriage record from Kucharki for August Drajem and Agnieszka Jamrozik, 1 February 1890, p. 2.2augustyn-draheim-and-agnieszka-jamrozik-1890-p-2

As we would expect, the record is in German, and the translation, kindly provided by Johann Kargl in the Facebook group “Genealogy Translations,” is as follows:

“Kucharki 1st February 1890
1. Before the undersigned registrar appeared the farm servant August Draheim, personally known, Catholic, born on 25 July 1866 in Mielno, county Mogilno, living in Kucharki, son of the deceased master tailor Josef Draheim and his wife Marianne, nee Kaszynska, living in America
2. the unmarried maiden Agnes Jamrozik, personally known, Catholic, born on 9 January 1865 in Kucharki, county Kleschen, living in Kucharki, daughter of the innkeeper Johann Jamrozik and his wife Rosalie, nee Juszczak, living in Kucharki.
As witnesses appeared:
3. The innkeeper Jakob Tomalak, personally known, 60 yers old, living in Kucharki
4. the innkeeper Adalbert (Wojciech) Szlachetka, personally known, 48 years old, living in Kucharki

read, approved and signed
August Draheim Agnieszka Draheim, nee Jamrozik
Jakob Tomalak
Wojciech Szlachetka
The registrar
signed Grzegorzewski

Kucharki, 8 February 1890
(signature)”

Notice that the record was created on a fill-in-the-blank form, with all the standard boilerplate text preprinted, so translating these civil records becomes a matter of learning to read a relatively small amount of German script.  In contrast to the brief church book entry, this record contains a lot of wonderful genealogical details, including the precise birthdate and birth place of the bride and groom, occupations and ages of the witnesses, and more.

For those of you who might be panicking and thinking,  “But I can’t read German!” help is on the way.  The very best translation guides that I have found for genealogy are written by Jonathan D. Shea and William F. Hoffman.  Their “In Their Words” series of genealogical translation guides encompasses 3 volumes to date, Volume I:  Polish, Volume II:  Russian, and Volume III:  Latin.  Volume IV:  German is currently in the works and will hopefully be out very soon.  I cannot praise these books highly enough.  These are the books that are constantly lying around the house, never making it back to the bookshelf, because I’m always referring to one or another of them for something.  I can’t wait for their German book to be published so I can learn to read these records for myself.  In the meantime, there’s always the Genealogy Translations group on Facebook, if you (or I) need assistance.

Examples from Russian Poland

In Russian Poland, the standard Napoleonic format existed from 1808-1825, followed by a modified format that was used from 1826 through the 20th century. So a civil death record from 1936 (Figure 3) looks much the same as a civil death record from 1838 (Figure 4).

Figure 3:  Death record from Budy Stare for Marianna Zielińska who died 4 April 1936.3marianna-zielinska-death-1936

Translation:  “Budy Stare.  It happened in Młodzieszyn on the 4th day of April 1936 at 8:00 in the morning.  They appeared, Stanisław Wilanowski, age 40, farmer of Mistrzewice, and Kazimierz Tomczak, farmer of Juliopol, age 26, and stated that, on this day today, at 5:00 in the morning, in Budy Stare, died Marianna née Kalota Zielińska, widow, age 79, born and residing with her sister in Budy Stare, daughter of the late Roch and Agata née Kurowska, farmers.  After visual confirmation of the death of Marianna Zielińska, this document was read aloud to the witnesses but signed only by us.  Pastor of the parish of Młodzieszyn actiing as Civil Registrar.”

Figure 4:   Death record from Kowalewo-Opactwo for Wojciech Grzeszkiewicz [aka Grzesiak], who died 25 April 1838.4Wojciech Grzeszkiewicz death.jpg

Translation:  “Kowalewo.  It happened in the village of Kowalewo on the 15th/27th day of April 1838 at 10:00 in the morning.  They appeared, Stanisław Grzeszkiewicz, shepherd, age 31, father of the deceased, and Jan Radziejewski, land-owning farmer, age 40, both of Kowalewo, and stated to us that, on the 13th/25th of the current month and year, at 4:00 in the afternoon, died in Kowalewo, likewise born there in house number two, Wojciech Grzeszkiewicz, son of the aforementioned Stanisław and Jadwiga née Dąbrowska, having one year of age.  All persons mentioned in this Act are of the Catholic religion.  After visual confirmation of the death of Wojciech, this document was read aloud to the witnesses and was signed.”

Since records from all villages within a parish were kept in the same book in Russian Poland, we see the name of the village where the event took place inscribed in the margin, next to the record number.  So in Figure 4, the death occurred in Budy Stare, but was recorded by the priest in the Catholic parish in Młodzieszyn.  When you compare the translations of these two records, you see that there’s not much difference in the format.  It’s pretty stable across 102 years and 120 miles in these examples.  That’s even true during the period from about 1868 until 1918, when records from Russian Poland were required to be kept in Russian.  Take a look at this death record from Mistrzewice in 1897, for my 3x-great-grandmother, Antonina (née Ciećwierz) Grzegorek (Figure 5):5

Figure 5:  Death record from Mistrzewice for Antonina Grzegorek, who died 21 March 1897.5antonina-grzegorek-death-1897-crop

Translation:  “Mistrzewice.  It happened in the village of Mistrzewice on the 11th/23rd day of March 1897th year at 12:00 at noon. They appeared, Józef Grzegorek, farmer, age 47, and Wawrzyniec Wilanowski, farmer, age 38, residents of Mistrzewice, and stated that, on the 9th/21st day of March of the present year, at 1:00 am [literally, “in the first hour of the night”], died in the village of Mistrzewice, Antonina Grzegorek, farm wife, age 59, born in Mistrzewice, daughter of Jan and Katarzyna, the spouses Ciećwierz. She leaves after herself her widower husband, Ludwik Grzegorek, residing in the village of Mistrzewice. After visual confirmation of the death of Antonina Grzegorek, this document was read aloud to those present and was signed.”

The style of this record is very much the same as in the previous examples.  This is good news for those who are interested in learning to translate vital records, and it suggests a potential research strategy:  If the prospect of translating Russian records is intimidating,  try to trace back before 1868, and work on the records written in Polish first.  This worked really well for me.  My first foray into vital records from Poland occurred when I began researching the family of my great-grandmother Weronika Grzesiak.  She was born in 1876 in a village within Russian Poland, so her birth record was written in Russian, along with the birth records for most of her siblings. I took one look at the page and thought it was hopeless. However, I knew her parents were married about 1865, back when the records were still written in Polish.  I decided to look for their marriage record first, and then research earlier generations of the family tree.  Starting out with those Polish records gave me a chance to familiarize myself with the grammatical structure of Slavic languages and the format of the vital records, and eventually I gained enough confidence to tackle that Russian cursive.

There are some good translations aids out there, some of which I shared previously.  However, if you’re going to get serious about learning to translate Polish and Russian vital records comfortably, then you really need to get copies of Shea and Hoffman’s translation guides that I mentioned at the beginning of this post. I know quite a few people — native English speakers — who never studied Polish or Russian formally, but have nonetheless taught themselves to read vital records in those languages, and it’s thanks to Shea and Hoffman.

Examples from Austrian Poland

In contrast to the relatively stable format found in records from Russian Poland, Austrian records seem to become progressively more informative throughout the 19th century, to a greater extent than is true for the other partitions.  In this first example (Figure 6) from 1843, we see the typical columnar format that was prescribed for both church and civil records at this time:6

Figure 6:  Marriage record from Kołaczyce for Franciszek  Łącki and Magdalena Bulgewiczowa, 3 August 1834.6franciscus-lacki-marriage2

Column headings, from left to right, tell us the month and date of the wedding, the house numbers of the bride and groom and who is moving in with whom.  In this case, “de 33 ad 84” suggests that after the marriage, the groom will be moving from his house, number 33, to the bride’s house, number 84.  The groom’s name and occupation (“figulus,” i.e. potter) is given, and check marks in the appropriate columns tell us that he was Catholic and a widower.  The “Aetas” column tells us that he was 46 years old.  Similarly, the bride was a 35-year-old Catholic widow named Magdalena Bulgewicz, widow of the late Dominik.  Although the standard nominative form of Magdalena’s married name was Bulgewicz, the form used here, “Bulgewiczowa,” describes a married woman of the Bulgewicz family.  Her maiden name is not provided.  Additional information includes the names and social position of the witnesses, and the name of the priest who performed the marriage.

In contrast, this slightly later record from 18617 in the same parish (Figure 7) includes all the same information as the earlier record, but also includes the names of the parents of the bride and groom (boxed in red) and provides a bit of a description about them (“oppidario,” meaning “townsperson”).

Figure 7:  Marriage record from Kołaczyce for Jakub Łącki and Anna Ptaszkiewicz, 26 November 1861.7jacobus-lacki-marriage2

Disappointingly, this early marriage record from Kołaczyce from 17507 (Figure 8) shows relatively little information.

Figure 8:  Marriage record from Kołaczyce for Stanisław Niegos and Teresa Szaynowszczonka.8stanislaw-niegos-and-teresa-szajnowska-1750

In translation, this reads, “On this same day, I who am named above, blessed and confirmed a marriage contract between Stanislaus Niegos and Teresa Szaynowszczonka, having been preceded by three banns and with no canonical impediments standing in the way, in the presence of witnesses Casimir Rączka and Joannes Dystanowicz, all of Kołaczyce.”  The form of the bride’s name used here, “Szaynowszczonka,” indicates an unmarried woman of the Szaynowski family, which would be rendered “Szajnowska” in modern Polish.

It helps to remember that this record predates the requirement for church records to perform double-duty as civil records for the Austrian authorities.  Therefore, the priest’s only purpose in keeping it was to fulfill the obligations imposed upon him by the Roman Ritual.  Since the Church had no interest in the addresses, ages, or occupations of the individuals mentioned in the record, that kind of information does not appear.  In any case, finding a marriage record from 1750 for one’s Polish ancestors is actually pretty respectable, which brings us to my next point.

A Word About Early Records…..

Don’t expect too much from early records, and by “early,” I’m referring to Polish vital records for peasants, late-1600s to about 1750 records.  As is evident from the history, recognition of the importance of vital records developed gradually.  Perhaps this is why I have frequently found church records to be somewhat “spotty” in the late 1600s and early-to-mid 1700s.  By “spotty,” I mean that records that “ought” to be found in a particular parish in a given year just aren’t there.  It’s impossible to say for certain why this is, and in some of these cases, the event may have occurred in Parish B, despite evidence from other documents stating that it occured in Parish A.  But for whatever reason, it seems that priests became more conscientious about over time, as their responsibilities as record-keepers for the civilian authorities increased.  If you’re able to locate those early vital records, that’s a victory, but understand that there’s a chance the record will just not be there.

Poland’s complicated geopolitical history is reflected in her record-keeping practices, which can be confusing to the uninitiated.  The different languages in which the records are kept might be challenging, too.  However, the payoff comes in the satisfaction of being able to locate and read your ancestors’ story for yourself, as preserved by their paper trail.  I hope you’ve enjoyed this look at the history of Polish vital records, with some examples from each partition.  As always, I welcome feedback, including observations and insights based on your own research, so feel free to leave a note in the comments.  Happy researching!

Sources

Roman Catholic Church, Gąsawa parish (Gąsawa, Żnin, Poland), Księgi metrykalne, 1782-1960, Akta urodzeń 1847-1860, 1859, births, #73, record for Stanislaus Lewandoski.; 1191249 Items 1-3.

“Urzad Stanu Cywilnego Kucharki,” Narodowe Archiwum Cyfrowe, Szukajwarchiwach (http://www.szukajwarchiwach.pl/), Akta malzenstw 1874-1909, 1890, #13, marriage record for August Draheim and Agnes Jamrozik, accessed on 1 October 2016.

Urząd stanu cywilnego gminy Młodzieszyn, Sochaczewski, Mazowieckie, Poland, 1936, #16, death certificate for Marianna Zielińska.

 “Akta stanu cywilnego Parafii Rzymskokatolickiej Kowalewo-Opactwo (pow. slupecki),” Narodowego Archiwum Cyfrowego, Naczelnej Dyrekcji Archiwów Panstwowych, Szukajwarchiwach (Szukajwarchiwach.pl), 1838, Zgony, #5, record for Wojciech Grzeszkiewicz, accessed on 1 October 2016.

“Akta stanu cywilnego parafii rzymskokatolickiej w Mlodzieszynie, ” Polskie Towarzystwo Genealogiczne, Metryki.genealodzy.pl:  Projekt Indeksacji Metryk Parafialnych (http://metryki.genealodzy.pl/), 1897, Zgony, #3, record for Antonina Grzegorek.  Accessed on 1 October 2016.

Roman Catholic Church, St. Anna’s Parish (Kołaczyce, Jasło, Podkarpackie, Poland), “Śluby, 1826-1889,” Stare Kopie, 1834, record for Franciscus Łącki and Magdalena Bulgewiczowa, Archiwum Archidecezjalne w Przemyślu, Przemyśl, Poland.

Roman Catholic Church, St. Anna’s Parish (Kołaczyce, Jasło, Podkarpackie, Poland), “Śluby, 1826-1889,” Stare Kopie, 1861, #11, marriage record for Jacobus Łącki and Anna Ptaszkiewicz, Archiwum Archidecezjalne w Przemyślu, Przemyśl, Poland.

Roman Catholic Church, St. Anne’s parish (Kołaczyce, Jasło, Podkarpackie, Poland), “Księga małżeństw parafii Kołaczyce 1748 – 1779,” 1750, marriage record for Stanislaus Niegos and Teresia Szaynoszczonka,  Archiwum Archidecezjalne w Przemyślu, Przemyśl, Poland.

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2016