[Page 21]

Jewish shtetls in Poland… In Warsaw, they would be collectively referred to as “the province” … and Jewish writers, performers and cultural and social activists would add: “the heartwarming Jewish province”. Such a generalization rang as true as the saying “All Greeks have one face”. Do there exist two faces in the world that are the same?

It could be, that for strangers and outsiders who came to visit “for a while and saw for a mile”^[1], all Jewish-Polish shtetls at first glance look alike. But whoever has lived in the shtetls and breathed their familiar air has felt the vast difference between each Jewish settlement, a difference which doesn't permit generalization. There were economic, political, geographic and many other factors that resulted in the distinctiveness of each shtetl and the way of life of its inhabitants. And not only were there great distinctions between Crown Poland and the Eastern borderlands, between Litvak and Galitizaner shtetls, but even between neighboring shtetls of one county. It depended as well on the extent to which the Jewish inhabitants outnumbered the non-Jewish population in the shtetl and how the Jews there earned their living.

Early on, Tsar Nicholas stamped his imprint upon Skierniewice. He would go there to hunt in the surrounding forests and linger with

[Page 22]

his retinue in the famous Skierniewice palace. For weeks beforehand, the frenzied inhabitants feverishly prepared to receive “Yorem Hoyde”^[2] with a triumphal archway in the forests (which remains, by the way, to the present day), and a triumphal archway in the city, with clean, polished up streets, decorated houses, windows, and balconies, hung with banners, expensive tapestries, pictures, flowers and greenery. Not just the city, but the entire area got excited and anxious over this great impending event. And the day of his arrival was like a Judgement Day when not only the human beings in the settlements, but the animals of the forests and the fish in the waters, trembled.

The Almighty Tsar Nikolas has arrived!

From the Jewish community, there came to greet and welcome him: the head of the congregation Reb Shmuel Zeyde, community council members Moyshe Bombel and Yankev Tsitrinovsky and the rabbi, Reb Nokhem Rozenblum, or the subsequent rabbi Reb Shmuel Mendl Bender. They greeted him with traditional bread and salt upon a silver platter. Of course there was no lack of clergy from the Christian community, the Catholic priests and Russian Orthodox priests in their lavish dress. The place teemed with high officers in their splendid uniforms and distinguished functionaries in their festive apparel. The entire population, young and old, Christian and Jewish, were on the street, standing crowded together on the sidewalks, and as if by strict command, screaming with all their might and shouting “Long live the Tsar! Hooray!”

The Jews of Skiernewice were therefore sure that it was just because of them that there arose the expression: “May he have as much strength to live as I have to scream 'Hooray'!”

Thousands of military personnel and policemen would besiege the city and its environs. Particularly well-guarded were the railway station and the palace and all the roads where the Tsar would drive by. And so too – the road to Spała and the hunting grounds. All this the Warsaw General Governor Skalon arranged with a strong hand.

For several weeks Skierniewice would be feverish with the presence of the Tsar and his entourage, and for years afterwards the population lived with the imprint of that experience.

The important train junction and its railway station, which was the most beautiful on the whole line, had a particular influence on the lively, intensive development of the city. The Warsaw-£owicz-Kutne and the Warsaw-Koluszki-£ódŸ railway lines went through Skierniewice. Express trains passing through smaller stations would stop in Skierniewice.

[Page 23]

The well-established rabbinical court, which was famous throughout Poland and used to draw Chasidim from faraway cities to Skierniewice on Jewish holidays, influenced the Jewish population and gave Jewish life a distinctive color.

The military base gave a strong stimulus to the collective life of the town. Two regiments were always stationed here: the Tobolsk regiment and the Ostrołęka regiment. Because of this, high-ranking guests often came down to Skierniewice, such as the Tsar's uncle, Nikolai Nikolaevich, the enemy of the Jews (who, in World War I, ordered all Jews expelled from the small shtetls, including Skierniewice), Sergei Nikolaevich and the Ministers [Vladimir Nikolaevich] Kokovtsov and [Vladimir Alexandrovich] Sukhomlinov. After each of their visits, Jews had good reason to sigh and moan, because they always left behind a going-away present: some bitter decree against the Jews.

But on the other hand, many Jewish livelihoods were based upon the military. A good number of Jewish contractors were the chief suppliers for the regiments. Moyshe Bombel was one of the significant contractors. He was close to the government's circles and conducted a colossal amount of business with the Russian administrative offices.

The barracks that Moyshe Bombel built for the military extended some kilometers distant on the outskirts of the city. Yenkl Podryadchik [Russian: the Contractor] was a big supplier of food products for the military. Shmelke Rusak provided oats and hay. Besides them, a lot of other, smaller contractors revolved around the Skierniewice military circles and derived a profitable livelihood. A great number of Jewish craftsmen worked for the military, especially tailors. Almost every smaller or bigger businessman was partially involved with various military contracts which he obtained directly or indirectly through the mediation of the bigger suppliers.

The two regimens which were stationed there always included a higher number of Jewish soldiers. There was even a time when the Russian authorities had their own Torah scroll in town. The Torah scroll was kept in one of the prayer-houses in the city and the Jewish soldiers formed their own minyan there.

The two regiments had their two Russian Orthodox churches in the city: the Tobolsk regiment on Barracks Street. This was a large, beautiful building, with shiny silver domes which were so high that they could be seen as far away as the outskirts of the city. The church of the Ostrołęka regiment was in the market square close to the city hall. On Sundays, or on a non-Jewish holiday, the Ostrołęka regiment made their smotr [Russian: parade] in the market square, before the soldiers went up to the church to pray.

[Page 24]

The Jewish soldiers felt at home in Skierniewice, where they were embraced with warm friendliness and much care. Some of them took part in Jewish communal life in town and more than a few of them, after their discharge from military service, stayed and built their future here. Because strolling with the local girls, they fell in love, found suitable spouses, married and, using their father-in-law's dowry, opened a business.

A group of Skiernewicer householders as Russian soldiers

Standing from right: Hershl Shuster, unknown, Khayml Tsukermakher (Zayle) Sitting from right: Arn Bialik, Moyshe Yakubovits, Hershl Moyshe Koval

[Page 25]

The convert Venger

All the factors enumerated above influenced the uniqueness of our city Skierniewice in general and Jewish life in particular.

According to history, the city is two hundred years “old”. But Jewish life in the city doesn't even number one hundred fifty years, because for an extended period, Jews were not allowed to settle in Skierniewice. In the region where the city stands today, there was a great forest two hundred years ago, through which there used to travel covered wagons, oxcarts and “povozn” [powozy is Polish for carriage or cart]. Roads that stretched in all directions crossed through the forest: toward Rawa, Mszczonów Jeżów, Stryków, Bolimów, Łyszkowice, and Łowicz. These roads also connected all the larger and smaller villages in the area, the noble estates, and palaces. Therefore, there was a lot of traffic in the forest. There often stretched entire caravans of wagons with passengers and merchandise. Light aristocratic horse-drawn carriages and heavy peasant oxcarts, quick postal coaches and

[Page 26]

heavy wagoneer's teams of harnessed animals. Often, a wheel, an axle, or a wagon shaft would break, or horses would lose their horseshoes. This then brought about the opening of forges, smiths and wheelwrights to repair the broken wagons here in the forest at the crossroads, as well as taverns to rest and to warm up with a swig of alcohol. These were the first residents of the subsequent town of Skiernewice, the first who settled in the very middle of the forest. Travelers by night through the forest roads would happily catch sight of the sparks that always sprayed from the forges. And because the word “sparks” in Polish is “iskri” [Polish iskry], they would call the place where the forges were located “Iskri”. This must indeed have been the origin of the name “Skernievits” [Skierniewice].

Jews settled in Skierniewice many years later, and for a long time they constituted a very small, Jewish half-rural settlement. We who belong to the last generation of Skiernewicer Jews, would still tell about the time period when Skierniewice didn't have its own cemetery and we had to transport our dead to Łowicz for burial. From this in fact must come the expression: “I'll have you in Łowicz!”

And is there any Jew in Skierniewice who doesn't know the story of “Hershele the Dead”?

The story is as follows: Hershele died as a child, and his parents gave him to a wagon driver to take him away to Łowicz for burial. On the way, however, the driver noticed that the little corpse was trembling under its blanket… He turned the wagon shaft and brought the living little corpse back to Skierniewice. Hershele the Dead actually grew up and even lived long to a ripe old age.

According to my reckoning, there were in total seven generations of Jews in Skierniewice. My reckoning is thus: my (great) grandmother, Shimen-Yoysef's Hinde^[3], was the third generation in Skierniewice. I was her great-grandson and my brothers' children were, according to this reckoning, the seventh generation.

Engraved in my heart and in my memory is the image of when I once accompanied my great grandmother, Shimen-Yoysef's Hinde, to the old cemetery, when she went to visit the ancestral graves in the month of Elul. She was already old at that time, nearly eighty years old. She flung herself, first of all, upon the grave of her mother and spoke urgently, as if to a living person, beseeching: A good inscription and sealing (in the Book of Life), a good, blessed and fortunate year with health and sustenance, with joys, good tidings, salvation and comfort for her whole household, for the children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and for all Israel, and let us say Amen! For herself, she asked for an extremely trivial thing: she

[Page 27]

begged only to live long enough to hear the shofar of the Messiah… In conclusion, she called upon the grave with these words:

Mama, if Grandma is not in her grave right now, I beg of you: when she comes back, please let her know that I, her granddaughter Hinde, was here and asked that she intercede on behalf of me and my household and for all Israel, and let us say Amen!

Then she approached her grandmother's grave with the same torrent of passionate words, and finished with the same request:

Dear Grandma, if Mama is not in her grave right now, I beg of you: when she comes back, please let her know that I, her daughter Hinde, was here and asked that she intercede on behalf of me and my whole household and for all Israel, and let us say Amen!

Manele, the son of Avraham-Godl, who used to help his father, the manager of the Burial Society, keep the cemetery records, explains: On the title page of the book of records, there was the Hebrew date 5611 [1851]. It could be that this was not the first book of records, but even if so, our cemetery is more than one hundred years old. And taking into consideration that for a good number of years the dead from Skierniewice were taken away to Łowicz and other towns, one can surmise that Jewish settlement in Skierniewice was almost one hundred and fifty years old.

The outskirts of the city were composed of villages and noble estates. On one side, the Łupia River cut through the entire length of the city, from the old cemetery to the royal palace. The Łupia River ran past the palace in the direction of Łowicz and flowed into the Bzura River. The sources of the Łupia, from whence the river began to flow, were several kilometers outside of Skierniewice. From there it flowed to the large bridge on the way to the Wólki. There the town bordered the palace, which stretched from the large bridge over the green space and the entire length of the railway street which was enclosed with a high fence. The end of the railway street, where the station was on the right side and the crossing gate on the left, was essentially where the town ended for the Jewish population.

[Page 28]

The large bridge and the road to the Wólki

Past the crossing gate, on the left side, on the road to the Skierniewka River, the following people had little grocery stores: Mordkhe Hamer, Avrom-Yitskhok Pintshevski, Klops. Besides them, the area was inhabited by railway officials and workers. A bit further on, the Czerwonki began with Burawski's mill.

From the railway street, a road branched off which extended to the village of Suliszew, by the great Rawka River. During the first World War, German troops camped there for a full ten months, wanting to force their way to Warsaw. Many years ago, Reb Yisroelke Shpikhler's mill was located in Suliszew.

Past the large bridge by the palace, two roads led past the two train “druzhnikes” [Polish dróżniki is “(rail) flagmen”]. The first road, where Moyshe Zalmen had his little grocery store by the glassworks, led to Maków, Łyszkowice and Łowicz. The second

[Page 29]

road, where the plywood factory was located, led to the village of Zwierzyniec and beyond, into the great Zwierzyniec forest with the famous triumphal archways for the Tsar. This road was closed for many years to civilian traffic on account of the Tsar's frequent visits.

Rawa Street, which extended as far as Strakacz' estate “Strobów”, bordered on the villages of Strzyboga, Pamiętna, Kawęczyn, Nowy Dwór, and the old Jewish city of Rawa. The large military base “Raducz” was located on a side road. During the training season, when the troops were stationed at Raducz, there were a few dozen Jewish families living in that area, who derived their means of support from the army.

From there, a road also stretched to the “Bodn”.

“The Bodn” – this was a household name in Skierniewice. “The Bodn” was what that neighborhood was called, because a few dozen Jewish families had settled there and had their small shops in covered wagons, and the word “boydn” (covered wagons) used to be pronounced by us as “bodn”. We would call a Jew from the “Bodn” a “bodnik”, and all the Jews there “bodnikes”. Even those Jews who had long ago moved from the “Bodn” to Skierniewice, and had lived in town for many years, remained known by their old name: “bodnikes”.

The road from Rawa Street also led to the new cemetery. The choice of the place for the new cemetery was not a successful one. It was damp terrain, and almost every time a grave was dug, water would appear in it. Therefore, in the last years, an area of ground was bought as a supplement near the old cemetery and burial in the new one was discontinued.

The Mszczonowska road led up to the big village of Kamion. The barracks street led to the old cemetery and beyond, up to Dębowa Góra. And the second road extended from Rolinski's mill up to the two rows of old, thick, mighty oaks, because of which the whole area was called “Dęby” [Oaks], and from Dęby to Balcerowki.

Travelling by train, the city boundaries were completely different: in the direction of Warsaw, the first station from Skierniewice was Radziwiłłów, the second one was Zyrardów. In between Skierniewice and Łowicz was the Nieborów station. In the direction of Łódź, the first station from Skierniewice was Rogów, after that – the large train junction of Koluszki.

The Jewish population of Skierniewice was interconnected and linked to all these towns, shtetls, villages and estates by trade relations, manufacturing,

[Page 30]

social and cultural activities, youth organizations, by the Chasidim of the court of the Skierniewice rebbe, by graves in cemeteries in other places and by many other communal matters.

The general population of the town (and it was a district-town – a Powiat^[4]) numbered around 24.000 inhabitants. Around 5.000 of them were Jews.

Although the town was hastily built and rapidly developed in all directions, it was not a scattered town, but a concentrated, compact one. The streets were crooked and straight, criss-crossing one another. In general, the town lay on a flat area. Apart from the descent to the large bridge, at the end of Senatorska street, there were no ascents and descents to be seen, no up-and-downs. The streets were paved with large stone slabs, between which grass would sprout every spring. This provided a livelihood to many city workers who used to sit and pull out the grass from in between the stone slabs… There was an ongoing struggle between man and nature… On both sides of the pavement there were sidewalks laid down in rectangular concrete slabs. By the

The new part of the old cemetery

[Page 31]

sidewalks there were gutters. After a downpour these gutters would turn into fast-flowing rivers in which cheder boys would float paper boats to America and to the Land of Israel… or they would even roll up their little trousers and wade up to their knees in that murky water, like the Jews in the Red Sea, before it split…

There was no running water in the city. Except for a few scattered houses, the entire population took water from the city pumps, which were located on the main streets and were maintained by the city council. In the wintertime, there was a lot of trouble with the pumps: there was dangerous black ice around the pumps from spilled water that would freeze. To approach the pump at that time was a neck-breaking piece of work. Indeed, more than one person took a fall there and as a result had a tale to tell. Moreover, in extreme weather, it would happen that the pump itself would freeze, and it would take hours to warm it up. Many householders got their own pumps in the courtyards of their homes.

In more well-to-do homes, special water carriers would bring water for a few grush [small Polish coins]. The water carriers would bend under the burden of the “ciaga” (yoke for carrying buckets) on their shoulders, from which hung down the two full buckets of fresh water. Several poor but respectable Jews engaged in this difficult means of sustenance. One of them was Itshe Kudzhak^[5], a tall, lean Jew with a fine short blond beard and two innocent eyes. His house, which was, of course, dirt poor, was full of small children, the youngest of whom was still in the cradle and a still younger one had just been dragged into this world… After a hard day of water-carrying and waiting by the door, submissively, for payment for his efforts, he would go to the besmedresh (prayer and study house) and sit down to recite Psalms, word for word and with great fervor. His twelve-year-old son, Moyshe-Yenkl used to come to the meeting hall of the Zionist organization. He would timidly slip in, station himself quietly and shyly to one side and listen attentively to the conversations and lectures about the Land of Israel and Zionism.

[Page 32]

He would listen attentively with such an earnest and devout expression, like his father, Itshe Kudzhak – at Rabbi Fayvl's Talmudic lesson on Shabbos evenings in the community's besmedresh (prayer and study house). Moyshe-Yenkl always yearned for an assignment from the Zionist association, to be of some use for the Land of Israel. With time, he became the custodian of the Zionist meeting hall. He discharged his duty with devotion, as he would carry out an important and sacred mission. He was, therefore, popular and beloved in Skierniewice Zionist circles.

The water carrier Yisroel-Mordkhe would say, or more accurately, hum to himself, several chapters of Psalms while carrying the water… or he would even sing over and over, while walking with the two full buckets of water, the cantor's last “Yekhadshehu” [Hebrew – “May He renew it”] from the prayers for Resh Khoydesh [the beginning of each Hebrew month]. Of course, he also wasn't any Rothschild and his wife, Shayndele, had to help him earn their livelihood: she would get feathers from wealthy households to pluck the down. But Yisroel-Mordkhe was not discouraged because there was another water carrier Laybele who was also a decent Jew and even more impoverished than him.

This was the situation with the ordinary, plain, hard water from the city pumps. This water had a bad taste. It couldn't be drunk without boiling it and no one could make a decent-tasting glass of tea from it. But Skierniewice householders were actually connoisseurs and great enthusiasts of a nice, delicious glass of tea… For that purpose, the soft good-tasting “palatsove” [Polish palacowa – of the palace] water was good… That water was drawn from the deep well in the royal palace and poured into barrels. When Tsalel “Vodi” (Polish – wody – water) would show up in the street with his horse and cart and with the treasured cask of “palatsove” water and call out: “Vodi! Vodi! Vodi!”… people would gather around him and help him shout and call out together: “Vodi! Vodi! Vodi!”. The housewives would hand over their buckets and Tsalel would bring them back full of good-quality palace-water. This was a couple of grush more expensive, but the experts were certain that it was worth it. And even though it was a couple of grush more expensive, Tsalel “Vodi” was nevertheless still a bitterly poor man. There was also a Nosn “Vodi” who also eked out a living from selling water.

And while we are speaking about paupers, I want to mention Getsl the mailman, who used to walk on foot from town to town and take care of various assignments. He was a scatterbrain and often would confuse one thing with another, ruining merchandise and even matchmaking arrangements. A story was told about him, that on the way to Łowicz, he sat down to rest and have a snack. Then he stretched out to take a nap. In order to know which way to walk upon awakening, he lay down with his feet pointed in that direction. While sleeping, however, he

[Page 33]

turned around and when he got up, he set about walking towards the place from which he had come. He came into “Łowicz” and gaped and wondered: How similar Łowicz is to Skierniewice! As if they both had the same mother. When he walked by his own house and his wife Rivke came out towards him, Getsl said: “If I didn't know that I was in Łowicz, I would swear that you are my wife Rivke!” But it was only when Rivke let loose with her sharp tongue and wished that she would really have him soon in Łowicz, that Getsl was persuaded that he was in Skierniewice, at home….

In the town center was the large rectangular marketplace, and alongside it, near grandpa Yosl's hardware store, was a second smaller rectangular market square “holding hands”. Yes, both markets held hands, like a mama with a daughter who fear that they will lose each other in the throng of arriving peasants, horses and carts, and in the confusion and shouting of market women with produce stands. As a result, in fact, both markets physically clung to the eastern side, stuck on one side to the corner of Pshernik^[6] and New Street, where Berish Rotblit's grocery store was located; and on the other side – at the corner of Rawska Street and Szatkowska Alley, by Nosn Teyblum's paint shop and Yisroel-Yitskhok Cohen's food store.

And both markets, the mama and the daughter, stretched like ribbons through all the main streets of the city. Two main streets stretched out on the west side: Barracks Street and Senatorska Street. There, where Yekhiel Lipshits, Mendl the Butcher's son, had his food store and where, across the street, Simkhe Tsudkovitsh and Yankev-Moyshe Vaynberg's electrical appliance store was located – that's where Barracks Street began. On the other side, Senatorska Street stretched from Talman's house and from Mote Fefer's jewelry shop, across the street.

From the main streets, many smaller streets and alleys, straight and crooked, without sidewalks and unpaved, cramped and narrow, ran off and scattered, like mischievous cheder-boys. The small houses stood one right next to another, one larger, one smaller, but to make up for that, they had large and even quite large courtyards, which were

[Page 34]

full and densely occupied by Jews and Jewish children, like a Hamantaschen with poppy seeds. For the most part, the yards connected one street to another, like – l'havdil [Hebrew: not to compare them] – the passageways in the big cities…people walked through them, as through a public domain. Many of these yards led a long way out, as far as the empty fields on the outskirts of the city.

Many of the houses were made of brick and stone, well-established, illustrious, grandees. There were just as many wooden huts with sloping

The market square on an ordinary day

And when the black, soot-covered chimneysweep Mankovski would appear on a roof, there was rejoicing among the youngsters. But when he stuck his brush down into the chimney, such a smoky fog filled the house that one person couldn't recognize another, and had to begin wiping their eyes, like those weeping and pleading in prayer for a good year…

[Page 35]

On many roofs there were garrets, small attic rooms, which were far from having any creature comforts. Their inhabitants were, for the most part, Jews. And not the rich ones, obviously. But let us return and describe our two market squares.

For an entire week, it was quiet in the market squares – and peaceful enough to take a nap. There was a bit of movement only on the side, where the pshekopkes (the market women) stood with their stalls, small tables, chairs, little boxes, baskets and sacks with vegetables and fruits of all kinds. Here Bashe Udls stood with tubs and casks of fish, Khave with her wares, Yente with her large assortment and many other Yentes and Beyles, who sold “honey” apples and “shmaltz” herring, “golden” pears, “silver and diamond” merchandise for next to nothing… And they solemnly swore about everything, and they wanted all of it for themselves, measuring and weighing, firing back with outrage and indignation, only to reconcile and once again measure and weigh, wish and swear, as usual.

But when Thursday morning arrived, our two market squares were unrecognizable. The “mama and the daughter” came to life, dressed up in a peasant manner with all the colors of the rainbow… because Thursday was, in our town, the weekly market day, or the “torg”, as it was called here.

From daybreak on, from all corners of the city, peasant wagons with grain, potatoes, poultry, fruits and vegetables began streaming in. But already, by the town toll gate, before entering the city, they were met by an assortment of merchants and petty businessmen, brokers and wholesalers, grain and poultry-dealers, who patted, blew on, weighed in their hands, tasted, spit, tore from their hands, haggled, slapped their palms, swore profusely and shouted. Among them were Shmelke Rusak, Simkhe-Bunem Kofer, Shaye and Henekh Bartik, Shimshe the Cripple and many others. There was a throng clamoring by the toll gate. Richer farmers haggled and wanted to pay less to pass through. Poorer ones didn't want to pay anything at all. But no one got by Nekhemye Frenkel the “targovnik”^[7]. He had leased the toll gate by the town hall; it was his business, his income. If a peasant tried to make his way through by force, he would threaten to call the rural police officer who was stationed nearby. But he didn't need the police officer at all! Nekhemye Frenkel “targovnik” could hold his own and deal with any peasant… Maintaining the toll gate is a Jewish business and farmers need to pay!

Oh, I forgot to say: Besides those two market squares, the mama and the daughter, Skierniewice also had a hog-market, several smaller marketplaces and simple open places. When the larger and smaller markets became filled

[Page 36]

with densely packed horses and wagons, so that no more could get in, the peasant flood would overflow into the other smaller marketplaces, open spaces and neighboring streets. The townspeople had to have healthy lungs in order to shout over the neighing of the horses, the bleating of the tied-up calves, the bellowing of the pigs, the crowing of the roosters, and the quacking of geese and ducks. The peasants open up their sacks of potatoes: white, yellow, red, large “American” ones, which were sweet, to put into cholent^[8]. Small casks with apples and pears, sacks with butterpears, baskets with plums and cherries to make compote, to give to children on Shabbos, to prepare jams, to make cherry brandy and for “God forbid we should need this”… but which youngsters sometimes need right now, and grab and gobble raw… Poor peasant men and women come into town on foot with a little basket of eggs, a couple of oval packs of butter, and a bird under the arm.

When the town clock on the bell tower of the large church strikes nine, business is already in full swing. The Jewish vendors at the market stalls already have hoarse throats from shouting out, swearing, and haggling with peasants and the town housewives. The shops around the market square and throughout the town are already full of peasant men and women. In the textile businesses of Henekh Leyzerovitsh, Leybush-Mendl Ravyak, Mendl the son of Shimen-Yosef, Ben-Tsion the son of Abele, Berish Tinsky, Mendl Segal and Leym Treter, off-cuts of fabric are thrown on wide tables, flowery chintz and shiny cotton cloth of low quality with polka dots and narrow stripes and wider colored stripes. They measure and talk, they cut and talk, they gesticulate and talk, they point and chatter, they count money and talk, they pack up the parcels and talk, and they send off each peasant with their bargains from the shop and go on talking. Apparently, the primary objective is not the goods, but the talk. Talk is what they're selling, not the goods. For the whole business is based on talking. The goods are just a free supplement to the dearly paid-for deluge of talk…

It is the same, with even more tumult and commotion, in the haberdashery businesses of Etke and Yisroel-Yitskhok Ershter, Melekh Samokhodl, Freydl Nekhtshes, Menakhem Rotman, Godl Vudka, Pinkhes Miller and others. The hats – twisted, the kapotes^[9] –unfastened, the faces – sweaty, the eyes – blinking. Indeed, they have to keep a thousand eyes on the sticky fingers of the greedy peasant women… They count dozens of buttons, they measure yards^[10] of lace and ribbons, they feel the headscarves with the gaudy colored flowers – only to be worn at parties and weddings! Every cross-eyed village girl would look like a lady, like a bride. And the “lady” turns up her nose and picks through the balls of yarn, the packages of needles and the colorful ribbons.

The peasants buy caps with varnished visors from the stalls of Mote Tiger, Yosl's Bintshe Moyshe, and Khayim-Itshe the hat maker. The peasants try on the caps

[Page 37]

The market square on a market day

[Page 38]

and Khayim-Itshe offers them a smudged, pock-marked green mirror, stating: “Look at that hat! Tsa-tsa! It fits you as if it were made for you… You look like a prince in this cap! I should look so good!”

At Avrom-Dovid Levenberg's, at Bunem Ferkal's and at Avrom-Yitskhok Lipshtot's, people purchase dishes and containers. They drag from there laundry buckets, basins, pails, kneading troughs, water basins, earthenware jugs and pots, large bowls, blue food containers, crockery^[11] and various other types of glassware. The woman from Lodz sells small mirrors, pins, combs of various sorts and sizes, thick and thin, and she demonstrates on a peasant's locks of hair how it fastens onto the head. A peasant runs away from tall Avrom-Shmuel. He runs after him and drags him back. He counts the money aloud in a loud voice, and the peasant counts after him, as if he were repeating a confessional. Black-haired Dvoyre manages a dozen peasant women all at once. At Yoyne Inovlotski's, peasants try on lustrous, fragrant, squeaky-clean boots… At the tailor Gross', customers try on short jackets, at Meyerholts' – trousers with vests, at Khayim Zelman's shop, the shop assistants clothe a different peasant every few minutes. The garments are somehow sewn such that they fit each peasant, regardless of their height or weight. The same garment, apparently, could be worn by both an elephant and a tomcat… In just the same way, Perl Rozenblum's and Blume Kovalski's colorful headscarves and ribbons fit each peasant woman.

The peasants who have sold out their merchandise go on to shop for their own needs and for the needs of their rural households. They lug kerosene, salt, soap and sugar from Efroyim Liberman's, Dovid Lipshits', and Berish Rotblit's large grocery stores. In Hene-Gitl Hits', Gershon Kurts' and Leybish Shteynfeld's food shops, they buy themselves treats to have a bite to eat. And then, with renewed strength and with a pouch of money that pickpockets haven't yet managed to snatch, they head back to shopping: at Leye's who chopped straw for animal fodder, at Hersh-Leyb Gingold's and at Noah Hentshe's^[12] they purchase various grains and food for livestock and poultry. At Yisroelkele Kriger's, Grandpa Yosl's, and Mordkhe-Dovid Grinberg's they buy scythes, rakes, knives, axes, saws, cleavers, graters, handmills, files, whetstones, nails, and other hardware. At Dovidl Mister's and Perets Trompoler's, they get paint, chalk, plaster, turpentine, varnish, and brushes. At Lomen Mendl's there's a mess of herring. Dozens of herrings and full tin cans of brine are dragged out for the pigs. And though the peasants are not pigs, they too get pleasure from dipping a piece of bread into the herring brine. It is delicious and it's cheap… Yet, they also don't forget to buy a little bit of grease for the carts and the farming equipment at Red-Haired Mates' and at Yisroel Avrum Gavriel's.^[13]

The timber depots of Luzer Levenberg, Yisroel-Yankev Gutman, Yenkl

[Page 39]

Shpikhler and others do a good business. Peasants need wooden beams, boards, strips of molding, coal, shingles, tools and agricultural machines. These they buy at Arn Bonik's, Avromtshe Bonik's and at Meyer Goldberg's.

And if the peasant has sold off everything and done all his shopping and still has some money left, he's in a good mood. Then he feels tugged to Avrom Rimer's, or to Volf Rimer's, to have a proper drink. When he's quite happy, he buys himself a small pocket flask, or even a “matka” [Polish: “mother”] (a liter-sized bottle of liquor). He gets it at Hersh Dovid Papierbukh's, at Leybl and Gershon Liberman's or even at the tavern. In the afternoon, there's already no lack of drunken peasants in the marketplace and on the streets. Somebody sings and somebody shouts, and somebody takes it into their head to punch a Jew. Most of the time, people quickly jump in to separate them, dragging the drunk away and it ends peaceably. But it also happens that the Jew is brought home blood-splattered, a market woman laments her scattered, broken and trampled-on goods and the police take the drunken peasant away to the police station so he can sober up there…

For many shopkeepers, merchants, craftsmen and brokers, the Thursday “torg” provides their livelihood for the entire week. With the money earned on that very market day, Jews must pay bills, rent, school fees, repay loans to the mutual aid society, buy everything they need for the household, and live an entire week. Their entire hope is placed on Thursday and for this reason, they are so preoccupied and agitated and obsessed with business. When an unsuccessful market day occurs, they walk around distraught. Payments are put off, debts are postponed. Then almost all the merchants groan that the whole business is going to hell, and they start waiting impatiently for the local fair.

Every month, a fair takes place in Skierniewice. At that time, merchants come here from distant towns, even from as far as Warsaw. The Skierniewice fairs are well-known throughout Poland. This is when some very big deals are made. The best and most beautiful horses and whole herds of livestock are bought and sold on that occasion. This is the big day for horse-merchants and butchers. Everybody is busy at that time: Yenkl Sukhers and his sons, Nakhmente's Moyshe,^[14] Shoyel Herman, Khonon, Moyshe Buki. Everybody! Whoever is able to hold a bridle, skin a hide, remove unkosher veins and fat, and chop meat…

During the fair, as if from a faraway magical land, there arrive various stunt performers, who eat fire, swallow knives and pull long ribbons out of their mouths. They let a little monkey dance in the middle of the market square and pass a box containing fortune notes to a parrot, so that it can pull the right one out with its beak. On a barrel stands a “Turk”, wearing a red fez and doing magic tricks. He summons the audience with a “pru-tu-tu-tu!!!” and fires off a thick stream of his own pure Turkish. But for minkhe [the afternoon prayer] the Turk comes to the bes-medresh [study house] because he has a yortsayt [death anniversary of a close relative]

[Page 40]

on that very day. And from his way of saying Kaddish, one can tell that he is a true Litvak…

The markets and the fairs last from dawn until late afternoon. The peasants' wagons drive away, the Jews pack up their stalls and wearily drag themselves home, where they sum up the receipts for the day.

And on the following morning the market squares return to their everyday appearance.

Notes:

1. Idiom meaning visitors from outside can sometime see the situation better than those inside. Return
2. Hebrew words after the name of a ruler, like British “His Glorious Majesty”. Lit: “May His glory be exalted” Return
3. The Yiddish “Hinde di Shimen-Yoysef'te” likely means “Hinde wife of Shimen-Yoysef”. But it could also mean “Hinde daughter of Shimen-Yoysef”. Return
4. A Powiat in Poland was the administrative division equivalent to a county in English- speaking countries Return
5. Kudzhak could be a Polish surname, or it could be a description: “Skinny” Return
6. Polish Pszernik, which means “Gingerbread” or could be a surname. Return
7. targownik is a colloquial Polish word meaning “the market guy”. Return
8. Sabbath dish usu. of meat, potatoes and beans, prepared on Friday and kept warm out of respect for the prohibition of cooking on the Sabbath. Return
9. kaftans, long coats traditionally worn by observant Jewish men. Return
10. arshin, measure of length formerly used in Russia, equal to 28 inches. Return
11. Yiddish “zhiskes” appears to be the yiddishized plural of Polish singular “żyska” (or something similar), whose precise meaning we were unable to identify. Judging from the context, it must be some sort of container, so we opted for “crockery”. Return
12. Noah could be Hentshe's husband or son – see footnote #3. Return
13. Gavriels could be Yisroel Avrum's surname, or this could mean Yisroel-Avrum son of Gavriel. Return
14. di Nakhmentes could mean either “son of” or “husband of Nachmente”. Return

  Skierniewice, Poland     Yizkor Book Project     JewishGen Home Page

Copyright © 1999-2025 by JewishGen, Inc.
Updated 20 Mar 2025 by JH