Clutching a chipped teacup, old Mrs. Nowak chuckled, “Stare Babice? Oh, it’s seen more than its share of history, dearie.” Stare Babice. A village nestled just west of Warsaw. It’s a quiet place today. But its past whispers tales of both peace and conflict. Stare Babice’s story begins long before written records, evidenced by Neolithic graves and traces of the Przeworsk and Łużycka cultures. The whispers of iron smelting furnaces from the 1st century CE still echo. The first written record of Stare Babice appears in 1254. The record mentions a church in nearby Borzęcin, founded by Konrad Mazowiecki. Stare Babice itself shows up during the reign of Casimir the Great (1310-1370). A Marcin Babica (or Babice), a Warsaw official, is recorded in 1400. By the 16th century, Stare Babice boasted a wooden church, a parish, and a school. Just a stone’s throw away in Latchorzew lived Wojciech Oczko (1537?-1599?). He served as royal physician and secretary to both Stefan Batory and Sigismund III Vasa. Oczko authored some of the first medical texts written in Polish. The heart of medieval Stare Babice rested west of the current market square. The oldest surviving structure, a baroque church, was funded in 1727 by the Crown Chancellor, Jan Szembek. Its side aisles and tower were later additions. In 1827, Stare Babice consisted of 26 houses and 266 residents, part of a parish of over 3,000. By the late 19th century, Warsaw’s defensive ring of forts reached west, including Fort Babice. A three-room school served the community. During World War II, Stare Babice found itself on the front lines. In September 1939, German forces clashed with the Polish 40th Infantry Regiment and the Warsaw Battalion. Stare Babice and the radio station changed hands several times. The war left its scars. The Stare Babice War Cemetery now holds the remains of soldiers and civilians, a somber reminder of the conflict. A separate cemetery in Borzęcin honors soldiers from the 8th Infantry Division who fell in 1939.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to