A Trip to Pilawin, the Deer-park of Count Joseph Potocki in Volhynia, Russia

In Short

This account details an expedition to the Pilawin preserve in Volhynia, Russia, in the early 20th century. Established by Count Joseph Potocki, this vast, fenced forest serves as a pioneering experiment in acclimatizing rare game—such as American wapiti, Caucasian red deer, and European bison—to a natural habitat. The author, a keen naturalist, documents the flora, fauna, and the intricate management of the estate. It remains a fascinating historical window into pre-revolutionary European land stewardship, the burgeoning science of conservation, and the romantic ideals of aristocratic hunting culture.

The Story

The narrative begins with a clear mission: to observe the progress of a grand experiment. Count Joseph Potocki, inspired by the legendary collections of the Duke of Bedford at Woburn, has transformed his ancestral forests in Volhynia into a sanctuary. He intends to reintroduce the elk and foster a diverse collection of deer species from across Asia and North America. The author, accompanied by his daughter, travels from London to Warsaw, then southward by rail and carriage to reach the Count’s magnificent residence at Antoniny.

The initial chapters are dedicated to the journey and the immense scale of the Potocki estate. The reader is introduced to a world of regal infrastructure, where the Count maintains his own flag, vast stables, and a self-sufficient colony of craftsmen. The author marvels at the contrast between the cultivated gardens of the palace and the rugged, primitive conditions of the countryside, where mud-choked roads and wooden bridges present constant, if minor, challenges.

Once the party reaches the Pilawin preserve, the focus shifts to the wildlife. The preserve is a seven-thousand-acre tract of primeval forest enclosed by timber fencing. The author describes the "stalking" of various species, noting that the animals live in such relative freedom that they retain their wild instincts. He records sightings of elk browsing in thickets, Dybowski’s deer grazing in swampy pastures, and the impressive, lumbering bison that represent the heart of the collection. The author provides a technical, naturalist’s view of these animals, discussing their winter habits, their fodder—which is supplemented by oats and tubers—and the specific, often confusing, taxonomic classifications of the deer.

The arc of the visit culminates in a series of "beats" or drives, organized by the director of the preserve, Mr. Sokalski. These excursions allow the author to witness the animals in motion, providing a dramatic, visceral sense of the park’s success. The narrative is punctuated by the author’s reflections on his conversations with the local foresters, whose scientific knowledge of the woods deeply impresses him. He also ventures into broader observations of the local agriculture and livestock, noting resemblances to ancient, extinct breeds. By the time the author departs in early September, the experiment is clearly established as a triumph of both vision and endurance. The final pages express the author’s profound gratitude for being the first English visitors to witness this unique intersection of wild, primeval nature and human artifice.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The author sets out from London with his daughter, traveling by train to Warsaw and navigating the logistical hurdles of the Russian rail system. They find themselves in an environment where horse-trams are still common and the cultural landscape is marked by a blend of Polish, Russian, and military influences.

Arrival at the estate Upon reaching Antoniny, they are received by the Count and Countess with traditional aristocratic hospitality. The author provides a detailed, admiring description of the palace, the ornate gardens, and the famous Arab stud, illustrating the immense wealth and organization required to maintain such a domain.

The forest of Pilawin The travelers journey further to the isolated shooting-lodge that serves as their base within the park. This section captures the atmosphere of the forest, the architectural ingenuity of the lodge, and the specific challenges of managing a massive, enclosed ecosystem.

The naturalist’s survey The central portion of the book is a series of field observations, where the author catalogs the behavior of the deer and bison. He evaluates the success of the experiment by observing the animals’ health, their breeding, and their interactions with the landscape.

The drives and departure The visit concludes with organized drives that force the animals into the open for close observation. After a final period of reflection on the local fauna and the unique expertise of the foresters, the party makes the long journey back to England.

The People

Count Joseph Potocki is the driving force of the narrative, a man of vision who seeks to recreate the wild through the application of immense resources and scientific curiosity. He is not merely an owner but a curator, whose ambition is to ensure his animals live in a "wild and natural state" rather than a zoological garden.

Mr. Sokalski, the director of the preserve, acts as the vital bridge between the Count’s grand ideas and the practical reality of the forest. He is a man of remarkable competence, handling the administrative, scientific, and physical demands of the park with ease. The author frequently praises him for his botanical and zoological knowledge, highlighting his role in maintaining the health and order of the diverse herd.

The author and his daughter serve as the observant, appreciative guests. While the author brings a scholarly lens to the trip, his daughter provides a focus for the human experience of the park, often standing at the center of the most dramatic sightings, such as the stampede of the bison. Together, they represent the external validation of the Count’s experiment, carrying the fame of Pilawin back to the scientific communities of London.

In Its Own Voice

"I want, in fact, to see Pilawin, not a zoological garden, but a wild forest, where the noblest kinds of game may enjoy the largest possible amount of freedom, and where the sportsman may find the enjoyment of real sport and the naturalist a great field for study."

The author captures the Count’s core philosophy, emphasizing that the value of the park lies in its rejection of traditional, cramped containment in favor of a naturalistic environment.

"There was something almost ghost-like in their appearance as they first loomed into view out of the thick covert, and then vanished."

This observation describes a group of cow elk emerging from the dense forest during a drive, illustrating the author's ability to blend scientific observation with a sense of the wonder and mystery inherent in the wild.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book is an exploration of the tension between human control and the wild. It asks whether humanity can artificially reconstruct a "pristine" ecosystem that has been lost to progress or habitat destruction. The text argues that true conservation requires not just protection, but a deep, granular understanding of the land—the soil, the trees, and the specific dietary needs of the animals. Beneath the descriptions of antlers and terrain lies a quiet anxiety about the fragility of nature. The author questions how much human intervention is required to save a species, and whether the "wild state" is something that can be manufactured or if it is a delicate illusion maintained by constant labor and fences.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in natural history, the history of conservation, or the vanishing world of European aristocrats will find this a uniquely rewarding read. It is written with a warmth that bridges the gap between the author's technical expertise and his genuine awe for the forests of Volhynia. The prose is precise and evocative, capturing a time when the world seemed both larger and more interconnected through the efforts of dedicated individuals.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the author's period-specific perspectives. The text reflects the attitudes of a time when the hunting of noble game was a standard pursuit of the elite, and his descriptions of the "sport" of shooting animals may feel discordant to contemporary sensibilities. Furthermore, the focus on technical, sometimes dry, taxonomic debates—which reflect the author’s professional interests—can occasionally slow the pace. Despite these period-bound elements, the book remains a striking testament to a forgotten experiment in environmental stewardship. It is the kind of work that rewards a patient reader with a vivid, lingering image: a vast, damp, and silent forest, where the earth shudders under the weight of creatures brought from across the globe to roam, at least for a while, in a kingdom of their own.