Vanished Professions of Vilnius

If you found yourself in this place around a hundred years ago and looked at the River Neris, you would most probably see wooden rafts drifting past, operated by the raftsmen standing on them. Or perhaps you’d spot them on the opposite bank, tying logs together to prepare for the long and arduous journey downstream.

The business of floating timber down rivers and lakes was called rafting, and the people who did this work were known as raftsmen. It was the cheapest – and sometimes the only possible – way to transport timber from logging sites to processing places. In Lithuania, rafts were tied and floated as early as the 15th century.

Groups of eight to 20 raftsmen would steer the rafts downstream to an agreed destination and return home overland. On the Neris, rafts could be up to ten metres wide and 80 metres long. They were steered using large oar-like rudders at the front and back, and stopped with anchors or long poles lowered between the logs to the riverbed.

Each raft usually had a makeshift shelter built from branches and covered with straw – a place to take refuge from the rain, cook food, or have a quick nap.

In spring, when smaller rivers – such as the Apaščia, Nemunėlis, Mūša, Merkys, and Ūla – were swollen with meltwater, narrow rafts, only 2–3 metres wide, would be floated down. In eastern Lithuania, rafts were also transported through a chain of lakes, then along the Žeimena and the Neris rivers toward Vilnius. Once these small rafts reached the Neris or Nemunas, they would be tied together into larger ones for the rest of the journey.

The boatmen prepared thoroughly for the journey, watching the tides and setting sail at the most suitable time. Sometimes it could seem as if entire villages were moving down the Neris.

Timber rafts ferried down the Neris until 1957.

On a plan of Vilnius published in 1581, a three-story tower is depicted in the Lower Castle of Vilnius, situated adjacent to the Neris River. The German caption reads ‘Der Lucerne’ – the ‘Lantern’ (‘Žibintas’ in Lithuanian). The location of this tower corresponds to the corner of the current New Arsenal building, where the foundation of the tower is marked by tiles.

It may have earned the name Lantern because, like a beacon, it shone at night, acting as a lighthouse to guide the boatmen sailing their timber rafts down the Neris River.

Historical documents indicate that this tower was also known as the ‘Round Tower’, and later, the ‘Twardowski Tower’. This latter name comes from Jan Twardowski – a sorcerer, magician, and alchemist whom Sigismund Augustus had once welcomed into his court. 

In 1551, Barbara Radziwiłł (Barbora Radvilaitė), Sigismund Augustus’ wife, sadly passed away. Legend says that, tormented by grief, Sigismund sought a way to see his beloved wife once more, so he turned to Twardowski. The sorcerer promised to summon Barbara’s spirit.

He warned the king to come to the tower at the appointed hour and to remain calm, no matter what appeared before him. Sigismund took his seat as Tvardowski lit incense and candles, chanting from his book of spells. As the hypnotic voice of the sorcerer sounded, the room filled with clouds of smoke. As the king drifted into a trance, a pale vision of Barbara emerged from the haze, her hands reaching out toward him. Unable to resist the urge to embrace even the shadow of his beloved, Sigismund was overcome and leapt up, only for the smoke to part and the vision of Barbara to vanish. 

In 1886, the Polish painter Wojciech Gerson immortalised this scene on canvas. 

The Lantern Tower itself stood for another 200 years, as it can be found on the ‘Fürstenhof’ map of Vilnius (compiled around 1737) and is depicted in several works by Franciszek Smuglewicz (known as Pranciškus Smuglevičius in Lithuanian).

In many cultures, the figure of the court or palace jester existed for centuries, and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania was no exception. From the late Middle Ages, and especially during the early modern period, it was popular for the rulers and nobles of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania to have jesters, dwarves, and Black courtiers.

The earliest known information about jesters who lived in the Lithuanian rulers’ palaces dates back to the late 14th century. According to the sources, the Grand Duke of Lithuania and King of Poland, Jagiełło (Jogaila), had at least two jesters of Ruthenian origin, while Grand Duke Vytautas also had at least one jester. Four entertainers lived in the court of Alexander Jagiellon, and even Sigismund the Old seemingly could not do without the company of professional entertainers – dozens of jesters of various nationalities served him. They read and performed music for the ruler during meals and celebrations, accompanied him on journeys, and one jester even slept near the doors of the ruler’s bedchamber.

The most famous jester of Sigismund the Old was Stanisław Stańczyk (Stanislovas Stančikas), whose name became synonymous with a ‘jester’ in both Lithuania and Poland. Stańczyk was written about by authors in the 16th–17th century, immortalised in the 19th century by painter Jan Matejko, and even has a monument dedicated to him in Poland. Making use of his status as a ‘court fool’ (to whom much was permitted and forgiven), he did not hesitate to express, in the guise of humour, many bitter truths about the actual state of the country, pointing out the ruler’s main mistakes and the vices of his entourage.

By the end of the 17th century, the demand for jesters and other court eccentrics began to wane. The last ‘official’ royal court entertainer likely served August III around the mid-18th century. The final ruler of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth, Stanisław August Poniatowski, no longer had such courtiers.

The optical telegraph, invented in France in 1794, was the fastest means of long-distance communication of its time. It consisted of a chain of towers, each visible from the next, spaced roughly 8 to 12 kilometres apart. At the top of every tower stood a three-metre mast fitted with semaphore arms – three movable beams whose positions formed coded letters. By combining these, operators could transmit words, phrases, and entire sentences across great distances. The system spread swiftly through Europe during the first quarter of the 19th century, soon finding use as far away as America, Algeria, Egypt, and India.

In the summer of 1837, the skyline of Vilnius underwent a dramatic transformation when construction began on a wooden optical telegraph structure atop Gediminas Tower. Inside, the tower was divided into two levels: the lower floor housed an entrance hall and a kitchen for the operators, while the upper level served as their living quarters. The two-storey superstructure, completed in 1838, held the optical telegraph mechanism itself, an observation room, and the director’s office. By the autumn of 1839, the signal operators had moved into the tower.

The St. Petersburg–Warsaw optical telegraph line, operational from 1839 to 1854, was the longest in the world at the time. Stretching over 1,250 kilometres, it employed nearly two thousand people and included 149 stations, 22 of which stood within the Vilnius Governorate. It took as little as 20 minutes for messages to travel from St. Petersburg to Warsaw.

Telegraph operators underwent training at a special school established in 1840. Their task was to reproduce, through a telescope, the exact position of the semaphore arms visible on the nearest tower. They never knew the content of the messages they relayed – only the patterns of movement.

Of course, this invention had its drawbacks: the optical telegraph depended on weather conditions and was visible to anyone curious enough to look. Naturally, the meaning of the secret telegraph codes was known only to a very limited group of people.

The system, for all its ingenuity, was not without flaws. The significant drawbacks of the invention were that its operation depended entirely on clear weather and daylight, and anyone curious enough to look could observe the moving arms from a distance. The meaning of the signals, however, remained known only to a limited circle of trusted officials.

On August 17, 1854, the optical telegraph was finally decommissioned, replaced by the new electromagnetic telegraph line, which marked the beginning of a new era. Soon after, the new telegraph began to be used by government offices, businesses, and newspaper publishers. A few wealthy individuals even had devices installed in their homes. To send a message or greeting, people would go to the post office, dictate the text to a telegraph operator, who would then send it via the device to the specified address. At the other end, an identical device would record the message on a narrow strip of paper, which the clerk would cut and paste onto a sheet or postcard. Then, either the addressee would collect it or a postman would deliver it to their mailbox.

After the Second World War, Vilnius’s city telegraph office operated at Universiteto g. 14. Today, the same building houses a hotel and a restaurant aptly named Telegrafas, which was recognised in the 2024 Michelin Guide.

Today, the building at Pilies g. 16 originally consisted of two separate houses until the end of the 19th century. The famous bell founder of French origin, Jean (Jonas) Delamars, resided in the northernmost house from 1663 until his death in 1690. Having been badly damaged by the fire of 1748, the house was later rebuilt, and, by the beginning of the 19th century, it had gained a reputation for its elegant, richly appointed interior.

Both houses were purchased by Napoleon Odachowski; in 1890, he combined and reconstructed them according to a design by architect Cyprian Maculewicz. Between 1902 and 1903, one of the first art salons in Vilnius operated in this building, and from 1903, it housed the studio of photographer Icik Serebrin. In 1910, the house underwent another renovation, acquiring the appearance it retains to this day.  

Jean Delamars was renowned as a skilled craftsman celebrated for casting some of the finest-quality bells, but he was also an accomplished cannon foundry master. He lived in Lithuania from 1662 to 1690 (with some interruptions) and worked in the arsenals of Bogusław Radziwiłł in Biržai and Vilnius, leaving his indelible touch on Lithuanian craftsmanship.

A total of 32 bells made by Delamars are known to have been cast within the territory of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. Eleven remain in Lithuania, while the others were taken to Russia in 1915. Delamars’ work can still be heard today: his bells can be found in Alytus, Skaruliai, the Pažaislis Monastery Complex, and Alsėdžiai. In total, thirty-two bells attributed to him are known to have been cast within the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. Eleven of these remain in Lithuania, while others were taken to Russia in 1915. His work can still be heard today, with two bells each in Alytus, Skaruliai, and the Pažaislis Monastery complex, respectively, and one in Alsėdžiai. Four of Delarmar’s bells have survived in Vilnius: two still ringing in the Church of Saints Peter and Paul, and one each in the bell towers of the Cathedral and St Johns’ Church at Vilnius University.

Delamars’s bell and cannon workshop foundry in Vilnius stood near the Vilnia River, in an area once known as Puškarnia (now called Pūčkoriai). His bells were distinguished by their exceptionally harmonious tone, durability, and rich ornamentation, often inscribed with the year of casting and adorned with floral or geometric motifs, coats of arms, or figures of saints – each one a carefully tuned voice cast in bronze, made to outlast centuries.

This sculpture was created by Vytautas Nalivaika as his diploma project at the State Art Institute, now the Vilnius Academy of Arts. Installed in 1986, it depicts a figure once familiar in Vilnius’s streets but long since vanished from city life – the lamplighter.

In the 19th century, lamplighters were a common sight as part of the city’s evening routine. On October 22, 1864, 307 gas lamps were lit in Vilnius for the first time, casting their glow over the Old Town and main squares. The introduction of gas lighting was not motivated by the Tsarist authority’s desire to improve citizens’ comfort or make the city safer. The reason was more sinister – after the Uprising of 1863 was brutally crushed, notorious Governor-General Mikhail Muravyov ordered the installation of gas lighting to maintain surveillance and tighten control over residents’ movements after dark.

Later, oil lamps replaced the gas ones, nearly halving the cost of keeping the city illuminated.

Each evening and morning, lamplighters made their rounds – lighting, extinguishing, and tending to each lamp by trimming the wicks and making sure the glass was clean. They transported their ladders on their backs, wore special aprons, and carried a small lantern in their hands to guide them through the dark streets.

When the central Vilnius power plant began operating at the start of the 20th century, the last lamplighters set down their ladders. Their quiet craft, once a part of the city’s heartbeat, faded into history.

At the junction of Kėdainiai and Lydos Streets stands ‘The Water Carrier’ sculpture, crafted by renowned sculptor Romualdas Kvintas. The work was inspired by the poetry of Moshe Kulbak, a Jewish poet who once lived in Vilnius. This is one of the final sculptures by Kvintas, who passed away in 2018; it was unveiled in 2020 to mark the second anniversary of his death.

The work of a water carrier was extremely difficult, yet poorly paid. Those who took on the role were often among the city’s most destitute, and the job was especially common among members of the Jewish community. In the years before running water systems were widely installed in people’s homes, these humble workers successfully filled an essential niche – for no city can survive without water.

The water bearers carried water, delivering it to households, shops, and workshops. During market days, they also watered the horses of visiting farmers.  The water was drawn from wells, springs, or rivers – most often the Neris or Vilnia.

The first coachmen appeared in Vilnius around the 18th–19th centuries. Men between the ages of 16 and 70 could work as coachmen, provided they were trustworthy and had no criminal record. A strict code of conduct governed their work, requiring them to remain sober, treat passengers respectfully, not sit in the passengers’ seats, and refrain from swearing, dozing off, or smoking while on duty.

Carrying passengers was permitted only in light carriages drawn by one or two horses that had been specially designed for transporting people and constructed according to the designs approved by the city council. The pick-up and drop-off points were also regulated; coachmen could wait for customers only in designated areas – at the Town Hall Square, near the train station, and a few other spots.

By around 1900, the first lightweight carriages with rubber tyres appeared in the city. They moved faster and made less noise, though on rainy days, reckless coachmen often sped by, splashing mud onto the clothes, and sometimes even the faces, of unsuspecting passersby.

Coachmen were frequently mentioned in accident reports, as they regularly ran over pedestrians. On November 8, 1908, Vilnius recorded its first automobile accident – in Cathedral Square, a car hit a coachman, severely injured the horse, and smashed the carriage.

By the First World War, Vilnius already had a dozen or so automobiles of various makes, but they were still far outnumbered by the coachmen working in the city at the time, of whom there were over a thousand.

During the interwar period, buses and taxis became established forms of urban transport, yet coachmen remained popular among residents and visitors alike.

After the Second World War, there were still just over 160 coachmen working in Vilnius, although they would soon be replaced by motor vehicles.

Today, one might say that this long-vanished profession has been reborn – the streets are once again full of coachmen, but now we have different ride-hailing services, with drivers sporting logos for Bolt, Uber, or other taxi companies.

The Subačius Gate was a vital part of the city’s fortifications from the 16th to the 18th centuries. From an architectural standpoint, it is one of the most interesting structures of that period, standing out clearly from the other city gates as a distinctive and valuable gate. 

Together with the nearby bastion, this stretch of the city wall formed the strongest section of Vilnius’s defences.

Interestingly, from the 17th century, the city executioner of Vilnius lived in the Subačius Gate – a small apartment was built there specifically for him. By the end of the eighteenth century, a prison also operated within its walls.

The position of executioner in Vilnius is believed to have existed since the late 14th century. None of the known executioners were local residents; most were Germans from Königsberg (Kaliningrad) or Poles from Kraków. They typically lived within the walls of the Subačius Gate.

The executioner carried out the sentences handed down by the courts, ranging from the simplest punishments, such as public flogging or banishment, to death sentences: hanging, beheading, quartering, burning, amongst others.

Maintaining an executioner was a costly burden for any city. In Lithuania, this meant that few places could afford them: only Vilnius, Kaunas, and Kėdainiai employed them. The profession of executioner disappeared in the 19th century, when state authorities took over the duties, determining for themselves how and when capital punishment should be carried out. This meant that the end had indeed come for the profession of the eerie executioners of the Subačius Gate.

In the Middle Ages and the early modern period, artillerymen were known as gunners (puškoriai). Unlike today’s artillery specialists, these gunners were true masters of many trades. Not only did they fire cannons, but they also maintained and repaired ammunition, produced gunpowder, and, in some cases, even crafted firearms or cannons themselves in a forge. Of course, abilities varied, and not every gunner had the complete skill set to be able to carry out all of these tasks, but the best of them were as much craftsmen as they were soldiers. 

The first puškoriai in Lithuania were foreigners, mostly Germans, who arrived around 1382, when cannons were first introduced to the region. Soon enough, the local population also learned the trade, and the demand for gunsmiths increased sharply during times of war. Usually, each gunner had one or more assistants. The tricks of the trade and the know-how of this craft were often passed on from father to son.

By the 16th century, several cannon foundries were operating in Vilnius. One is thought to have stood in what is now the Gediminas Avenue area, roughly where the headquarters of the Bank of Lithuania are located today, and another was based in the district known now as Pūčkoriai (between Antakalnis and Naujoji Vilnia). The Lithuanian name of Pūčkoriai settlement, as you may well guess, reflects the history of the area, deriving from the old Polish word puszkarnia, which literally means ‘cannon foundry’. 

The Bastion was a fortified structure considered a key stronghold. This integral part of Vilnius’s defensive wall consisted of a square tower, a horseshoe-shaped cannon chamber (the casemate), and a tunnel connecting the two. First mentioned in written records in 1627, the Bastion was equipped with as many as twenty-four cannons, each manned by a gunner and his assistants, ready to meet the enemy whenever danger approached.