How Agnieszka Machówna Fooled Polish Nobility with a False Identity

A Tale of Deception, Ambition, and a Peasant’s Rise and Fall

Agnieszka Machówna, a peasant from the village of Kolbuszowa in Poland, carved her name into history not through noble birth but through a cunning web of lies that duped Polish aristocrats and beyond. Born into humble circumstances, with a father who beat drums for the military and a mother who toiled as a servant in the grand Lubomirski Palace, her early life seemed destined for obscurity. Yet, her story is one of extraordinary ambition, fueled by an education rare for her class and a boldness that defied the rigid social hierarchy of 17th-century Poland. Tutored by a parish priest at the behest of Duchess Helena Tekla Lubomirska, she learned to read, write, and mimic the graces of the elite, skills she later wielded to pass as a noblewoman. After her mother’s death, she was raised by aunts, tending geese and enduring a harsh peasant existence, but her sights were set far higher. At 16, she wed Bartosz Zatorski, a court Cossack, only to flee his cruelty, setting the stage for her audacious transformation into a figure who would captivate and deceive the Polish gentry.

Her grand deception began when she reinvented herself as Aleksandra Zborowska, claiming to be the daughter of Marcin Zborowski, a member of a noble family whose Rytwiany branch had nearly faded into obscurity. This choice was strategic; with few left to dispute her story, she concocted a tale of surviving childhood peril by hiding from enemy soldiers in rural manors, a narrative that lent her an air of mystery and authenticity. Arriving in Kraków and then Warsaw around 1670, she rented fine quarters and hired a servant to bolster her façade, quickly catching the eye of the wealthy and powerful. Her first notable conquest was an Austrian officer named Kollati, whom she married despite her existing union with Zatorski, plunging into bigamy with little hesitation. This alliance took her to Vienna, where she dazzled in aristocratic salons until Kollati grew wise to her ruse and cast her aside. Undaunted, she returned to Poland, setting her sights on Stanisław Rupniowski, the castellan of Biecz. Their marriage whisked her to Paris, but his sudden death left her scrambling to secure his estates, a move that drew suspicion. Her final husband, Stanisław Domaszewski, starosta of Łuków, proved her undoing when he accepted a bribe to betray her to authorities, unraveling the intricate tapestry of her lies.

The legal reckoning came swiftly when Anna Szembekowa, Rupniowski’s sister, hauled Machówna before the Crown Tribunal in Lublin, accusing her of fraud. Machówna dodged the summons, but her past caught up when Zatorski testified to her true identity and first marriage, while the widow of Marcin Zborowski debunked her noble lineage. Facing charges of forgery, theft, adultery, and perjury, she stood defiant but powerless as the tribunal sentenced her to death. On July 12, 1681, in Lublin, her life ended in execution, a stark end to a saga that had gripped Poland’s elite. Her ability to deceive was no mere fluke; it thrived in an era when noble power waned, and identity checks were lax, allowing a woman of her wit and allure to slip through societal cracks. Her education, gained by observing noble children and refined by her priestly tutor, armed her with the poise and polish to fool courts in Poland, Austria, and France, a remarkable feat for someone of her origins.

What sets Machówna’s tale apart is its blend of grit and glamour, a peasant’s climb to infamy that mirrored a twisted fairy tale. Her story, preserved in historical accounts and later dramatized in Polish theater, reveals a woman who exploited her beauty and intellect to bend a patriarchal world to her will, if only for a time. The Crown Tribunal’s role in her downfall, often mired in its own corruption, underscores the era’s chaotic justice, while her multiple marriages highlight her knack for targeting influential men. From posing as a Zborowska to claiming estates that were never hers, she orchestrated a scandal that rippled across borders, leaving a legacy as Poland’s first notorious celebrity. Her life offers a window into the fluidity of class and gender in a time of upheaval, where a peasant girl could, for a fleeting moment, outwit the nobility she so desperately sought to join. Sources like Wikipedia, Ciekawostki Historyczne, and Teatr NN paint a vivid picture of her exploits, ensuring her name endures as a symbol of cunning ambition and its perilous price.