oland's detained Solidarity leader, Lech Walesa, has been transferred from the Warsaw region in a move that appears to indicate martial-law authorities have dropped any thought of substantive negotiations with him.

The transfer was announced today by government press spokesman Jerzy Urban. He refused to say where Walesa has been taken, but Roman Catholic Church sources said they believe that he is being detained in a villa in the Bieszczadzy Mountains in southeastern Poland, near the Soviet and Czechoslovak borders and at the other end of the country from his family.

Walesa's wife, Danuta, in an interview at her home in Gdansk today before she learned of the transfer, said the government had ceased talking seriously with her husband and was attempting to break his resistance through solitary confinement. Contacted by telephone later, she reacted angrily to the news of the transfer, saying Walesa obviously had been moved "so that the authorities can hold him longer."

She depicted her husband as coping well with captivity but said his enforced isolation, away from other Solidarity leaders and friends, was a major strain and left him unable to concentrate. She also said he had been surprised by the relative lack of effective initial resistance to martial law.

Mrs. Walesa, who still had not been told officially about the move, said she was hoping to visit her husband next week, either on Monday or on Thursday, the feast day of his patron saint. While Urban said Walesa's new place of detention offered better facilities for receiving family visits, Mrs. Walesa said she doubted that this was the reason for the transfer.

A senior church official said Walesa would have "plenty of opportunity for mushroom picking" in the Bieszczadzy Mountains. The church has tried unsuccessfully to persuade the government to open talks with Walesa and other leaders of Solidarity, the independent trade union suspended under martial law.

The transfer appears to have taken place shortly after Mrs. Walesa last visited her husband on May 10 with two of their seven children. In the interview, she described how she had raised his spirits by playing him a tape recording of crowds chanting his name during a May Day rally by Solidarity supporters in Gdansk.

"He's been alone more than five months--and that's a long time," she said. "It was difficult to describe the enthusiasm of the people in words so I wanted him to hear it for himself. He was pleased that the national spirit is keeping up."

Solidarity's unofficial May Day procession ended up in front of the Walesas' apartment in a modern suburb of this Baltic port city after starting off at the monument honoring shipyard workers killed in antigovernment riots in December 1970. Tens of thousands of people demanded the release of the prisoners, the ending of martial law and the reinstatement of free trade unions.

Mrs. Walesa said that after leaving her husband she had been searched by the police for the first time. She assumed that, following the publication in the West of pictures of Walesa in captivity, the authorities wanted to prevent anything else being smuggled out.

Since her husband's detention Dec. 13, she has visited him six times. Once, she said, she was allowed to stay with him for a week in the villa near Warsaw but she was now restricted to 24-hour visits and had to ask permission in advance.

Asked about his meetings with government officials, she said they still took place but nothing concrete ever emerged.

"Now they seem to be talking just for the sake of talking," she said. "They just come to see what sort of medical and psychological shape he's in" and to see "whether or not they're succeeding in changing his views."

She added: "In my opinion they want to make my husband feel depressed somehow, to compromise him in the eyes of public opinion. That's why they keep him alone. People realize that his silence means he is resisting these pressures."

Walesa has associated himself with the stand of other Solidarity leaders who have refused to take part in negotiations with the government until all those detained are released. He has insisted on the presence of his advisers in any talks.

Mrs. Walesa said her husband had been upset by the decision of Jan Kulaj, the leader of Rural Solidarity, to cooperate with the authorities. Kulaj had been kept in solitary confinement before a controversial television appearance in which he announced that he would work with the Communist-affiliated United Peasants' Party.

"Of course Lech knows what happened to Kulaj. He said that they the authorities probably have something on him, that they blackmailed him into appearing on TV." his wife said.

She said Walesa has gained weight since his detention. After getting up at 9 a.m., he spends his time reading books and newspapers and watching television. For recreation, he fishes and plays table tennis with his guards.

Mrs. Walesa said that in the first weeks of martial law her husband listened a lot to Polish-language broadcasts of foreign radio stations such as Radio Free Europe and the Voice of America but that his guards had adjusted the radio set so that it now can receive only Polish stations.

"It's difficult for him to feel what the atmosphere outside is like," she said. "He thinks that people should react differently somehow--that they should put up more resistance. I tell him that we who remain at large know that there are not so many possibilities for resistance."

Walesa is guarded by a dozen plainclothed policemen at all times, his wife said, but relations are for the most part friendly.

"There wouldn't be any point being enemies. They have to live together after all. Sometimes my husband teases them, calling them spooks, but on the whole they get on well. They treat Lech with respect," she said.

She said it was her dream that the authorities would release those detained even if martial law was retained but she had few hopes left.

"Like everybody else, I'm just waiting. It's hard to say for what--or for how long. Only waiting is left for us," she said.