In which good and bad rulers of Bohemia make or mar the fortunes of the
country, the points being chiefly in favour of the good rulers, despite
the constant intrigues, quarrels and general misconduct of the
P[vr]emysls.
Of the harm done by Boleslav III, of the sons of Dubravka the Bohemian
Princess, Boleslav the Brave and Vladivoj. Of a somewhat tiresome trio
of brothers and how the line of P[vr]emysl nearly died out. The romantic
story of Ulrich and Bo[vz]ena the village maiden, and of their
stout-hearted son B[vr]etislav, who reigned from 1037 to 1055 and
greatly restored the prestige of his country during those years. How St.
Adalbert was recovered from Poland, and a few appropriate remarks on the
subject. Of the buildings and other matters of interest which date from
the tenth and eleventh centuries and are to be seen in Prague. Of the
bridge built by Judith, Queen of Vladislav II, in 1167. Of some churches
in Prague and the round chapels. Of Vratislav, first King of Bohemia,
and his fights for the Empire. Of B[vr]etislav II, and how he greatly
exerted himself to extirpate paganism, forbidding pilgrimages to the
shrines of heathen deities at Arkona on the Island of Ruegen, Of
Sob[ve]slav, who became hereditary cup-bearer of the Empire. Of
Vladislav II, contemporary and ally of Frederick Barbarossa. Vladislav's
crusade and campaigns in Italy. Vladislav founder of the monastery
called Mount Zion at Strahov. About Strahov and the beauty and interest
thereof.
Boleslav II had left dominions more extensive than any Slavonic State
before or since could boast of; moreover, he left the name of P[vr]emysl
in high repute for piety and ability. Boleslav III, his son, undid all
the good his predecessors had brought to their dominions and their
reputation; in fact, within a few years of his accession he found
himself stripped of all his belongings save Bohemia, and his hold on
even that country was under dispute at times. It appears that Boleslav
III was constitutionally unable to agree with anyone; contemporary
chroniclers describe this Prince as cruel, avaricious and distrustful.
The sons of Czech have always had a strong objection to paying for what
they do not want, and that is what Boleslav was always expecting of
them. He became so unpopular among his own people, who were called upon
to finance him in his troubles with his brothers, that they invited
their Duke's cousin, Prince Vladivoj, brother of Boleslav the Brave of
Poland, to intervene. Vladivoj died young, so his brother took charge
of all that had been the Bohemian realm, and incorporated it with his
own; Boleslav of Poland, it is said, even contemplated making Prague the
capital of his Empire. There is no trace of anything he did for the
city, so we must assume that he did not carry out his intention: he was
probably prevented by the inevitable friction with the Germans, who
always found some excuse for putting down any attempt at founding a
strong Slavonic Empire. In this instance King Henry II intervened on
behalf of Boleslav III, who had stooped to becoming a vassal of the
German King, with the title of Duke. After the usual fighting, Boleslav
III was restored to his country for a short period in which he
distinguished himself by wholesale assassination of his opponents. He
eventually died in Poland as prisoner of Boleslav the Brave. Meanwhile,
what with his cantankerous brothers, with Polish ambitions and German
ill-will, Bohemia was having a sorry time.
In all this unseemly wrangling among the members of the P[vr]emysl
family I find only one bright spot of human interest, and that is the
little affair of Ulrich and Bo[vz]ena. All three brothers, Boleslav III,
Jaromir and Ulrich, the last surviving P[vr]emysls, were childless, and,
failing heirs, their inheritance would pass to Poland, to the children
of Dubravka. A P[vr]emysl successor was wanted; Ulrich and Bo[vz]ena
provided one. It is undoubtedly true that Ulrich was already married
when he encountered Bo[vz]ena, the beautiful village maiden, while she
was washing the family linen at the village pump. It was a picturesque
event, this meeting of the young prince and the village maiden, and has
been satisfactorily illustrated by a patriotic Bohemian painter. You
will find highly coloured reproductions of that artist's work in a shop
window on the Narodni T[vr]ida, all illustrating events in the history
of the P[vr]emysl family, and when you see what Bo[vz]ena looked like
you will not blame Ulrich. Anyway, Ulrich married Bo[vz]ena. How he
managed this without causing complications is not our affair; the
ancient chroniclers were satisfied; they insist on the legality of this
union, and as we know them to have been very particular in such
matters, it is not for us to discuss the point. You must also remember
that Christianity was yet young among the Czechs and that they had been
strongly addicted to the amiable habit of polygamy. You may also gather
what was the attitude of Bohemian chroniclers from the remark which
Dalimil, the contemporary of Ulrich, puts into the latter's mouth:
"Rather would I entrust myself to a Bohemian peasant girl than that I
should take a German queen for my wife. Every heart clings to its own
nation; therefore would a German woman less favour my language. A German
woman will have German servants; German will she teach my children."
From this remark you will understand that the Bohemians thoroughly
appreciated their neighbours.
Ulrich reverted to type, and once again the stout peasant stock of Czech
came to the rescue of a fading dynasty; the son of Ulrich and Bo[vz]ena,
B[vr]etislav I, was destined to restore the house of P[vr]emysl to a
position more in keeping with its great traditions. Before succeeding
his father, B[vr]etislav was given an opportunity of proving what good
stock he came from. Boleslav of Poland had died, his sons quarrelled
over their heritage, and their dissensions gave the neighbours an excuse
for interfering. One of these neighbours was King Stephen of Hungary,
afterwards called "the Saint." He had only recently been converted from
paganism, but he took part in this Polish dispute just as if he had been
a ripe old Christian monarch of some standing. Stephen had the happy
thought of taking Moravia for himself, no doubt in pious memory of his
ancestor who first stole it. The same idea occurred to Ulrich of
Bohemia, who sent young B[vr]etislav into Moravia, where the latter
defeated the Magyars rather badly; Moravia thereupon was added to
Bohemia, whereas Slovakia remained with Hungary.
B[vr]etislav failed to realize his ideal of forming a strong national
Slavonic State, independent of German rule--he had too strong an Emperor
against him, Henry III; but he certainly restored Bohemia and the
P[vr]emysl dynasty to a position of some importance in Europe. He was,
however, unable to shake off the German grasp of his country; German
armies had arrived before Prague and threatened that city with
destruction, so B[vr]etislav submitted to the inevitable, paid tribute
to the Emperor and spent the last and peaceful years of his reign in
restoring order and prosperity to his country. The city of Prague
benefited by the bravery of B[vr]etislav, for as a result of that
Prince's successful campaign against the Poles the body of St. Adalbert,
whom you have met before as Bishop of Prague, was captured by the
Bohemians and restored to their capital. There was, I believe, some
trouble about this operation of B[vr]etislav. The ruler and people of
Poland had appointed Adalbert as their patron saint; he had been killed
in their country, had been buried there some time, and had even a
cathedral to himself at Gnesen. The Pope launched a bull or two at
B[vr]etislav over this business. I do not know whether any of them took
effect. The Bohemians were ordered to return Adalbert to the Poles, but
I do not know that they did so, neither have I seen him lying about in
Prague, probably because I have not looked for him. Adalbert is the
patron saint of Emaus in Prague among many other churches in Bohemia,
but no doubt he can find time to patronize Poland as well. Anyway, I do
not anticipate any strained relations between the Republics of
Czecho-Slovakia and Poland on this account; both countries are more
interested in a yet older fossilized form of creation--coal to wit.
With the best will in the world it is difficult to rise to any
enthusiasm over the majority of Bohemia's rulers in the eleventh and
twelfth centuries. There seems to have been nothing of beauty or
interest in individual P[vr]emysls to break the monotony of endless
quarrels between brother claimants to the throne and appeals of
unsuccessful rivals to their German neighbour, whose decision would be
entirely guided by the desire for a further weakening of Bohemia. Prague
has little to show in the way of architectural interest dating from the
eleventh and twelfth centuries, but what there is is good. I doubt
whether any other city in Europe has much to show of that period of
transition from Romanesque to Gothic: whatever there was has generally
been pulled down or built over when the great flood of Gothic poured
over Europe some century or so later. But if there is little to see in
Prague which can be clearly traced to the two centuries under
discussion, it is of interest in showing the expansion of the town since
Libu[vs]a's prophecy concerning it. The Hrad[vs]any came in for some
attention. Another church, dedicated to All Saints and built up very
near the Basilica of St. George, dates back to the eleventh century.
There are, or were till recently, distinct traces of work dating from
that century to be found in the Karmelitska Ulice, that thoroughfare
which leads from the Malo Stranske Nam[ve]sti towards Smichov. We have
already noted that the Jews had settled in this part of Prague towards
the end of the tenth century and that some of them had been ordered
across the river to another settlement of their kind, so there must have
been good steady business to be done in Prague. I have often wondered
how and where people crossed the Vltava previous to 1167 when Judith,
Queen of Vladislav II, built a bridge very near the site of the present
Charles Bridge. Judith's bridge was eventually carried away by floods,
but the Mala Strana bridgehead tower remains; you see it with its squat
tower and broad chisel-shaped steeple, rising up beside the more
graceful and ornate tower of the present bridge, which was new in the
early years of the fourteenth century. The stout tower built by Judith
is a very interesting study of architecture; it has had a long life of
usefulness, having been used for many years as a lock-up for the froward
youth of the neighbourhood, and it is still inhabited. This sturdy
remnant of Judith's bridge, which you can see from my terrace, is the
only trace I have found of means of communication between the two banks
of the river. There must have been considerable traffic, as we know, for
instance, how St. Wenceslaus was in the habit of going to and fro
between Hrad[vs]any and Vy[vs]ehrad. The river was probably fordable in
several places, but it is rather a treacherous stream with a swift
current and an uncertain bottom; some Hungarian troops attempted to
cross it by a ford on a certain memorable occasion, and were swept away
to perdition. Yet even before Judith's time there must have been need of
a bridge. The town and various settlements around it were growing up, as
is proved by the number of churches which were considered necessary or
appropriate. The Hrad[vs]any was very well off in that respect. Then
there was the Church of St. Cosmas and Damian, where you now see the
towers of Emaus, and in the twelfth century, if not at the end of the
eleventh, the foundations of the Tyn Church were laid. This period also
has left three quaint little Romanesque chapels in various parts of
Prague. They are very well preserved, these little round chapels, and
the fact that they are pretty far apart suggests the extent to which
Prague had expanded by the end of the twelfth century. There is one of
these chapels dedicated to St. Martin, on Vy[vs]ehrad, another to St.
Longinus, rather difficult to find, some half-mile north-east of Emaus;
and a third, the oldest of all, the Chapel of the Holy Cross, stands
near the old Town Tower of the Charles Bridge. There is also a
seventeenth-century _baroque_ imitation of these Romanesque chapels
under the riverside slope of the Letna Hill, which is not worth
troubling about.
While Christianity was striking its roots yet deeper into the soil of
Bohemia, the rulers of that country were being drawn into the quarrel
between the spiritual and the would-be temporal head of the Church; the
"Investiture Strife" gave Vratislav, son of B[vr]etislav I, an
opportunity of strengthening his independence and increasing the
importance of his country. He took sides with Emperor Henry IV against
one of the strongest of the Popes, Gregory VII. The Emperor's Bohemian
allies took part in many of that monarch's battles, chiefly against the
Saxons, who appear to have been hereditary enemies of the sons of Czech,
and the victory at Hohenburg on the Unstrutt in 1075 is attributed to
the bravery of the Bohemian troops. Six years later Bohemian troops
helped Henry IV in his attack on Rome, and their leader, Wiprecht of
Groitch, was one of the first to scale the walls of the Eternal City.
The Czechs have always been good hearty fighters, and of the three
hundred who set out to help the Emperor against Rome only nine returned
home to Bohemia. The Germans, even in those early days, were thorough
utilitarians.
[Illustration: ST. MARTIN'S, VY[vS]EHRAD. B.G.B. 1912.]
As reward for his many and great services Henry IV promoted Vratislav to
the rank of King. It appears to have been, as it were, brevet-rank only;
it was not hereditary. Nevertheless it was a great day for Prague when
the ruler of Bohemia was crowned with the golden diadem, presented by
the Emperor himself. There was no doubt that King Vratislav had earned
the distinction--he had done well by himself, by his country and by his
ally the Emperor--so no doubt the Basilica Church of St. George on the
Hrad[vs]any and its congregation did all honour to the crowning of
Bohemia's first King. It is also interesting to note that Vratislav had
"contributed to the party funds"; he had lent money to the Emperor. This
should strike a homely, familiar note among us.
The frescoes in St. George's Church probably date from the time of King
Vratislav; there was a distinct revival of love for things beautiful in
those days when the peoples were beginning to see the light that was
rising, gently but persistently, over the subsiding chaos that had
claimed Europe for the past three centuries and more. True, the world
was still a confused and worrying sort of place to live in; apart from
the soul-sickening public quarrels between Rome and the Empire, there
was a good deal of private enterprise in that line between all manner of
petty potentates. Nevertheless there was some improvement to be noted,
first in the tendency of fostering national feeling in place of a
confused cosmopolitanism, secondly by the effects of the Cluny movement
in its endeavour to reform the Church. The tendency of the time
expressed itself in beautiful illuminated manuscripts, and Prague is
lucky in the possession of many such. It is probable that Duke
B[vr]etislav II, grandson of the first prince of that name, encouraged
the expression of his people's religious and national sentiments, in
those illuminated manuscripts of the Bible, of Missals, and the
"Cantionales," those works so beautiful in design, so loyal and sincere
of execution, their colours as fresh as when the artist's hand withdrew
reluctantly from the finishing touch.
B[vr]etislav II had had a misfortune in his youth; he had caused a
courtier of the name of Zderad to be murdered. Zderad had insulted the
young Prince; what with that and the courtier's unpronounceable name it
is no wonder that B[vr]etislav was roused to act indiscreetly. He found
it advisable to spend some years abroad after this little affair, and
only returned home when his father's neck was broken out hunting.
B[vr]etislav took up the anti-pagan line very strongly. It seems
strange, but there was still a certain amount of paganism lurking in
secret places in Bohemia. It was not safe to indulge in heathen rites at
home, but there were places abroad where it was still possible. One of
these places is still a fashionable holiday resort, the Island of Ruegen
in the Baltic Sea. Here there was a temple at Arkona, to Svantovit, the
god of air and light, besides a local and household deity president over
all Ruegen, called Rugevit. I can quite imagine a couple of Czech
householders, law-abiding and good church-goers, conspiring to get away
from the family for a bit and take a trip to Ruegen, just for a flutter
with the old gods. What with the secrecy required, as both Ruler and
Church forbade the practice of worshipping Slavonic deities, the
practice must have been quite as exciting as _petits chevaux_.
Whether it was this interference with the Ruegen pilgrims or his action
in stamping out the custom of holding religious services in the language
of the country, B[vr]etislav II was not popular; he was eventually
murdered by some of his nobles. The successors of B[vr]etislav seem to
have been cantankerous and inefficient; it is wearisome to read of those
hopeless people throwing away the fruits of good work done by such stout
fellows as B[vr]etislav I or even the hearty heathen Boleslav. In all
this distressing muddle of brothers, cousins, etc., fighting, getting
beaten and running off to the German Emperor to howl to him about it,
there are occasional bright spots. So for instance, one Sob[ve]slav, who
came to the throne in 1125, and found things in the usual mess, with
half the country against him; nevertheless he managed to beat Emperor
Lothair most heartily. Lothair had crossed the Giant Mountains in order
to support the claims of some other P[vr]emysl, had met Sob[ve]slav's
hastily gathered army at Kulm, near Teplitz, and had been handsomely
beaten. Not only that, but Lothair and the remnants of his army were
surrounded, and it was up to the Bohemian Prince to impose terms this
time. Sob[ve]slav was thus able to improve the status of Bohemia
considerably, and he added to his country's dignity by receiving the
high office of hereditary cup-bearer of the Empire, from Conrad III,
Lothair's successor. Cupbearer in perpetuam to an Empire sounds very
important and suggests great possibilities of influencing people. As a
matter of fact the office gave Bohemia certain rights within the Empire
which went some way to balance the obligations; nevertheless German ties
were fastened yet more securely on the sons of Czech.
Sob[ve]slav was succeeded by his nephew Vladislav, another P[vr]emysl to
rise to royal rank. This Prince passed through the usual troubles before
securing the throne to himself, and was perforce driven to invoke the
German Emperor Conrad in order to establish his sovereign rights over
the whole of Bohemia and Moravia. The reign of Vladislav I (as King) is
relieved by a certain picturesqueness, by a touch of romance, from the
usual sordid course of events in the life of the P[vr]emysl dynasty with
its rivalries, treachery, conspiracies and other social amenities of the
time. There is even something picturesque in the fact that the Pope had
felt obliged to send Cardinal Guido with a special mission to establish
order among the Bohemian clergy. These amiable gentlemen would persist
in entering the bonds of matrimony; if Bohemian ladies were as
attractive then as they are to-day, I feel the sincerest sympathy with
those gallant priests. It is easy to imagine what trouble arose when
Cardinal Guido insisted that all married priests should either separate
from their wives or renounce their dignities, and there were some
clerics of the highest rank, among them a couple of deans, who were
called upon to this act of renunciation. The immediate result of the
Pope's interference was that the Bohemians chased his legate from Prague
to Eger, where the latter succumbed to his injuries. This was certainly
a picturesque incident, but it was not appreciated by the Papacy, which
was hotly in favour of Cluniac principles. There were other picturesque
events pending which forced a compromise even on Rome; the second
crusade, much encouraged by Cluny, was in course of preparation, and as
all Christian countries of Europe were expected to take part, the time
was not propitious for bringing pressure to bear on Bohemia's ruler. He
had not arrived at royal dignity when the Guido episode took place; it
was within the first year of his reign. The royal crown was bestowed on
Vladislav a few years later by another romantic personage, Frederick
Barbarossa, in consideration of Bohemian assistance against the
Emperor's enemies in Northern Italy. Vladislav marched an army of ten
thousand men from Bohemia, took part in the siege of Milan, and himself
killed Dacio, one of the leaders of the Milanese.
I doubt whether Vladislav is entitled to an effigy with feet crossed, as
his part in the second crusade was not remarkable. He took his troops to
Asia, left them there under the charge of King Louis VII of France, and
returned to his own country via Constantinople, where he indulged in a
little intriguing with the Greek Emperor Emanuel. This seems to have
given the flamboyant Greeks the impression that Bohemia's King had
become a vassal of their Emperor; they were disillusioned some years
later when Vladislav assisted Stephen III on to the throne of Hungary
against the Emperor Emanuel's choice.
It is all very fine and thrilling to read about picturesque princes,
romantic rulers, and we shall hear of several in the history of Prague,
but they are not necessarily an asset to a country that wishes to
develop in peace and consolidate within its own boundaries. It is
difficult to see what good Vladislav did by his trip to Asia with the
crusaders; he left his troops in charge of a foreigner and created a
distinctly wrong impression on another people while on his way home.
Again, he was romantically brave in Italy at the head of a Bohemian army
which was much in excess of the numbers required of him by his agreement
with Barbarossa. Of this large army very few returned to their native
country. There is, however, one deed by which Vladislav becomes entitled
to undying merit: he founded the Monastery of Strahov.
Where the strip of land which connects the Hrad[vs]any Hill with that of
Pet[vr]in, mentioned in Libu[vs]a's forecast, dips a bit before rising
again, there Vladislav laid the foundations of Strahov. This happened in
1140, what time Vladislav was beset by enemies of his own house, who
disputed his right to the throne; he was even assailed in his capital,
Prague, by another P[vr]emysl, Conrad of Znoymo. Nevertheless the walls
of Strahov Monastery rose over the terraced valley that dips down into
Prague between Pet[vr]in and Castle Hill. The good monks of Strahov,
illumined by the light that spread from Cluny, soon made of their house
a home of learning and piety, a haunt of peace where weary souls found
rest from strife and turmoil; Mount Zion, the people called this sacred
spot, and the name still clings to it despite the many vicissitudes
through which it has passed. It must have been a-building when the
enemies of Vladislav attacked the city, it was destroyed when the
Hussite wars broke out over Bohemia, and it suffered at the hands of the
Swedes during the War of Thirty Years. But the good work that Vladislav
the King had started on Mount Zion of Strahov was not allowed to perish;
the monastery re-arose from its ashes after each visitation, with
renewed strength, arose to look out over Prague from its terraced
height. While looking out over the city with the eye of a friend full of
loving understanding, the congregation on Mount Zion pursued the even
tenor of its way, collecting treasures for the benefit of future
generations. The library, a wonderful sight and soothing after the
turmoil in the streets of Prague, contains many of those collected
treasures, instruments used by the astronomer Tycho de Brahe, the works
of Racusani the philosopher, a gift of Sir Thomas Saville to Hajek the
sixteenth-century biologist, astronomer, professor of Prague University,
who had studied in Milan and Bologna and had visited England in 1589.
Then there are the poetical works of Elizabeth Weston of a noble
English family, who had made her home in Prague and died here in 1612. A
very learned lady this, but, it would seem, unhappy. You may see her
tomb in St. Thomas's Church in Mala Strana, just beyond that imposing
Jesuit Church of St. Nicholas, on it the following inscription:--
D. O. M. S. B. M.
Elisabethae Joannae Westonae
Nobilitate patriae Britanniae,
Seculi nostri Sulpitiae,
Cui nomen dant litterae illibati
Minervae floris
Suadae decoris
Musarum delicii
Foeminarum exempli.
Strahov Monastery has, I hope, passed through its vicissitudes and has
entered at last into an existence of undisturbed usefulness. Of its
earliest appearance there are neither record nor any traces left; the
storms that passed over Bohemia have obliterated any outward sign of the
Mount Zion which Vladislav founded and whither generations of the pious
sons of Czech went up to find peace. One of the first of these was
Vladislav himself; weary of war and worn out by internal dissensions, he
abdicated and retired to Strahov to end his days.
Strahov was entirely rebuilt in the seventeenth century, and has
withstood the enemies of Bohemia from without and within, taking no
irreparable harm from the open attack of Frederick of Prussia in the
eighteenth century or the covert attack of those hostile to the faith it
has stood for down the ages. The quaintly shaped spires of St. Mary's
Church with its three aisles, its glorious organ the largest in all
Bohemia, stand out in bold relief amidst the terraced garden and
orchards tended with fond care. The belfry is silent, its bells were
sacrificed to the cause of the Habsburgs in the Great War; you may see
plaster casts of them in the library. Here you may feast your eye on
gloriously illuminated manuscripts and wonder at the ingenious
inventions of one or other good brother who sojourned here a while on
his way to the "Abiding City." There is, for instance, a model of the
first lightning-conductor. Country folk, when they first saw it, crossed
themselves, thinking this the work of the devil. The visitors' book in
the library shows signatures of men famous in history, among them our
Nelson, who, in company of Sir William and Lady Hamilton, visited
Strahov on September 29, 1800. The strict rules of the congregation of
Premonstratensians allow ladies to visit only the library, which is
approached from the outer courtyard; the picture gallery is
unfortunately closed to them, a small collection but of value, its gem
is Duerer's "Rosary Feast."
[Illustration: STRAHOV MONASTERY.]
So stands Strahov, Mount Zion, between the Castle Hill and Pet[vr]in
looking out over Prague from its terraced gardens and its bower of
fruit-trees. It is always beautiful, this haunt of old-world peace,
whether the garden and the orchard be all a mass of blossom creamy white
in the sunshine, pale purples in the shadows, in the shade of midsummer
foliage when Golden Prague below glitters in the midday heat, or in
autumn when the valley is all a blaze of gold and russet, and the
distant hills stand out in strong blue masses. Winter also brings
fascination. Strahov, its many windows severely closed and reflecting a
sullen sky, seems to stand out more austerely from among the gaunt
tree-trunks, their grey and sombre outlines broken by a fantasia of
gnarled and twisted branches glittering under snow. But within those
walls, in the high altar's mysterious depth, in the long bare corridors
and tiny cells where useful work continues as it has done for centuries,
there is the "peace that passeth understanding."