Is another long one, but the last of _A Terrace in Prague_. It tells
little about Kings of Bohemia, and more about Jesuits and the work they
left behind to mark the influence they wielded. There are churches and
statues of their erection, but you are left to decide for yourself
whether you like those works or not. Several historic figures appear on
the scene: Tilly, Waldstein, Koenigsmark the Swedish General, and his
chaplain, Dr. Klee. Mention is also made of some Britons, among them one
with the homely name of Brown, an honest soldier who lies buried here in
Prague. A tale of a supernatural event. A further talk of the river and
about excursions. Finally, an attempt at an epilogue.
You will, I hope, agree with me that a man who sits upon a terrace and
writes about the things he sees and what he thinks about them is
entitled to bring his observations to a close whenever he considers it
fit to do so. That point is now within reach. From the first I warned
you that this is not a guide-book, and therefore not under the
obligation of giving you a full and detailed catalogue of all the sights
of Prague and how to see them. There is little more that I propose to
tell you, it being my object to entice you out here to see for yourself.
I will wait for you on my terrace, if you like, and while waiting will
cast a final glance round the scene that has, I confess, acquired a
strong hold of me.
The Hrad[vs]any, seen on a dull, chill day, always recalls to me what I
have read about those days since the Bohemians lost their all on the
White Mountain, until they broke free again only a few years ago. On
dull days the long, plain, featureless walls of the Hrad[vs]any seem the
very expression of life under the later Habsburg Kings of Bohemia. They
were, on the whole, worthy, well-meaning sovereigns, their chief trouble
being, it would seem, a hereditary incapacity for seeing any point of
view but that to which their forbears, Jesuit-trained, and of limited
outlook, had educated them. They were quite impervious to new ideas,
very tenacious of old ones, and fully convinced of their own divine
right. The Habsburg line of policy towards Bohemia was laid down by
Ferdinand II--or shall I say for that monarch?--at the Te Deum sung in
St. Stephen's Cathedral, at Vienna, to celebrate the victory of Rome
over Bohemia's religious freedom. It would seem as if the King had
moulded his policy on the text of the sermon preached by Brother
Sabrinus, the Capuchin friar, on that occasion: "Thou shalt break them
with a rod of iron; Thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's
vessel." In carrying out this policy the King of Bohemia was ably
assisted by the Jesuits. This congregation had been introduced into
Bohemia by a former Ferdinand whose acquaintance we have made; the
Jesuits had therefore stores of useful local knowledge at their command
when they set about complementing the material victory won on the White
Mountain by a spiritual conquest. The first thing was to re-establish
Roman ritual, and the church chosen for this act was St.
Martin's-in-the-Wall, where, as I have told you, the Sacrament was first
given in both kinds by Jacobelius in 1414. Then it was thought fit to
remove the statue of King George Podiebrad from the west front of the
Tyn Church. The effigy showed this national hero pointing with his drawn
sword towards the chalice above his head, of which he had been such a
valiant defender.
Then followed persecution, exile, imprisonment and corporal punishment,
in addition to the turmoil and sufferings of the Thirty Years' War.
Ferdinand's father-confessor was a Jesuit, Lamormain, and under the
latter's guidance Bohemia was being brought back to the fold, while
elsewhere in Europe men like Tilly and Waldstein, whom Schiller
preferred to call Wallenstein, were taking their part in the Catholic
Reformation, with striking results, the sack of cities and the
devastation of whole countries.
After the Catholic Reformers had seen to it that the leaders of the
movement towards religious liberty had been put away, they set about
bringing the Bohemians back to Rome in their own ingenious way. We have
seen that among other remedies against heresy they introduced, or
perhaps re-introduced, a national saint, John Nepomuk, had him canonized
and an effigy of him set up on the Charles Bridge; this effigy was
followed by many others, among them that of Loyola. Each pillar of the
bridge that Charles built is crowned by the effigy of a saint or groups
of saints, with most of whom, I regret to say, I am not acquainted.
There are, however, some old friends--Saints Ludmilla, Wenceslaus,
Cosmas and Damain, and Adalbert--who are intimately connected with the
story of Prague. There is no denying the fact that these groups of
statuary give a unique touch to the massive beauty of the Charles
Bridge, but they do not appeal to me as works of art; this is probably
due to my own shortcomings. To my thinking, the statue of St. George,
which stands close by the south entrance to the cathedral on the
Hrad[vs]any, is worth the whole collection on the Charles Bridge. This
statue, the work of the brothers George and Martin of Aussenburk, was
ordered expressly by Charles IV; it is an absolutely faithful
representation of a knight's armour as worn in the fourteenth century.
For the rest, the statuary on the bridge was not run up in the space of
a few years; the work extended over about two centuries.
The first step taken towards an outward display of regained power was
the destruction by the Jesuits of that old church which stood on the
Mala Stranske Nam[ve]sti, in which, as I told you, the martyrs of 1621
partook of the Sacraments on their road to execution. The Church of St.
Nicholas then reared its stately pile out of the medley of quaint old
roofs and dormer windows immediately below my terrace. There were
changes going on among those sleepy houses too, for the victory of the
White Mountain and the Imperialist successes in the Thirty Years' War
had brought to Bohemia a swarm of foreign adventurers, officers in the
Emperor's armies, who acquired the property of exiled Bohemian nobility
and set about building palaces for themselves. They are interesting too,
these palaces in Prague, and some of them have beautiful gardens, as
those of Fuerstenberg, Lobkovitz, Schoenborn and Waldstein. The latter
palace has, indeed, more than ordinary interest on account of the
strange man who built it.
Albrecht of Waldstein was a Bohemian noble of no very high degree, and
belonged to a Protestant family. He seems to have had no great learning,
but turned when he arrived at man's estate to the dark sciences, more
especially astronomy, and from the study of this science he hoped to
look behind the veil of the future and read his fortunes in the stars.
He rose, no doubt on account of his ability, to high command, to a
position of more real power than that of his imperial master. He amassed
a vast fortune, and built himself a huge palace in Prague--from my
terrace I could point to you its long line of roofs. To build his palace
a number of smaller houses had to be pulled down, some twenty-three in
all. Then Giovanni Marini, with his Italian and Dutch architects and
landscape gardeners, set to work and built up this regal abode of
gigantic proportions, a place as vast as Waldstein's ambition and dreams
of power and conquest. For all he was of Protestant faith originally,
Waldstein had as patron saint St. Wenceslaus, to whom he built a
beautiful chapel in his palace. There are gardens and fountains, a Sala
terrena, said to be the largest in Europe; there are magnolia-trees as
old as the palace; there is a bower of black old yew-trees screening the
space where this warrior-statesman received the ambassadors of kings who
sought alliance with him. There is an uncanny air of desolation over
all this vast demesne, an air of unsatisfied ambition, of vain striving
and infinite sadness of remorse. I can picture to myself Waldstein
pacing along that alley of clipped trees, now overgrown, scheming and
planning. I am sure he was one of those whose vision showed to them the
endless possibilities of power wielded from Prague as capital of a great
Central European State, that he was of one mind with George Podiebrad,
Charles IV, P[vr]emysl Ottokar II, Libu[vs]a, and I will even include
that Frankish adventurer, Samo. But Waldstein had to reckon with a
Habsburg Emperor, King of Bohemia. The negotiations that his
generalissimo had undoubtedly been carrying on with the French and the
Swedes had roused the suspicions of Emperor Ferdinand, so Albrecht of
Waldstein, Duke of Friedland, was rendered harmless; he was murdered by
his own officers one night at Cheb (Eger,) a place you passed through on
your way from Paris to Prague.
There is a quaint old-world atmosphere that clings about the Mala
Strana, in its narrow streets and under its red roofs and dormer
windows, an atmosphere that suggests all sorts of good deeds done in a
quiet sort of way, of simple piety and a general steady level of
intellectual effort. In this, I am glad to report, some English people,
or rather Britons, took part. I have already mentioned Elizabeth Weston
and her epitaph in the church dedicated to St. Thomas. This church has
also been restored by the Jesuits; it was probably high time, for it had
been dedicated in 1316, and was occasionally the scene of a "certain
liveliness" which is likely to make repairs necessary. Apart from Swedes
who used to come round pillaging, this church seems to have had its
private, as it were parochial, troubles, a serious one in 1510, for
instance, when a fracas arose one day during service between some
Bohemians and some Hungarians. A fracas was always conducted with
rapiers and daggers in those days, and must have been a picturesque, if
inconvenient, event. It was all about a lady too, which sounds quite
likely: it was said that she was not worth all the pother: this is the
sort of thing some people would say. As a consequence of this fracas
several Bohemians were executed for robbery with violence, which sheds a
different light on the incident, but I do not think it matters much at
this distance of time.
There was a monastery attached to St. Thomas's Church, or perhaps the
other way about, and the monks had a fine library. When the Swedes,
quite uninvited, called at Prague and occupied the Mala Strana in 1648,
their commander, Koenigsmark, sent his chaplain, Master John Klee, to
pick up the library of St. Thomas's: the Swedes were great collectors of
books. Klee remained unmoved by all the entreaties of the good monks
until one of them showed him some silver spoons. Klee began to waver;
some one brought out a gilt cup; Klee fell, and left the good monks with
their books, just carrying off the trifling tokens they had given him as
souvenirs. A little kindness goes a long way.
In St. Thomas's there is also a painting ascribed to Rubens over the
altar. It looks doubtful to me, but the light was bad, and I could form
no opinion as to the picture's merit. Another painting in this church
gave me a thrill, a Virgin and Child, both black! I hoped that at last I
had discovered a picture I had heard so much of, "The Black Madonna"--a
famous picture with a stirring history. There are said to have been
several "Black Madonnas" in Bohemia at one time, and that of Stara
Boleslav was the most precious of them. St. Ludmilla herself had given
this picture to her pious grandson Wenceslaus, who, as we know, was
murdered at Stara Boleslav. Podiwin, the most trusty henchman of
Wenceslaus, buried this treasure when his master was murdered. You could
not well let it fall into the hands of Brother Boleslav, the hefty
heathen; he would have been incapable of appreciating the beautiful
legend of how the young mother, filled with anxiety on the flight into
Egypt, prayed that she and her Child might be turned black while their
exile lasted. The picture was found again in 1160 by a ploughman; the
Saxons, on their raid into Bohemia in 1635, stole it, and Ferdinand II
redeemed it and brought it back to Prague. It should be somewhere in
this city. I will leave the search for it to you, when you pay your
visit to Prague, which is surely inevitable now that you have read so
far in this book.
A tall, very thin spire, that peers up near the mass of the Nicholas
Church, reminds me of others of British race, who had their day in
Prague and, I feel sure, contributed to its reputation for religion and
piety. These were the _Englische Fraeulein_, as the German chronicler
calls them; this means English virgins or maidens--you cannot very well
call them English misses--whose Order, founded by Clara Ward in the
seventeenth century, was introduced into Prague in the eighteenth by a
Princess Auersberg. I am not sure how these ladies passed their time,
nor what their object was in life, but no doubt they maintained that
state to which they considered themselves called, and this alone should
be accounted unto them for righteousness in a gay town like Prague.
There is yet one other Briton of whom I must tell you in connection with
the story of old Prague. His name is Brown, and I met him, or rather his
effigy, in Vienna many years ago. To give him all his style and title,
or as much as I can recollect--Field-Marshal Count Brown, but for all
that a good stout Briton. He happened to serve the Empress Maria
Theresia, and served her well. When her arch-enemy, Frederick of
Prussia, came this way, Brown was one of those who came out to meet him;
was wounded and died of his wounds in Prague. Frederick of Prussia was
obliged to raise the siege of Prague, according to popular opinion
forced thereto by supernatural powers. It is said that one night, just
after the battle of Prague, fought some five miles out, at a place
called St[ve]rboholy, and while the siege of Prague was still in
progress, the guard at one of the gates was surprised by a visitor. He
appeared suddenly coming from the city on a black horse, dressed in
ancient costume and wearing, mark you, a prince's cap. He demanded right
of egress, the gate was opened, and the night-rider vanished into the
darkness. The next day came news of the Austrian victory at Kolin, and
everyone knew that one of Bohemia's ancient champions had decided the
issue of that day. The pious generally ascribe the victory to St.
Wenceslaus; if supernatural agency was at work, I am more inclined to
attribute this ingerence to Brother Boleslav, the hearty heathen: it was
more in his line.
Those dark days passed, and a century elapsed before the Prussians came
pouring in again to disturb the _Pax Austriaca_ which held Bohemia
enveloped. They came as before, over the passes and through the Gate of
Bohemia at that dear little town among the pine forests, Nachod. But all
this is ancient history, is past and over, and the serene atmosphere of
Good King Charles's gracious days is glowing over Prague again. Old
Prague, the somnolent city of centuries after Bohemia's freedom went, is
regaining her place and rising to her high mission as capital of a free
and independent State, the most promising of those that arose out of the
ruins of the Habsburg dynasty's dominions. Old customs, no doubt, are
vanishing: I have looked in vain for the bootmakers' Fidlova[vc]ka and
the tailors' revels in Stromovka, the butchers' special form of annual
rejoicing seems also to have fallen into desuetude. Like pious souls, as
they undoubtedly are, the butchers of Prague choose an ancient and
respectable church for their peculiar celebration, which, to my
thinking, has a somewhat pagan savour; indeed, the profoundly learned
trace the practice back to the days when Thor was worshipped in the
gloomy forests of Central Europe. The church chosen by the butchers for
their special ritualistic function was that dedicated to St. James, son
of Zebedee. This church was originally one of the oldest in Prague; it
stands in that close-packed quarter of the Old Town, near Our Lady of
Tyn. The present edifice shows no traces of its earliest aspect when
founded by the Order of Minorities in 1232; it has been damaged and
restored until its present appearance was evolved, but it seems to have
been loyally patronized by the Old Town butchers, whose bravery, we
know, did much towards safeguarding the city both during the Hussite
troubles and against the Swedes. Stout fellows, those old butchers of
Prague; their holiday diversion, observed each 25th of July, was to
dress up a goat, to carry it to the top of St. James's church-tower and
throw it over into the street with "music and song," in which the goat
probably joined until he arrived on the pavement below. Strenuous
enjoyment on a hot summer's day, I should say, having been in personal
contact with a goat myself on occasion, but I really cannot see where
the fun comes in. By the aid of a map you may discern the church-tower
of St. James's, but you will no longer see the goat hurtling through
space. One by one these dear old customs are dying out. Nevertheless,
our Pragers still enjoy life, more than ever I should say, contrasting
the city of to-day with that of some ten years ago. I have touched on
some of the forms of amusement and recreation you may indulge in; you
will also find a pleasant social life developing among the cheery and
hospitable Pragers. And there is always the river, which among its many
reflections, by the way, also includes those of a very modern and rather
German-looking building which stands somewhat by itself among
disconnected groups of old and new buildings, near that quaint old house
by the Jewish Cemetery. The building I refer to is called the
Rudolfinum, after one of the unhappiest of all the Habsburgs, and served
originally as an academy of music. It still fills up with sound from
time to time, though not necessarily with harmony; it is the Parliament
of the Republic of Czecho-Slovakia.
The present tendency in Prague is to erect handsome modern buildings all
along the right bank of the river: Government offices, Ministries
chiefly, will occupy them. At present the different Ministries are
housed in ancient palaces dotted about the city. Foreign Affairs are
controlled (and very ably too) from the Hrad[vs]any, as is only right,
and here are also the offices of the Presidency and the President's
official residence. The Ministry of Commerce inhabits Waldstein's
Palace, that of Finance the Palace of Clam-Galas, which is well worth
seeing on account of its portico. But I fancy it will be some time
before all the grand plans for reconstruction and bringing Prague up to
the requirements of a capital city have been carried out, and the silver
river will be quite content to reflect the glorious monuments of the
past for some little time longer. The river, no doubt, could tell us a
deal about the chances and changes of the mortals that lived on its
banks; we have seen it reflect so many events, joyous, tragic, even
comic. On the whole it wears a thoroughly contented look on its shining
countenance--the look of one who knows he is thoroughly appreciated. And
knowing this, the river has put up with all manner of trammels which men
call "regulation"; there are weirs and locks and all manner of
improvements which not even Charles IV had thought of constructing for
the good of his people. But then there are the islands left, and the
Vltava's friends, the Pragers, come down to those islands of an evening
and make music, which must reconcile the river to changed conditions.
One island, that of Kampa, has already been pointed out to you; there
are others. Of these, two count for our purpose, namely, of getting the
best we can out of glorious old Prague. Of these two islands, one is
named [vZ]ofin, which is derived from Sophie, possibly the wife of Good
King Wenceslaus. Mind you, I am not at all certain about this; there is
a large bathing establishment on this island, which not only recalls the
cheery memory of Wenceslaus, but also that of Susanna; therefore to
bring in the name of long-suffering Queen Sophie does not seem to me
quite nice: what do you think? The next island is a larger one, almost
in midstream, whereas [vZ]ofin keeps the right bank and has just enough
space for a very pretty flower-garden, and a well-kept restaurant where
you may enjoy good food and good music under the shade of the spreading
chestnut-trees. The larger island is called St[vr]elesky Ostrov, which
means that it has something to do with shooting. Indeed, in years of
long ago, in the days of bows and arrows, and crossbow and bolt, when
archery was compulsory, this island was the rendezvous of marksmen.
Being a serious concern, archery, and subsequently all manner of
shooting, was put under the spiritual charge of St. Sebastian. It is
very sporting of this saint to have accepted this honorary office. Here
again, on this island, you may dine and drink and listen to good music.
You may also shoot at glass balls with an air-gun. _Ichabod_!
* * * * *
Wherever there is a good navigable river, there you have many occasions
for excursions. Steamers of all sizes, painted in the national colours
of Bohemia, white and red, ply up and down the Vltava. In fact, from
Prague, now that all the locks are completed, you may travel down the
Vltava to the Elbe and right away to New York by water if you
will--change at Hamburg.
There are walks and excursions within easy reach of the centre of the
city. You take a tram--it is quite worth it, and is comparatively easy
on a Sunday afternoon to anyone who has played "forward" in a "rugger"
team. When buying a tram-ticket always make a sound like "pshesses" at
the conductor. He will not mind it in the least; in fact, he will take
special pains about punching your ticket, which, by virtue of the
strange noise you made, enables you to change into another tram. The
tram takes you to the outskirts, where you may start walking or just
sink into a beer-garden, according to your degree of physical fitness
after the journey. You will be pleased to hear that the edict of King
John anent no drinks within two miles of the city has been withdrawn, so
you may settle down in the Stromovka or the Kinsky Garden for the
afternoon. This latter garden, by the way, is one of the most attractive
features of Prague. One of the Kinskys sold it to the town, which makes
the best use of it and keeps it in good order for the benefit of the
public. You will also do well to visit that little chateau place which
you will see on entering the garden. In it you will find a delectable
collection of old Bohemian and Moravian costumes, furniture and
household goods which will help you to realize how and why these people
cling so tenaciously to all that pertains to their race.
Touching the Kinsky Garden is another one, also beautiful, called
Nebozizek. These gardens are separated by a wall that descends from the
top of the height down to the street below, the "Famine Wall" it is
called, for a thoughtful King of Bohemia, Charles IV again, caused it to
be built in order to provide work during a lean year some centuries ago.
A gap in the Famine Wall, which you reach by shady winding ways, gives
you a glorious and unexpected view of the Hrad[vs]any; the winding ways
lead you up to the summit of the Pet[vr]in, as this height is called,
where you may find an outlook tower, a church, a diorama showing a scene
from the Thirty Years' War, and a beer-garden--so entertainment is
provided for all tastes. There is a way down from the top of Pet[vr]in
shaded by chestnut-trees, its stages marked by fourteen chapels, the
Stations of the Cross, until it narrows in between garden walls over
which you see Strahov and the Hrad[vs]any rising in graceful dignity out
of a maze of red-tiled roofs and foliage.
Then you may wander on past Strahov and over open rolling country to the
battlefield of the White Mountain and to the Star, those places of
tragic memory in the history of Bohemia. It is usual to speak
slightingly of the immediate environment of Prague as being
uninteresting and indeed unlovely; I protest strongly against this, and
that because I have traversed the fields and lanes on foot, not dashing
through the landscape in a motor-car, and therefore claim to have seen
the scenery round about the capital. The citizens of Prague seem to be
of my way of thinking, to judge by the numbers that set out on Sundays
to the heights that encompass the town on its western side. The good
people of Prague enjoy their Sunday beer in the Star Park Restaurant,
and take their walks abroad among the pleasant valleys that run down to
the river on its left bank. From the plateau of the White Mountain you
may find your way into one of these pleasant valleys, that of the
[vS]arka. You enter it by a narrow rocky gorge, and as it has a
distinctly romantic look, legend has fastened on to it and echoes a tale
of Bohemian Amazons led by a lady of the name of [vS]arka, who was
discontented with the dominance of mere man. The legend is somewhat
obscure, but as the Bohemians, like other people, prefer a happy ending
to their stories (they have till recently known but few in their own
history), we may take it that the Amazonian ladies arrived at the
natural issue out of their troubles. Amongst these rocks is an open-air
theatre where concerts are given; here one glorious Sunday afternoon in
autumn I was once again privileged to hear Kubelik play.
The [vS]arka brook trips along gaily towards the Vltava under
overhanging rocks, by wooded slopes and fresh meadows. It tries to be
useful in driving the "Devil's Mill"; that sinister personage seems to
have started quite a number of such concerns in Bohemia. It is a
pleasant little place, tucked away among rocks and trees, and its chief
business appears to be the supplying of refreshments. Of the occasional
rocks that jut out above the trees, one claims to be the jumping-off
place of a Prague damsel who was tired of life; such places are pretty
frequent in all scenery with any pretence to romance. Given a rocky
eminence, you will always find that somebody or other has leapt
therefrom and thus given it a name, the "Maiden's Leap" or the "Knight's
Leap." It is obvious, for instance, that the Vy[vs]ehrad, the rocky
eminence on which stood the first castle of Bohemia's rulers before ever
Prague was built, should have a jumping-off story. A knight was
imprisoned in the Vy[vs]ehrad Castle; he asked leave to ride round the
castle, for change of air no doubt, when suddenly he wheeled about, put
his horse at the river and leapt--of course he got safely away. Let us
hope that the damsel of Prague who leapt into the [vS]arka Valley also
fell soft and got away.
These little valleys that lead down to the river are all the more
delightful as you seem to come upon them by surprise. The general aspect
of the high ground above the river is that of a highly cultivated
undulating country with prim and rather uninteresting-looking clusters
of white-washed cottages gathered round the church-tower with its quaint
bulbous top-hamper which, to my thinking, recalls the Dresden china
_Zwiebel Muster_ of one's youth, but is really supposed to be due to
eastern influence. Again, from the river you see wooded slopes, cherry
orchards and factory chimneys. But turning down towards the river you
suddenly come upon a jolly little tinkling brook, falling over rocks
that peep out of gorse bushes, winding about among lush meadows where
geese chatter contentedly, and seem so far remote from broad acres under
waving corn that you get the "wind on the heath" all to yourself, and
feel yet farther removed from smoking factories. And even these latter
blend with the landscape in a manner which English factories can never
acquire. They are tucked away in cosy little valleys, and even in large
groups do not disturb the harmony of the landscape. They also seem an
expression of the national character, steady and hardworking, yet
capable of fitting in completely with the joyous beauty kindly Nature
spreads all about.
* * * * *
Within easy reach of Prague, with its hundred towers, are many historic
places, landmarks in the story of Bohemia. Foremost among these is the
Castle of Karlov Tyn. It stands on a rocky spur in a wooded valley,
between four hills. You catch a sudden and fleeting glimpse of it as you
approach Prague from Paris by the line that runs along the winding River
Berounka. If you are blessed with the healthy curiosity of the traveller
in foreign parts, you will insist on a closer inspection of this lordly
castle. It looks new; this is the result of well-meant restoration
undertaken some years ago; it is really of great and historic
antiquity.
Charles IV, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire and first Bohemian King of
that name, began the building of this castle in 1348 as a fitting casket
for the Crown jewels and the charter of the land he loved. During the
reign of subsequent Kings of Bohemia, this castle, though it passed
through many of the vicissitudes peculiar to mediaeval history, kept up
its traditional importance in the land. It was besieged by the Hussites
in 1422, and parts of it were burnt down and allowed to go to ruin. Over
a century later it was restored, but suffered eclipse after the Thirty
Years' War, was even in pawn for several years, and did not quite
retrieve its fallen fortunes until after the _coup d'etat_ of 1918. The
deeds by which the two leading patron saints of Bohemia gained sanctity
are set forth in quite well-preserved frescoes.
[Illustration: A CORNER OF K[vR]IVOKLAT CASTLE.]
While on the subject of castles--and you must forgive me for
rambling,--I should like to tell you about another one that stands some
little way farther up the valley of the Berounka, tucked away out of
sight of the railway. The history of this Castle of K[vr]ivoklat dates
yet farther back than that of Karlov Tyn, for we read of its restoration
in the twelfth century by Prince Vladislaus I, a scion of the House of
P[vr]emysl. Charles IV loved to live here, and restored the place for
the first of his four wives, Blanche of Valois. Other guests more or
less distinguished visited here, some of them involuntarily; these
latter were generally lodged in the Huderka Tower suitably fitted with
oubliettes. Among these guests were two already mentioned, a leading
religious light, John Augusta, Bishop of the Bohemian Brethren, and
another less certain light, Kelly, the Irish alchemist. "Irish
alchemist" has rather a racy flavour; the idea of an Irishman engaged in
such pursuit suggests endless ingenuous possibilities. With Kelly was
also the Englishman, Dr. John Dee, who was in like condemnation. No
doubt the two were a precious pair of rogues, but King Rudolph II had
asked for trouble by encouraging alchemists from all over Europe to
visit him in Prague. The present-day compeers of Dee and Kelly are no
doubt the self-constituted experts on politics, finance, commerce and
other questions which puzzle international commissions, conferences and
such-like amenities of our times. Anyway, Dr. Dee and Mr. Kelly failed
to give satisfaction, and so were incarcerated at K[vr]ivoklat. A
charming place it must have been when the forests were denser and shy
deer tripped down to the water's edge of an evening. Charming it is
still with its haunting memories that seem to linger more fondly than at
Karlov Tyn, perhaps because the modern renovator has not been so busy
here. The quaint old corners still have an old-world, homely look which
the renovator invariably destroys. Despite the trees that add deep
shadows to the sombre masonry, you may yet call up visions of knights
tilting in the uneven overgrown courtyard while fair ladies looked on
from a balcony specially added for the purpose, and in such manner as to
produce a very quaint effect of perspective. You may yet imagine
yourself as one of a reverent crowd listening awestruck to bold
utterance of religious truths from a Bohemian preacher in that beautiful
pulpit of carved stone which still adorns the gateway that leads to the
inner court. And if you have the gift of placing yourself back among
those earnest seekers after truth who lived in and suffered for their
faith, you will draw nearer to the real spirit of the sons of Bohemia.
And this reflection leads to yet another historic spot within easy reach
of Prague, Tabor. This is a pleasant little town some two hours by rail
from the capital. Seen from the railway as it stands on a gentle rise,
its tall church-tower and red roofs reflected in the waters of a winding
lake, it looks what it is now, a very peaceful spot. But if you go about
its narrow streets you come upon many relics of the town's eventful
past. It comes as a surprise to find that the side towards the south,
towards Austria, descends precipitously to the River Losnice, a striking
contrast to the placid lake which first greeted you. This lake was
called Jordan, the city Tabor, by those who, following the teaching of
Hus, ordered their lives and thoughts by Holy Writ. The Hussites under
their leader [vZ]i[vz]ka, one of the ablest generals of all time, had
decided to build them a city and fixed upon this site for the sake of
its undoubted strategic value and its capacity for defence.
Tabor, however, takes me rather too far afield; I mentioned it for the
benefit of those who study archaeology; these will find interesting
instances of Bohemia's fifteenth-century architecture in this the
stronghold of [vZ]i[vz]ka and the followers of Hus.
* * * * *
[Illustration: TABOR BY THE WATERS OF JORDAN.]
In these my reflections on things seen and noted from "a Terrace in
Prague" I have endeavoured to arouse your interest in this grand old
city. I have pointed out to you from the terrace of my choice monuments
to a glorious past, to a glowing vital history of this the capital of an
ancient realm. I leave it now to you to fill in the gaps I have left,
either purposely--for I want you to come here and see for yourself--or
inadvertently; and I have already admitted my limited knowledge of a
great subject. So come out here and choose your point of view, and carry
on the reflections I have started; there is endless scope. As Luetzow
says: "When throwing a stone through a window in Prague you throw with
it a morsel of history." This is not meant to encourage stone-throwing,
a practice that meets with little appreciation here. What is meant is
that there is a vast field lying before you, as you look out over the
city, a field which will render you good returns for any attempt you
make to cultivate it. If your outlook be academic, at your feet lies one
of Europe's oldest universities; if your interests turn to architecture,
this little work alone should give you some idea of the wealth of
material lying here to your hand. If you are one of those rare mortals
who study history for the sake of applying its moral to the conduct of
the world's affairs, then you have here a deep well from which to draw
inspiration. Look at those figures that rise above the heads of their
fellows in the shadowy pageant of Bohemia's capital, at those whose
vision carried well beyond the narrow frontiers of their country and the
limitations of their age. Ottokar II and Charles IV, George Podiebrad
and Waldstein, all these saw the inner meaning of Libu[vs]a's prophecy:
"I see a grand city, the fame of which reaches to the skies."
Libu[vs]a's prophecy has been fulfilled, her forecast of Prague's place
in the world has come true. In the days of Ottokar II, Prague held high
place as a capital of a great State. Charles IV rescued this city that
he loved, and made of it the rallying point of Central European culture.
King George Podiebrad felt the high importance of this his native
country's capital, and from it he wove his web of treaties and
agreements for the betterment of Central Europe by means of his League
of Peace. Dark Waldstein had formed great and ambitious plans, possibly
not so altruistic as those of his spiritual kinsmen, the great men
mentioned above. You have seen how one after another these giants of
Bohemia saw their plans brought to nought. Ottokar II succumbed to the
first Habsburger that threw his shadow over Bohemia. The successors of
Charles and George Podiebrad could not stand up against the forces of
reaction that beat down Bohemia's efforts towards finding herself and
taking her rightful place in the comity of nations. Of Waldstein's plans
and ambitions there are only dark traces, obscure indications; he, a man
of penetrating vision, must have realized the possibilities of his
country, and must have been bent on securing for it the place it is
entitled to. But he in his turn perished at the instigation of a
Habsburger. And so we see the searching light of greatness light up the
city from time to time, and in almost regular intervals of a century at
a time; then came heavy banks of cloud to obscure the fair prospect. The
clouds have rolled away again; again bright sunshine draws out the
memories of Golden Prague and raises hopes of a glorious future. This
time the fate of Prague and the land and people she stands for does not
depend upon dynastic considerations nor the will or vision of one ruler
or another. The destinies of Prague are in the hands of a sovereign
people; it is theirs to make or mar them.
Here is matter for deep study, such as will in time justify prediction.
Mark also well the signs of the times as you look out over Prague, and
note whether the spirit of the great departed has not returned to inform
the people of Bohemia and of the lands that make up the Succession State
of the old Austrian Empire, the Republic of Czecho-Slovakia.
If I have succeeded in arousing your interest, my task is completed; it
is then for you to take up the tale--"From a Terrace in Prague."
INDEX
Aaron, 113
Abbeville, 150
Adalbert, Bishop, 84, 92, 141, 161, 237
Adela of Austria, 118
Adolph of Nassau, 132
Adrian I, Pope, 161
Adriatic, 119
AEneas Silvius (_see_ Pope Pius II), 27
AEthelstan, King of England, 76
Aix-la-Chapelle, 76, 159
Albrecht of Habsburg, 132, 133
Alexander Borgia, Pope, 209
Alexander III, Pope, 126
All Saints' Church, 93
Amarapura, 24
Andrew, Bishop, 108, 109
Anne of Bohemia, 176, 177, 185
Arabia, 28
Arkona, 97
Arles, 151
Arnold, 213
Arnulf, German King, 65, 74
Arpad, 74
Arras, Matthew of, 153, 159
Arthur, King of Britain, 136
Aube, 39
Augsburg, 82
Austria, 21, 117, 118, 132, 143, 251
Avari, 26
Avignon, 143, 144, 151, 153
Babenberg, 118
Baikal, Lake, 117
Bale, 219
Baltic, 119
Bas Schevi von Treunberg, 114
Bavaria, 16, 22, 53, 134, 156, 199
Beatrice of Bourbon, 139
Bechyn, Tobias of, 133
Bela, King of Hungary, 118, 119
Belfort, 39
Belna, 55
Benedictines, 142
Bene[vs] of Loun, 153
Bene[vs] of Weitmil, 150
Berlin, 18
Berounka, 16, 23, 164, 171, 248, 249
Blanche Taque, 149
Blanche of Valois, 139, 249
Boievari, 16, 134
Boleslav I, 66, 67, 71, 78, 79, 80, 82, 83, 97, 240, 242
Boleslav II, 83, 84, 85, 89, 159
Boleslav III, 90
Boleslav the Brave, 83, 89, 90, 91
Boleslav, Towns Old and Young, 80, 152, 240
Bologna, 100, 168
Bo[vr]ivoj, 63-66, 161
Bo[vz]ena, 90, 91
Brahe, Tycho de, 100, 114, 206, 228
Breslau, 40, 83
B[vr]etislav I, 91, 92, 94, 97
B[vr]etislav II, 96, 97
Brezova, Lawrence of, 155
Britons, 23, 241
Brno, 18
Brown, Field-Marshal, Count, 241
Brusnice, 57
Brunswick, 22
Bruex, 109
Buiarnum, 112
Bulgars, 119
Burgundy, 151
Burma, 24, 25
Byzantium, 24
Cantacuzene, 24
Carinthia, John Henry of, 143
Carlsbad, 23, 151
Carlyle, 133, 134, 137
Caro, Abigdor, Rabbi, 114
Carolingian, 65
Casimir of Poland, 145
Celts, 16, 39, 40, 134
Ceylon, 25
Charlemagne, 18, 19, 26, 65, 73, 75, 76, 159, 210
Charles IV, Emperor, 121, 137-145, 149-160, 163, 164, 167, 168, 170, 172-175, 179, 180, 193, 195, 205, 217-220, 237, 239, 240, 244, 246, 249, 253
Charles V, Emperor, 226, 231
Charles the Simple, of France, 76
Chateau Thierry, 22
Cheb, 16, 23, 26, 98, 164, 239
Chlodovech, King of the Franks, 163
Clarissa, Order of, 109
Clement VI, Pope, 142
Clerval, Massieu de, 27
Cluny, 96, 99, 100
Conrad III, Emperor, 98
Conradin, 22, 108
Constance, 182, 185, 203
Constance of Hungary, 109
Constantine the Great, 15
Constantine Porphyrogenitus, 76
Constantinople, 15, 24, 76, 99, 218
Cornwall, Richard of, 109, 118, 119, 150
Cosmas of Prague, 25-27, 54, 57, 63
Cranach, Lucas, 154
Crawford, Marion, 180
Crecy, 136, 140, 144, 149, 150
Czechus, 53, 64
Dacio, 99
Dagobert, 26
Dalibor, Daliborka, 121, 122, 123
Dalimil, 91
Danes, 73, 74
Danube, 16, 40, 53, 210
David, 15
Dee, Dr. John, 228, 249
Dienzenhofer, 159, 222
Dragomira, 66, 72, 77
Dresden, 20
Dubravka, 83, 90
Duerer, 102
Dvo[vr]ak, 211
Edinburgh, 200
Edward, Black Prince, 136, 145
Edward III of England, 135, 145, 150
Edward VII of England, 23
Eger, _see_ Cheb
Eggenburg, 21
Elbe, 18, 20, 80, 245
Emanuel, Emperor, 99
Emaus, 78, 92, 94, 140, 141, 142, 173
England, 73, 100, 109, 117, 118, 140, 150, 181, 195, 204, 218
Ernest of Pardubic, Bishop, 144, 167
Falckenstein, Zavis of, 124
Faust, Dr., 208
Felix III, Pope, 161
Ferdinand, Archduke, 45, 225, 226
Ferdinand I, Emperor, 154
Ferdinand II, Emperor, 240
Ferdinand III, Emperor, 142, 156, 237, 239
Fidlovatchka, 46, 47, 242
Fischer, Peter, 154
Flemings, 39
France, 39, 136, 150, 151, 220
Francis I of France, 225
Franconia, 22
Franks, 18, 26, 134
Frederick Barbarossa, 23, 99, 107, 110, 117
Frederick, Count Palatine, 154, 156, 187, 188, 230, 231
Frederick, Duke of Austria, 118
Frederick the Fair, of Austria, 143
Frederick the Great of Prussia, 52, 101, 156, 159, 241
Fuerstenberg, 60
Galileo, Galilei, 114
Gans, David, 114
Gauls, 39
Gebhard, Bishop, 185
George Podiebrad, 154-157, 186, 207, 209, 218, 221, 236, 239, 253
Germans, 58, 65, 95, 111, 198, 199, 200
Ghibelline, Waiblingen, 22
Gibraltar, 60
Gindeley, 232
Gnesen, 92, 125
Golden Bull, 157, 179
Gothic, 62, 93, 114, 127, 142, 158, 185, 207, 224
Gregory VII, Pope, 94
Gregory XII, Pope, 229
Gregory of Tours, 163
Guido, Cardinal, 98, 99
Guelf, Welf, 22
Habsburg, 21, 101, 114, 119-121, 124, 125, 131, 132, 134, 136, 154, 156, 175, 186, 187, 194, 199-210, 218, 221, 223, 225
Hajek, 100
Hamilton, Sir William and Lady, 102
Hanover, 134
Harrachove, 85
Henri IV of France, 194
Henry and Kunigunde, Saints, 158
Henry of Carinthia, 133, 135, 137
Henry of Luxemburg, 133
Henry the Fowler, 66, 76, 77, 84, 162
Henry II, German King, 90
Henry III, Emperor, 91
Henry IV, Emperor, 94
Henry VI, Emperor, 108
Hohenburg on Unstrutt, 94
Hohenstaufen, 108
Holstein, 74
Holy Cross, Chapel, 94
Hrade[vs]in, 58
Hrad[vs]any, 52, 56, 57, 59, 60, 61, 63, 72, 78, 84, 93, 94, 96, 110, 121, 131, 135, 144, 152, 154, 159, 171, 194, 195, 217, 224, 226, 227, 229, 235, 246
Humbolt, Alexander von, 27
Hungarians, 74-76, 94, 121, 146
Hungary, 26, 109, 117, 125, 136, 144, 210, 218
Hus, John, 48, 182-185, 188, 202-204, 218, 232, 251
Hussites, 142, 154, 155, 159, 185, 198, 199, 218, 243, 249, 251
Ibrahim Ibn Jacub, 28, 84, 85, 112
Innocent III, Pope, 108
Innsbruck, 137
Irish Monks, 126, 210
Irrawaddy, 25
Isabella of England, 109
Italy, 136-138, 149, 151, 204, 230
Jacobelius, 236
Jagoilla, dynasty, 225
James I of England, 154, 188
Jaromir, 90
Je[vr]abek, Dr., 113
Jerusalem, 15
Jesuits, 38, 53, 182, 187, 188, 194, 195, 222, 236, 239
Jilove, 58
Joan of Arc, 181
John, King of Bohemia, 45, 131, 135-145, 150-153, 173, 205, 245
John, King of England, 109, 118
John, of Jenstein, 181
John VIII, Pope, 161
Jordan, 21, 251
Josefor, 113
Joseph, Emperor, 47
Judith, Queen, 93, 94, 127, 168, 180
Juggernaut, 34
Jungmann, 194, 213
Kalina, 213
Karlov Tyn, Karlstein, 66, 164, 248-250
Kazi, 55
Keppler, 114, 206, 228
Kiev, 83, 119
Kinsky, 44, 245, 246
Klee, Dr. John, 240
Kolin, 242
Koenigsberg, 118
Koenigsmark, 240
Kossovo, 201
Kostelec, 58
Kralove Hradec, Koeniggraetz, 135
Kressenbrunn, 119
K[vr]ivoklat, 249, 250
Krok, 55, 56
Krom[ve][vr]i[vz]e, Mili[vc] of, 174, 179, 206
Kubelik, 247
Kulm, 97
Kutna Hora, 124, 217, 218
Labe, _see_ Elbe
Ladislas Posthumus, 154, 218, 225
Latins, 39
Lechfeld, 82
Lehel, 82
Leipzig, 218
Lemberg, 83
Leo, Pope, 76
Leopold, Archduke of Austria, 194
Leopold, Duke of Austria, 117
Lepanto, 229
Letna, 44, 94, 171, 214
Levy Hradec, 64
Libu[vs]a, 53-57, 59-61, 93, 100, 110, 112, 121, 125, 239, 253
Lichtenberg, Ulrich of, 133
Liegnitz, 117
Lion of Bohemia, 62, 117
Lisbon, 15
Lithuanians, 136, 143, 144
Loew, Jehuda ben Bezalel, Rabbi, 115
Lombards, 53, 151
London, 24, 206
Lothair, Emperor, 97-98
Louis of Brandenburg, 143
Louis, Duke of Bavaria, 136
Louis, German King, 144, 145, 150
Louis VII, King of France, 99
Louis IX, King of France, 219
Ludmilla, 63, 66, 71, 77, 84, 109, 161, 237, 240
Luther, 226
Luetzow, Count, 26, 27, 79, 82, 119, 136, 144, 182, 220, 252
Luxemburg, 38, 41, 131-134, 137, 138, 140-143, 153
Maintz, Archbishop of, 84, 109, 144
Mandalay, 24, 58
Marcus Aurelius, 40, 189
Margaret Maultasche, 137, 143
Maria Theresia, 156, 241
Marienbad, 23
Marne, 39
Mastino della Scala, 137
Matthias, Emperor, 227, 230
Maximilian I, Emperor, 45, 154
Maximilian II, Emperor, 226
Mecklenburg, 134
Medigo de Candia, Solomon, 114
Melantrich, 207
Michael Angelo, 38
Mieceslav, 83
Milada, 84, 159, 161
Milan, 99, 100, 151
Milton, 194
Mnata, 63, 198, 199, 221
Montmartre, 52
Montparnasse, 52
Morava, 40
Moravia, 53, 63, 65, 74, 82, 83, 91, 98, 108, 117, 118, 133, 140, 143, 198, 199, 221
Mozart, 212, 224
Muehldorf, 136, 143
Nachod, 22, 242
Nancy, 22
Naples, 108
Narodni T[vr]ida, 90, 139
Nebozizek, 44, 246
Nelson, 102
Nepomuk, John, 181-184, 237
Neruda, John, 224
Norsemen, 39
Nuremberg, 22
Nusle, 46, 47
Ofen, Buda, 125
Oise, 39
Olomouc, Olmuetz, 62
Oppenheim, Rabbi, 114
Otto of Brandenburg, 124
Otto of Brunswick, 108
Ottokar I, P[vr]emysl, 107, 108, 110
Ottokar II, P[vr]emysl, 108, 109, 114, 118-121, 124-127, 132, 145, 239
Oxford, 168
Palacky, 27, 82, 133, 136, 220
Paleologue, 24
Palestrina, 126
Paris, 15, 21, 22, 24, 39, 40, 52, 76, 134, 139, 145, 164, 168, 248
Parler, John and Peter, 153, 207
Pergolesi, 43
Pet[vr]in, 57, 100, 103, 246
Philip of Suabia, 109
Pilsen, 16, 18
Pincio, 37
Pius II, Pope, 27
Poland, 83, 90-92, 125, 144-209, 219, 220, 224
Poles, 117
P[vr]emysl, 55-57, 62, 63, 66, 98, 107, 108, 111, 125, 133
Prussia, Duke of, 45
Prussians, 75, 84, 118, 134, 242
Rabindranath Thagore, 212
Racusani, 100
Radecky, 223
Ratisbon, 65, 107, 126
Rhone, 39
Richard II, King of England, 176, 185
Richtenthal, 157
Riegrovy, 44
[vR]ip, 54, 161
Rodin, 27, 37, 38
Romans, 40
Rome, 16, 24, 37, 38, 52, 74, 95, 109, 151, 157, 182, 199, 203, 209, 218, 219, 220, 236
Rostock, 18
Roumania, 219
Rudolph I, 120, 132
Rudolph II, 194, 227-230
Ruegen, 97, 162
Rugevit, 97
Rugians, 53
Russia, Russians, 112, 117, 119
St. Agnes, 109, 110
St. Anthony, 84, 157
St. Boniface, 210
St. Cletus, 126
Saints Cosmas and Damian, 79, 94, 140, 161
St. Cyriak, 126
St. George, 54, 83, 93, 96, 159, 227, 237
St. Hedwig, 109
St. Henry, 43
St. Hieronymus, 141
St. Longinus, 94, 160
St. Martin, 94, 213, 236
St. Methodius, 63, 65, 141, 161
St. Nicholas, 101, 223
St. Patrick, 126
St. Procopius, 60, 141
St. Remy, 149
St. Rufus, 124, 145
St. Sigismund, 163
St. Thomas, 101, 239, 240
St. Thomas a Becket, 204
St. Vitus, 72, 77, 144, 152, 156, 162, 163
Salonika, 161
Samo the Frank, 26, 239
Saone, 39
Saracens, 74-76
[vS]arka, 44, 247
Saville, Sir Thomas, 100
Saxons, 18, 19, 94, 134, 155, 240
Saxony, 47, 162, 199
Schiller, 230
Scots, 73, 126, 187
Seine, 39
Serbs, 119, 201
Shakespeare, 199
Sigismund, Emperor, 155, 185, 186, 217, 218
Silesia, 83, 117
[vS]lik, Count, 232
Slovakia, 83
Smetana, 57, 122, 171, 211
Smichov, 35, 93
Sob[ve]slav, 97
Somme, 150
Spira, Aaron, 115
Spytihnev, 65, 74, 153
Stadic, 55, 133
Star, the, 43
Staronova, [vS]kola, 113
Stephen I, King of Hungary, 91
Stephen III, King of Hungary, 99
St[ve]rboholy, 241
Stettin, 18, 40
Strahov, 100-103, 154, 246
Strasbourg, 22
Strelitz, 18
Stromovka, 44, 45, 242
Strzezislava, 63
Stuttgart, 22
Styria, 118
Susanna, 178
Svantovit, 97
Svatopluk of Moravia, 63, 65
Swedes, 100, 116, 117, 239, 240
Tabor, 21, 251
Tagus, 15
Tartars, 117
Teplitz, 97
Teta, 55
Teutons, 19, 20, 75, 200
Thebaw, 25
Thietmar, Bishop, 84
Thuringians, 53
Thurn, Count, 194
Tilly, 237
Tomek, 27
Turks, 218
Tyn Church, 94, 201, 205-207, 232, 236, 242
Tyrol, 143
Ulrich, P[vr]emysl, 90, 91
Urban VI, Pope, 185
Utraquists, 142, 195, 209
Vaclav, _see_ Wenceslaus
Vaclavske Nam[ve]sti, 72, 139, 160
Venetia, 157
Venice, 219
Verona, 137, 203
Vienna, 21, 126, 171, 236, 241
Vikings, 75, 76
Viollet-le-Duc, 27
Vladislav I, 249
Vladislav II, 99-101, 107, 158, 209, 220, 221-226
Vladivoj, 89
Vltava, 16, 18, 25, 44, 52, 57, 58, 84, 85, 93, 170, 171, 173, 180, 185-187, 244-246
Vratislav I, 65, 74, 84, 85
Vratislav II, 94-96
Vy[vs]ehrad, 26, 46, 52-57, 83, 93, 110, 121, 158, 168, 174
Waldhauser, Conrad, 174, 179, 206
Waldstein, Wallenstein, 237-239, 244, 253
Wallachians, 119
Watson, Dr. R. Seton, 134, 202
Wenceslaus I, King of Bohemia, 110, 111, 114, 121
Wenceslaus II, King of Bohemia, 117, 118, 121, 124, 125, 131-133, 141
Wenceslaus III, King of Bohemia, 62
Wenceslaus IV, King of Bohemia, 41, 72, 175-185, 195, 206, 208, 209, 244
Wenceslaus, Saint and Prince of Bohemia, 62, 66, 67, 71-80, 83, 84, 93, 109, 140, 152-154, 161-163, 213, 237, 238, 242
Weston, Elizabeth, 101, 239
Wettin, 20, 21
White Mountain, 127, 154, 156, 182, 198, 199, 230, 232, 235, 238, 246
Wilson, President U.S.A., 208
Wiprecht of Groitch, 95
Wittekind, 18
Wittelsbach, 136, 143
Wogastisburg, 26
Wun Thu, 25
Wuertemberg, 22
Wycliffe, 185, 198
Yonne, 39
Zamek, 44
Zbraslav, 58
Zderad, 96
Zion, 15
[vZ]i[vs]ka, 16, 155, 232, 251
Znoymo, Conrad of, 100