The Bohemians preserved their independence till 1620. That year they
rebelled against the king for political and religious reasons and were
defeated at the battle of White Hill (Bílá Hora) near Prague. From the
effects of this disastrous event the nation has never recovered, for
even now, after the lapse of 295 years, the scars received at Bílá Hora
are not wholly healed.
Ferdinand II. punished the rebels with traditional Austrian fury.
On June 21, 1621, he caused the execution at Prague of twenty-seven
leaders of the revolution--all men belonging to the most noted families
in the country. A number of them were condemned to humiliating physical
punishment and the estates of all were confiscated. The first to lay
his head on the block of the executioner was Count Joachim Andrew Šlik
(Schlick). During the interregnum Šlik had been a Director; besides,
he had served as Chief Justice and Governor of Upper Lusatia. The
next victim was Václav Budovec of Budova, “a man of splendid talents
and illustrious learning, distinguished as a writer, widely known as
a traveler, and an ornament to his country.” Pelcl said of Budova
that he belonged “to that old cast of serious, thoughtful, inflexible
Bohemians, by which the nation was characterized in the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries.” The third to suffer was Christopher Harant of
Polžic, “a learned man, distinguished writer, and noted traveler.” The
next on the death list was Caspar Kaplíř of Sulevic, a venerable man
of eighty-six. The fifth was Prokop Dvořecký of Olbramovic, a scion
of an old family. The sixth was Baron Frederick Bílý, “an upright and
learned man, one of the Directors at the time of the interregnum.”
The seventh, Henry Otto of Los, who, under Frederick, was connected
with the exchequer. Then followed successively Dionys Černín, William
Konechlumský, aged seventy years, Bohuslav of Michalovic, “a man of
splendid talents who deserved well of his country,” Valentine Kochan
of Prachov, a learned master of arts; Tobias Štefek of Koloděj, a
citizen of Prague and a Director of the Revolution; John Jesenský of
Jesen (Jessenius), a scholar, scientist, and orator, “whose writings
shed lustre on the university;” Christopher Kober, a noted citizen
of Prague; Burgomasters John Šultys of Kutná Hora and Maximilian
Hošťálek of Žatec (Saaz), (the two latter having been Directors during
the interregnum), John Kutnaur, a Councilor of Prague, Kutnaur’s
father-in-law Simon Sušický, Nathaniel Vodňanský of Uračov, Václav
Jizbický. The last to undergo death were Henry Kozel, Andrew Kocour
of Otín, George Řečický, Michael Wittman, Simon Vokáč of Chyš and
Špicberk, Leander Rüppel, and George Hauenschild. On the tower of the
ancient Charles Bridge, which connects the Old Town with the Small
Town in Prague, twelve heads of the rebels were set up in small wire
cages, six on each side of the tower, to awe the populace. There these
gruesome evidences of Hapsburg hatred remained for years. On the same
tower were exposed to public view the hands of Šlik and Michalovic and
the tongue of Jesenský. Rüppel’s head and hand were nailed on the wall
of the Town House.
So ended the “Bloody Day at Prague”--a day that Bohemians may have
forgiven, but which none have forgotten. What now followed is
probably without parallel in the history of European nations. Edmund
de Schweinitz, in commenting on the consequences of the Bohemian
Revolution, says that “in the history of Christendom there were few
events more mournful. From the pinnacle of prosperity Bohemia and
Moravia were plunged into the depths of adversity.”
The month the executions took place, the emperor, or rather the
so-called Liechtenstein’s Commission on Confiscations which had been
appointed by the emperor, pronounced forfeiture on the estates of 658
landowners of the nobility out of a total of 728, whose names were on
the list of accused. Thomas Bílek, a writer of unimpeachable authority,
has published a voluminous book on these confiscations from which it
would appear that the Liechtenstein Commission had confiscated fully
two-thirds of all the lands in Bohemia. Some of the choicest estates
taken away from the rebels the emperor retained for the Hapsburg
family. A goodly portion of the forfeited lands was given to the
church, of which the emperor was a devout member. “Take, fathers,
take,” he used to say to the ecclesiastics when endowing this or that
foundation with gifts of confiscated estates. “It is not always that
you will have a Ferdinand.” Still other lands reverted to the state.
What was left the emperor magnanimously distributed among those of his
favorites whose military prowess in the rebellion entitled them to some
special recognition or compensation. Albrecht, Count of Wallenstein
or Waldstein, at one time a Generalissimo of Ferdinand’s army against
Gustavus Adolphus, was able to “purchase” sixty confiscated estates of
an enormous value.
Struve has remarked that of all the nobles in the world those in the
Hapsburg Monarchy had probably the least reason to boast of their
ancestry. This is especially true of the nobility whose advent into
Bohemia antedates the first half of the seventeenth century. From
the events here related began the rise in Bohemia of such families
as Buquoy, Clary de Riva, Aldringen, Trautmansdorff, Metternich,
Marradas, Verduga, Colloredo, Piccolomini, Wallis, Gallas, Millesimo,
Liechtenstein, Goltz, Villani, Defours, Huerta, Vasques--names
indicating Spanish, Italian, German, and Walloon birth. These aliens,
enriched by property taken away from Bohemian nobility, surrounded
themselves with foreign officials, who treated the natives with the
scorn and insolence of victors. Their châteaux formed in many cases the
nucleus of German settlements which later threatened to overwhelm the
nation. Some of these “islands,” or settlements, which were situated
farther inland, were in time absorbed by the native population. But not
so with the colonies on the border. These latter not only preserved
the lingual and national characteristics of the owners, but they even
contrived to Germanize the home element that came into contact with
them. It was during this calamitous period that the Germans made the
greatest inroads upon Bohemian national territory.
Prior to the Thirty Years’ War Bohemia was overwhelmingly
Protestant,[5] but Ferdinand determined that in his empire there should
be “unity of faith and tongue.” A unity of faith he and his successors
have achieved, but it has been denied to the Hapsburgs--much as they
have tried to achieve it--the unity of language.
In 1620 Jesuit fathers were invited to come to Bohemia and to take
charge of the once renowned University of Prague and of the provincial
schools. “The Jesuits buried the spirit of the Bohemian nation for
centuries.” This is the severe judgment of no less a person than V. V.
Tomek, the noted historian. Accompanied by Liechtenstein’s dragoons
these ecclesiastics went from town to town, searched libraries, carried
off books written in Bohemian and burned them whether they were
“tainted” or not. Sometimes the books were privately thrown in the
flames in the houses where they had been seized; at other times they
were brought to the market-place or to the public gallows and there
publicly burned. The Jesuits were indefatigable in their search for
heretical literature, ransacking houses from cellar to garret, opening
every closet and chest, prying into the very dog kennels and pig-sties.
People hid their most precious books from the ferreting eyes of the
inquisitioners in baking ovens, cellars, and caves. There are cases on
record of rare Bohemian volumes having been saved from destruction by
being hidden under manure piles.
One zealot, Koniáš by name, boasted that he had burned or otherwise
mutilated 60,000 Bohemian volumes. According to him “all Bohemian
books printed between the years 1414 and 1620, treating of religious
subjects, were generally dangerous and suspicious.” From their seat in
the Clementinum (Prague University) they presided over the intellectual
life of the country; that is to say, they wholly suppressed it.
In order to more systematically supervise the work, a censor was
appointed by them for each of the three lands,--Bohemia, Moravia,
and Silesia,--and it was the duty of this censor to see to it that
no books were published or reprinted that did not meet the approval
of the general of the order. Easy was the labor of the censor, for
in Moravia, for instance, only one printer was fortunate enough to
secure a license. In Bohemia they set up the so-called University
Printing Office. Besides this only five or six other establishments
were licensed to print books. In a few decades these zealots destroyed
Bohemian literature altogether. The almanacs, tracts, hymnals, and
prayer books that issued from their printing presses could not be
dignified by the term literature. Count Lützow, in his “History of
Bohemian Literature,” frankly admits that, with few exceptions, all
the men who, during the last years of Bohemian independence, were most
prominent in literature and politics belonged to the Bohemian Church.
Living in exile in foreign countries, there was no one left at home to
resume their tasks.
Ferdinand began his anti-reformation crusade in earnest in 1621. In
December of that year he issued a patent by virtue of which about one
thousand teachers and ministers of the gospel of the Bohemian Church
were forced to leave the country. The Lutherans did not come under
this ban, inasmuch as the emperor was anxious to please his ally,
the Elector of Saxony, who pleaded clemency for his co-religionists.
In 1624 seven patents were promulgated. Some of these were directed
against the laity, which, till then, had escaped the wrath of the
conqueror. It ordered the expulsion from trade guilds of all those who
could not agree with the emperor in matters of faith. Discriminatory
measures against nonconformist merchants and traders went into effect,
which quickly resulted in their ruin. Another patent, bearing date July
31, 1627, was more severe than those preceding it. By it dissenters of
both sexes and irrespective of rank were ordered to renounce their
faith within six months, or failing to do so, leave the country. The
operation of this patent extended to Moravia, but not to Silesia and
Lusatia. The two latter-named provinces had been spared because of a
promise given by the emperor to the Elector of Saxony.
So severely did the country suffer by forced expatriation, as a result
of these edicts, that Ferdinand saw himself compelled to issue other
patents to check it. In the hope of conciliating he remitted fines in
certain cases, discontinued suits for treason, and made restitution of
confiscated property. In some cases he extended the time within which
heretics could become reconciled with the church, but the clemency was
extended too late, for while some individuals yielded to the formidable
pressure, the great mass of nonconformists, comprising the very flower
of the nation, were determined rather to lose their property and leave
the fatherland than to renounce that which they held most sacred.
Count Slavata, who himself took no inconsiderable part in this terrible
drama of anti-reformation, and who, owing to his religious convictions,
cannot be accused of partiality, is authority for the statement that
about 36,000 families, including 185 houses of nobility (some of these
houses numbered as many as 50 persons each), statesmen, distinguished
authors, professors, preachers,--spurning to accept the emperor’s
terms, went into exile.
In 1627 Ferdinand promulgated what he designated the “Amended
Statute.” The “amendment” really consisted in the abolishment of those
ancient rights and liberties of the land which were incompatible with
autocratic powers.
Under the “Amended Statute” the kingdom, heretofore free to elect its
sovereign, was declared to be an hereditary possession, both in the
male and female line, of the Hapsburg family. The three estates--lords,
knights, and the cities--which till then constituted the legislative
branch of the government, were augmented by a fourth unit, the clergy.
The fourth estate was destined to exercise, as subsequent events
have shown, the greatest influence on the affairs of the government.
The Diet at Prague was divested practically of all its power and
initiative; from now on its sole function was to levy and collect
taxes. And because the king had invited to the country so many alien
nobles (or commoners later ennobled) who were ignorant of the language
of the land, the amended statute provided that henceforth the German
language should enjoy equal rights with the Bohemian. A disastrous blow
to the unity of the Bohemian Crown was further dealt by the annulment
of the right of the estates in Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia to meet at
a General Assembly for the purpose of deliberating on matters common to
the crown. By this clever stroke the emperor tore asunder the ancient
ties of the kingdom. He rightly reasoned that by isolating each of the
integral parts of the kingdom he could easier hope to hold in leash the
whole of it.
In time the administration of the Bohemian Crown was entrusted to an
executive who received the title of Chancellor, and when the kings no
longer resided in Prague, having taken up a permanent abode in Vienna,
the Chancellory was removed thither, ostensibly on the ground that
the Chancellor was required to be near the person of the sovereign.
In reality, however, the transfer was a part of a preconceived plan
to make Vienna the centre of the empire, from which the Hapsburg
“provinces” were to be ruled. Under one pretext or another the
Chancellory was being gradually shorn of its powers, until Maria
Theresa (1740-1780) abolished it altogether. Henceforth even purely
local matters were administered from Vienna direct, and the officials
began to style the once proud kingdom a “province of Austria.”
During the Thirty Years’ War thousands of villages were destroyed by
fire and many of them have never been rebuilt. The population, which
before the war was estimated at 3,000,000, was reduced by fire, sword,
and pestilence to about 800,000. Fields lay fallow for years for lack
of workers to cultivate them. Of the 151,000 farms before the war
hardly 50,000 remained. Native nobility was reduced to beggary by the
confiscation of their estates, and the peasantry that survived was
reduced by alien lords to a degrading condition of serfdom. Between
1621 and 1630 400 Prague citizens went into exile. The Nové Město (one
of the Prague quarters) alone had at one time 500 vacant houses. The
town of Žatec, which in 1618 had 460 citizens, counted ten years later
205 of them. In Kutná Hora, of a total of 600 houses, 200 remained
without owners or tenants. The population of the city of Olomouc in
Moravia, by 1640, was reduced from 30,000 to 1,670. Wherever the armies
marched nothing was seen but waste and ruins. According to notes taken
by Swedish soldiers, 138 cities and 2,171 villages were totally ravaged
by fire. The textile industry, which had been the source of the wealth
of the country, was almost wholly destroyed by the war.
The defeat at White Mountain could not have been productive of such
disastrous consequences had it not been for the fact that the nobles
were the standard-bearers of Bohemian nationalism and the sole
representatives of the nation’s culture and traditions. The peasantry
in those days and for a long time afterward was yet helplessly
dependent on the aristocracy.
Bohemian Huguenots were scattered over every land in Central Europe,
most of them seeking refuge in nearby Saxony, Silesia, Hungary, and
Poland. Many emigrated to more distant lands, such as Sweden, serving
in the army of Gustavus Adolphus, Russia, Holland, England. A few
of the more adventurous spirits wandered off with the English and
the Dutch to America. One of them, Augustine Herman, a noted figure
among the early Dutch in New Amsterdam, made an attempt to establish
a colony of compatriots on a grant of land that he had received from
Lord Baltimore and which he named in honor of his native land, Bohemia
Manor, a place famous in early Maryland history. Numerous exiles
settled in the first half of the seventeenth century in Virginia. In
the beginning the exiles hoped to be permitted to return home, but the
terms of the Peace of Westphalia (1648) made such a return definitely
impossible. They repeatedly called for help. Oliver Cromwell, it
is said, had a project under consideration whereby Bohemian exiles
were to be settled in Ireland. John Amos Comenius, the bishop of the
Bohemian Church, a distinguished educator, himself an exile living in
Holland, presented the history of his church to King Charles II. of
England in 1660, with a stirring account of its suffering.
Suspecting that the dissenters were yet unsuppressed, the government
caused other patents to be issued, one of which, published in 1650,
imposed severe penalties such as the billeting of troops, banishment
from the country, confiscation of property and, in extreme cases,
death. A patent dated April 9th of that year required that within six
weeks all parishes should instal conformist clergy or close. Under
Josef I. (1705-1711), and again under Charles VI. (1711-1740), the
work of anti-reformation was renewed with increased severity. Loyal
subjects were enjoined under pain of death from harboring or aiding
heretic teachers or ministers, the reading and smuggling into the
country or otherwise circulating Bohemian books on the prohibited list.
Other patents followed in 1721, 1722, 1723, 1724, 1725, 1726, with the
result that non-Catholics who still secretly clung to the forbidden
faith emigrated to Saxony and Prussia, where they sought the protection
of the rulers of those countries. The suffering of the unfortunates
was somewhat, though not wholly, relieved when the German princes,
assembled in the Diet at Regensburg in 1735, sent a strong appeal to
the Austrian Emperor to treat his subjects with more toleration. When
the Edict of Toleration was issued in 1781, permitting free worship,
there still remained in Bohemia about 100,000 Protestants.[6] Of the
refugees who fled to Germany in the first quarter of the eighteenth
century many found their way with the Herrnhuters, or Moravians,
as they are called in the United States, to Georgia, and others to
Pennsylvania, where they established, in 1741, the flourishing town
of Bethlehem, now the recognized centre of the Moravian Church in the
United States.[7]