Prague.
Bohemia, though by no means so fertile, or so fine a country as Saxony,
does not deserve the bad character which some travellers have given it.
I thought many places very beautiful, and varied with the most agreeable
rural objects.
Prague, the capital of Bohemia, stands in a hollow, surrounded on
all sides with hills. Those nearest the town, and which command it,
are comprehended within the fortifications. It is a very large town,
retaining some marks of former splendor, but many more evident symptoms
of present decay—Symptoms which naturally attend those places which once
have been the residence of royalty, and are so no more.
All the houses, with any appearance of magnificence, are old, and it is
not probable, that any new ones will be built in that style: for the
Bohemian nobility, who are in circumstances to bear such an expence, live
at Vienna, and the trade and manufactures of this town are not sufficient
to enable any of the mercantile people to build fine houses.
In whatever degree this city may have dwindled in wealth and
magnificence, the piety of the inhabitants certainly flourishes as
much as ever. I do not recollect to have seen so many glaring marks of
devotion in any place. The corners of the streets, bridges, and public
buildings, are all ornamented with crucifixes, images of the Virgin
of all sizes and complexions, and statues of Saints of every country,
condition, age, and sex. People are to be seen on their knees before
these statues in every part of this city, but particularly on the
large bridge over the Moldaw, where there is the greatest concourse of
passengers. This bridge is so profusely adorned with the statues of
Saints, that crossing over it, you have a row of them on each side, like
two ranks of musketeers.
Travellers, especially such as arrive directly from Berlin, must be
astonished at the people’s devotion in this city, in a particular manner
at the vehemence with which it is expressed by those who exhibit before
the saints upon the bridge.
Not contented with kneeling, I saw some prostrate themselves on their
faces, kissing the earth; and others, who offered their petitions to
these saints with such earnestness and fervour, that, if their hearts had
not been of stone, they must have paid more attention to the petitioners
than they seemed to do.
There is one saint who has more votaries than all the rest put
together—Saint Nepomuc, I think they call him:—As my acquaintance with
saints is not extensive, I never heard of him till I came hither, but his
reputation is very great in this town. This saint, it seems, was ordered
by some cruel tyrant, to be thrown over a bridge, and his neck was broke
by the fall, and he is supposed to retain a particular affection for
bridges ever since; an effect something different from what was to have
been expected from the cause; however, the people here are persuaded,
that so it happened to Saint Nepomuc; and to put the fact beyond
controversy, he is at this moment the tutelar saint of bridges;—almost
all those in Bohemia are dedicated to him. He has also the reputation of
excelling every saint in heaven in the cure of barrenness in women.—How
his character for this was established, I did not enquire.
It is a melancholy reflection, that the wealthy are more careless about
religious duties than the indigent, and that poverty and piety are so
often linked together. I often observed, when we stopped at any town or
village, which had symptoms of great poverty, that the inhabitants seemed
also unusually devout.
It would appear, that hope is a more powerful sentiment in the human
breast than gratitude, since those who ought to feel the greatest
thankfulness to Heaven display the least.
We found an acquaintance at Prague when we least expected it; for as the
D—— of H—— and I stood talking in the streets, a priest, who belongs to a
seminary of learning in this town, overheard us; upon which he stopped,
and after looking at us very earnestly for some time, he at length came
up, and addressed us in these words:—I do assure you now, I am an
Irishman too. This easy kind of introduction soon produced a degree of
intimacy; I asked how he knew so readily that we were Irish? Am I not
after hearing you speak English, my dear? replied the honest priest, for
he really was a very honest obliging fellow, and the most useful and
entertaining Cicerone we could have had at Prague.
After having visited the royal apartments, they shewed us the window in
the secretary of state’s office, from whence three noblemen were thrown
in the year 1618. This was rather a violent mode of turning out the
people in power; but it is probable the party in opposition had tried
gentler means in vain.
As one great use of history is to furnish lessons and examples, by which
posterity in all ages may profit, I do not think it would be amiss to
remind your friends in administration of this adventure, that they may
move off quietly before their opponents take desperate measures. For it
has been observed, that the enemies of tottering statesmen are much more
active than their friends, who, when things come to the last push, are
apt to stand aloof,
Like people viewing, at a distance,
Three men thrown out of a casement,
Who never stir to their assistance,
But just afford them their amazement.
In case however a similar outrage should be threatened in England, it is
to be hoped that Apollo (as he was wont of old when any of his friends
were in danger) will interpose with a cloud, and save the Minister; for,
in the present scarcity of wit and good humour, it would be a thousand
pities to lose a man so much distinguished for both, at one desperate
throw.
We walked over the heights from which the Prussians attempted to carry
the town, immediately after the defeat of Prince Charles of Lorraine and
Count Brown. The bombardment of this town was a more defensible measure
than that of Dresden; for while the army within were under the dejection
natural after the loss of a battle, and unprepared for a siege, it might
be supposed, that the confusion and terror produced by the bombardment,
joined to the vast consumption of provisions by such a numerous garrison,
would induce the besieged to surrender. But although the King’s humanity
has not been called in question for his conduct here, I have heard many
military men censure him for want of prudence, particularly on account
of his desperate attempt at Kolin, when, leaving the half of his army
to continue the blockade of Prague, he marched with little more than
thirty thousand men, and attacked an army of double that number, strongly
situated, and commanded by one of the ablest generals of the age.
After all, it is more than probable, that the King had very good reasons
for his conduct. But as the attempt was unsuccessful, and as the sad
reverse of the Prussian affairs may be dated from that epoch, the voice
of censure has been very loud in blaming an action, which would have been
exalted to the skies had it been crowned with success. If Hannibal had by
any accident been defeated at Cannæ, it is very possible, that historians
would have found out many reasons why he should not have fought that
battle, and would have endeavoured to prove, that his former victories
had been gained by chance, and that he was a mere ignoramus in the art of
war.
Adieu, my good friend; I wish you good luck in all your undertakings,
that you may continue to be reckoned by the world, a man of prudence.