The shadow of the hand of Habsburg hung darkly over the southern frontiers of Bohemia. Rudolph, the first Habsburg Emperor, began the famous tactics of his house, gaining power by matrimonial alliances. His son Rudolph was to marry Agnes, daughter of Ottokar II, whose son Wenceslaus II was to marry Gutta, the Emperor's daughter.
Wenceslaus II was a minor when he succeeded his father, and suffered considerably under his guardian and cousin Otto of Brandenburg, who, in pursuit of an all-German policy, even imprisoned the young King. Anarchy reigned in Bohemia when young Wenceslaus, at the age of twelve, nominally assumed the reins of government. The actual ruler of the country, however, was Zavis of Falckenstein, an able man but of doubtful morality; there was some unsavoury story concerning him and Ottokar's widow Kunhuta, whom Zavis eventually married. Then again the young King had Zavis done to death in treacherous manner, while the condition of Bohemia as an ordered State went from bad to worse. Strange to relate, the country flourished economically—became, indeed, very prosperous—the increase of wealth being largely due to the fact that workings on the silver mines at Kutna Hora had been resumed. Towards the end of the reign of this Wenceslaus, whose rule was mild, matters improved somewhat. Bohemia became a sort of city of refuge, and neighbouring States, Hungary and Poland, being in a worse state of anarchy than any others, invited King Wenceslaus to reign over them. Bohemia and Poland thus became united for a while under one ruler, Wenceslaus, who had himself crowned King of the latter country at Gnesen. Hungary was given in charge of the King's son Wenceslaus, who was crowned as King of that country and resided some time at Ofen. Wenceslaus had taken a Polish Princess to wife after the death of Gutta, and had thus reinforced his connection with a Slavonic neighbour, but Germanism was in the ascendant in Bohemia and the hand of Habsburg was stretched out over it. It was yet some centuries before the power of the Habsburg should become absolute in the lands of the Přemysl dynasty, but that family's light was nearing extinction. Whether good or bad, the rulers who sprang from the soil, from the peasant stock of Libuša's choosing, had been of the people and had on the whole served their people's interests. With Wenceslaus III murdered by an unknown assassin while on his way to Poland, the male line of the Přemysl dynasty died out. It continued in the indirect line by the marriage of Elizabeth, daughter of Wenceslaus II, with Rudolph, a grandson of the Habsburg who dealt the death-blow to Bohemia's native rulers.
Whether for good or evil, alien influence was working strongly in Bohemia, and notably in Prague. Ottokar II had encouraged it as part of his policy towards keeping in check his turbulent nobles and towards raising up a reliable middle class. His nobles aided towards his downfall by their treachery, and the middle class of Prague, though loyal to the Crown, was alive chiefly to its own interests. Perhaps that foreign influence was weaving its spell over the burghers of Prague, a spell to which the Slav is somewhat susceptible.
During the reign of the last Přemysl sovereigns Prague offered the spectacle of a rich and prosperous city, but its brightness was rather that of lights round the bier of some illustrious dead. Many foreigners found themselves attracted to the capital of Bohemia during this period, among them some ardent souls who were to be found doing good, according to their lights, in other cities of Europe, namely, Irish monks. It is of interest to us to note that these monks were frequently called Scots: you will find traces of them under that designation in the Schotten Kirche at Ratisbon and the Schotten Ring in Vienna. In Prague they were recognized as Irish, and their name lives on in the Hybernska Ulice in the Old Town. A church, with an altar dedicated to St. Patrick, arose at the corner of that street by the cross-roads, under the hands of Irish monks; a church now used for secular purposes, and built over the original edifice, stands there still. Amidst all the turmoil of this busy centre of the city you may still in those small hours of the morning when the traffic dies down for a while pick up an echo or two of the voices of those zealous Irishmen, but you must listen with all your soul, for those sounds are very elusive. Again, looking out over the city from my terrace I notice a copper dome just across the Charles Bridge, a dome flanked by high towers, and all bearing the unmistakable mark of Jesuit architecture. Yet that building, now used as part of the University, recalls memories of pious souls who came to Prague at the invitation of Přemysl Ottokar II. These were the Knights Crucifer, or the Cruciferous Knights as the guide-book prefers to call them. Their Order, the members of which always carried a cross in the left hand, was founded by St. Cletus; their work was to tend the sick and offer hospitality to pilgrims. The Order went down on the death of the founder and sought refuge in Palestine, where St. Cyriak discovered it, reformed it, and eventually brought it to Rome. This is said to have happened in the latter half of the fourth century, but I should think the date extremely uncertain; nor does it matter much. The Order received new rules in the twelfth century from Pope Alexander III, who, being on good terms with Ottakar II at the time, allowed the Order to be transplanted to Prague. I do not in the least know what the good knights did all those years between their installation at Prague in 1256 and the dissolution of their Order in 1783. Anyone who wants to know may no doubt find records of their doings, which were probably concerned with adding up quarterings and deciding questions of etiquette. Still their name, Knights Crucifex, lingers round one of the most picturesque corners of Prague, under the shadow of a stately Gothic tower which silently but insistently claims reverence above the baroque structures of a later non-Bohemian age. It is just at this spot, with its lingering memories of Queen Judith, of Přemysl Ottokar and a yet greater King of Bohemia of whom I shall tell you shortly, that you realize how Prague is that Golden City of the days of glorious Gothic and the Renaissance, and not of the baroque superimposed by the Jesuits after Bohemia's glory had departed on the gentle slopes of the White Mountain.
CHAPTER VII
Introduces a picturesque character, King John of Bohemia, Count of Luxemburg, whose final exploit and end should be familiarly known by every Englishman. This chapter tells of the many chivalrous adventures undertaken by this monarch, of how little good and how much harm he did to his country. There is also mention of an English King, of the Black Prince, and of many other more or less famous persons, who have gone to swell the gorgeous pageant of those who all down the ages have worked weal or woe to Bohemia and its capital, Prague. Of John Henry of Carinthia and his interesting spouse, Margaret Maultasche, of the usual German machinations against any peace or contentment in Bohemia, of Popes and anti-Popes, you will hear in this chapter; and finally you will make the acquaintance of one of Bohemia's greatest rulers, Charles, first Bohemian King and fourth Roman Emperor of that name. You may gain some idea of the difficulties Charles had to overcome, and will begin to realize what he, the great founder, did for his country and its capital.
