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 You will be pleased to hear that the edict of King John anent no drinks within two miles of the city has been withdrawn, so you may settle down in the Stromovka or the Kinsky Garden for the afternoon.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 château 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 Nebozízek. 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 Hradšany; the winding ways lead you up to the summit of the Petřin, 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 Petřin 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 Hradšany 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 Šarka. 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 Šarka, 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 Šarka 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 Vyšehrad, 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 Vyšehrad 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 Šarka 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 Týn. 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 mediæval 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.