The second ancient Bohemian manuscript that was supposed to have been discovered at the beginning of the present century is that of Zelená Hora or Grüneberg, which is generally mentioned in connection with the Manuscript of Königinhof, and is printed together with it in most editions. It has now been proved that the Manuscript of Grüneberg is a falsification dating from the present century, and its genuineness is now no longer maintained by any scholars, though a natural patriotic feeling has rendered it painful to many to admit that this manuscript, which was attributed to the ninth century, and described as "the most ancient document in Bohemian, and indeed in all Slavonic literature," is nothing but a fraudulent imposture.
It is proverbially easy to be wise post eventum, that is, in this case, after the fact of a forgery is recognised, but it is difficult to repress very natural surprise that the mysterious manner in which the Manuscript of Grüneberg first became known did not create greater suspicion than was actually the case. The manuscript was (in 1818) sent anonymously by post to Francis Count Kolovrat-Liebsteinsky, then high burgrave (or governor) of Bohemia. That nobleman had shortly before published an appeal to the Bohemians in favour of the National or Bohemian Museum, of which he was one of the founders, and which had as principal object the preservation of the relics of Bohemian antiquity. It was not until many years later that John Kovár, steward on Count Colloredo's estate of Grüneberg, declared that he had found the manuscript in an outlying room of the castle of Grüneberg; he further stated that he had believed his master, Count Colloredo, to have been so thoroughly German in his feelings that he would have destroyed the manuscript had it been shown to him. It is difficult for others than Bohemians to realise the absurdity of such a statement. The strictly absolutist government of Austria during the first half of the present century inexorably suppressed all public demonstrations of national feeling; whether German or Slavonic. It was thus impossible that literary controversies should assume a political aspect at that period, though this has certainly happened in more recent times. It was equally absurd to suggest that Count Colloredo, a distinguished general during the Napoleonic wars, was likely to take any interest whatever in documents belonging to the early period of the Bohemian language—a language that then, and even far more recently, was almost unknown to the upper classes of Bohemian society.
The Manuscript of Grüneberg consists of two small fragments of parchment, one of which contains a few lines only, entitled "The Decree of Domestic Law." The second larger fragment is called the "Judgment of Libussa." It deals with the semi-mythical Bohemian princess who is the heroine of many ancient tales. It is curious to note that many very grave disquisitions on the early social condition and judicial institutions of the Slavonic race have been based on this apocryphal manuscript.
The "Question of the Manuscripts," at least with regard to that of Königinhof, is yet undecided. The vast literature on the subject which has gradually accumulated has incidentally thrown much light on many social and philological questions concerning ancient Bohemia and its language. The committee of the Bohemian Museum no doubt indirectly expressed its opinion when the Manuscript of Grüneberg was removed from public view, while that of Königinhof continued to be exhibited in the hall of manuscripts in the museum.
Several other Bohemian manuscripts purporting to be of very ancient origin also made their appearance at the beginning of the present century, and modern additions were made to an authentic ancient manuscript. These falsifications were soon discovered, and in some cases suspicion undoubtedly points to Hanka.
The earliest Bohemian writings, the authenticity of which is uncontested, have a distinctly Christian and religious character. One of the most ancient written documents in the Bohemian language is the hymn "Gospodi pomiluj ny" (Lord have mercy on us). The earliest version is written in a language resembling the Old Slavonic, but with many specially Bohemian locutions. The authorship of the hymn has been attributed to St. Cyrillus and to St. Methodius, or to their early disciples, but there is no evidence to prove this conjecture. The date of the hymn also cannot be fixed, but the chronicler, Comas of Prague, tells us that it was sung by the people at the installation of Bishop Dietmar of Prague in 973. The hymn is sung, in a modernised version, in the Bohemian churches up to the present day.
Another very ancient hymn that has great historical interest is that to St. Venceslas. The date of this hymn also cannot be ascertained, but there is evidence that the veneration for the murdered Prince Venceslas was already very great in the eleventh century, and the hymn is certainly very ancient. The existent version dates from the thirteenth century. The composition of the hymn, which is rhymeless, but has frequent assonances, also vouches for its antiquity. The three original strophes run thus:—
"Holy Venceslas—Duke of the Bohemian land—Our Prince—Pray for us to God—And the Holy Ghost—Kyrie Eleison.