ITH the accession of Wenceslaus, first Premysl prince of that name, Bohemia passes out of legend into ordered history; its rulers are henceforth properly labelled and dated. This is chiefly due to the spread of Christianity; priests and monks take up the tale of kindly Saga, and keep careful record of events. These chroniclers were not as a rule unbiassed; I cannot see how they could have been otherwise, for not only did they undertake the task of compiling history, they were constantly making propaganda for their own ideals against the paganism which still had a considerable hold on the sons of Czech. I doubt whether any historian can be absolutely unbiassed; a warm-blooded man—and you must be that if you would record the doings of your fellow-men—is bound to feel sympathy with or dislike for one or other actors in the far-off pageant of history. I frankly admit myself biassed in favour of Brother Boleslav the hearty heathen, and somewhat bored by that saintly lady Ludmilla. A night out with Boleslav would have been more amusing, if less edifying, than a country walk with pious Wenceslaus, who would be sure to waste a good deal of time at wayside shrines; a picnic arranged by Dragomira and in that lady's company, would have been at least a material improvement on any little outing with Ludmilla, who would surely have discovered some reason for fasting on that particular day. But then I can afford a bias; am only making observations from "a Terrace in Prague."

Monkish chroniclers sang the praises of Prince Wenceslaus. My spelling of this name is incorrect, but it is more familiar to English eyes than any other, as our Christmas carol "puts it with a 'we.'" I do not suggest that this St. Wenceslaus is identical with the "Good King Wenceslaus" we sing about—in fact, I have discovered another ruler of that name who fits the part much better; but of this more anon. The correct version of this saintly prince's name is Vaclav, pronounced Vatslav. It is as well to get a proper grip of this word, as the show street in the town is named VÁclavskÉ NÁmestÍ, which being interpreted meaneth Wenceslaus Place; the Germans call it Wenzel's Platz, but this designation is not popular at the moment. It is advisable to acquire the Czech version of the name, as the VÁclavskÉ NÁmestÍ is in the business and amusement quarter of the town. As to the pronunciation of VÁclavskÉ NÁmestÍ, it presents no particular difficulties, despite the profusion of accents (the Czechs are very liberal in this respect), they seem to make no noticeable difference with exception of the inverted circumflex, which makes "ye" out of plain "e." This is nothing to what the Czech language can do in the way of tongue-twisters.

The VÁclavskÉ NÁmestÍ rises gently towards another hill of Prague, Vinohrady. At the top of the rise, looking right down the broad avenue over the old town and beyond it to the HradŠany, is an equestrian statue of St. Wenceslaus. There are other likenesses of the Saint; a number of them adorn his chapel in the Cathedral of St. Vitus, and another statue stands near the castle entrance on the HradŠany, in the latter Wenceslaus is shown looking out over the city, his hand upraised in blessing, which is right and proper and quite what the city expects of him. The equestrian statue is the most recent portrait of the pious prince, and is really quite convincing. We know, or at least I am about to tell you, that Wenceslaus was a man of peace, he is therefore represented carrying a lance; the modern sense of propriety requires of a non-combatant that he should sit for his portrait armed. He need not introduce a bunch of bombs or a pot of poison gas into the composition, a sword will do. Wenceslaus brought his lance much as the up-to-date war-winner girds on a sword when he goes to be photographed. Swords may also be worn at weddings, at funerals, also at christenings I believe; anyway, on all filmable occasions.

As far as I can discover, St. Wenceslaus only had one fight in his life, and then he got killed.

Now that we have arrived at the first of authentically dated rulers over Bohemia, Wenceslaus I, 928-935, we may as well take a look round the Europe of that time. We find first of all that the peoples were capable of getting into just as bad a mess as they are in to-day, and that without the aid of any new diplomacy, League of Nations and International Conferences. England was, so to speak, nowhere in those days; Englishmen did not wander about the Continent making observations from terraces, did not even launch missions and commissions on harmless and unsuspecting countries, in order to impress the inhabitants thereof with our wealth and our good taste in getting rid of it. England was very busy with the Scots, Welsh and Danes, who were also causing a deal of trouble to the broken-up remnants of Charlemagne's Empire. The ideal of the Holy Roman Empire still lived and inspired a host of adventurous Counts of the Marches and other bearers of German culture to inroads into territory inhabited by Slavonic races. The idea seemed to be that as each Slavonic tribe, principality or kingdom adopted Christianity it should come under German domination and be held in trust for Mother Church by German princes as long as the Papacy conformed to their conception of right and wrong. The Papacy itself seems to have had no definite ideas of right and wrong at the time, or at least did not put them into practice; had, in fact, become thoroughly corrupt and ineffective for good. Christendom was in a parlous state, disunited and assailed by hosts of barbarians, Danes, Saracens, Hungarians. The latter had become especially dangerous to the Slavonic peoples. Before Arpad arrived at Pressburg (now called Bratislava, please) in 829, the territory inhabited by Slavonic tribes, mostly in principalities of varying size and importance, had extended with fluctuating frontiers, from Holstein south-eastward through Central Europe to the Adriatic and the Balkan range. Arpad drove a wedge into this Slavonic mass and broke it into two parts; Arpad's descendants still separate northern and southern Slavs. We have seen how the Empire of Moravia went down before the Magyars, and that the Bohemians, no longer able to count on support from that side, were forced to turn to Germany. The intrusion of the Magyars into Central Europe, by dividing the mass of Slavonic races, also weakened the influence of the Eastern Church among the Bohemians and forced those that were inclined towards Christianity into closer communion with Rome via Germanism. German priests were beginning to gain the ascendancy over those of the Eastern persuasion, they objected to services in the Vulgate, and as they knew no language but their own and only sufficient Latin for their clerical duties, their influence began to threaten the Slavonic genius of the Bohemians with extinction. This was undoubtedly their purpose, and it accounts for much of Bohemia's sufferings during the thousand years following the imposition of a German bishop on this country by the German King Arnulf to whom the immediate predecessors of St. Wenceslaus, Spytihnev and Vratislav had appealed for assistance.

Another social institution which was beginning to make its influence felt at the time under discussion was the feudal system. Hitherto, civilized Europe had depended for offensive and defensive operations on large slow-moving armies of foot-folk; these were ineffective against marauding barbarians, Vikings in their sharp-prowed ships, or the light cavalry of Hungarian or Saracen. Moreover, the governmental system organized by Charlemagne had fallen to pieces, and there was no central power to order the movements of a large army. Luckily for the cause of Christendom and western civilization such as it was, the subordinates of Charles's successors hit upon the right tactics to employ against the invaders. The nominal subordinates, Counts of the Marches, burgraves, barons, took a very free hand in those days of decentralized authority and bad lines of communication. Based on impregnable strongholds, they met the swiftly moving hosts of marauders with equally mobile troops of mailed horsemen, raised, trained and paid by themselves, and bound to their feudal lords by the ties of discipline out of which grew the tradition of military servitude. It was these feudal lords and their mailed horsemen who saved Western Europe; they took their own reward out of the lands they saved and out of the neighbours whom they insisted on saving, till they eventually became an unmitigated nuisance from which Bohemia suffered as much as any other country. But for the moment we are concerned with the times of St. Wenceslaus and the first half of the tenth century.

It is a pity that no one had thought of holding an International Conference in the early days of the tenth century; there were a great many things to discuss, and a Conference would have added to the gaiety of nations. There was the question of those Northern Slavonic tribes who had steadfastly refused the blessings of Christianity as purveyed by the Teuton; of course, no one could foresee that the Western Church's activities in those northern regions would eventually produce the modern Prussian. Then the Conference would have to decide whether or no Vikings, Hungarians and Saracens should be admitted to the comity of nations, and if not, how to start doing business with those people all the same. Then the place of the Conference would have to be decided; there was quite a fair choice of suitable localities. Paris was becoming popular, had already been discovered by people from over the seas—by the Vikings, who, in quest of souvenirs, on one occasion sacked the city, on another burnt it down. Aix-la-Chapelle had been popular for some centuries before the Vikings discovered the attractions of Paris; it had the waters to recommend it, and also memories of pious Charlemagne, on which members of the Conference might reflect when not engaged in feasting and providing the Press with fiction. Constantinople would also have been well suited to an International Conference in the tenth century. The Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus was rather a dull dog, but he kept a glittering court, and none but the most refined society is good enough for secretaries, bottlewashers and other numerous hangers-on of conferences. Kings and rulers would probably have attended the Conference in person, not being willing to afford the luxury of allowing a Prime Minister to neglect home affairs. It would have been a pretty gathering, Constantine Porphyrogenitus the bookworm probably as president, Æthelstan of England, Charles the Simple of France or as much as his neighbours allowed him, that doughty poacher Henry the Fowler, German King, and Pope Leo not on speaking terms with him, St. Wenceslaus of Bohemia trying to make peace with Henry, and a make-weight of German counts and churchmen, possibly representatives of Vikings, Hungarians and Saracens. The proceedings would have been marked by a "certain liveliness," as we used to say at the front when the fur began to fly. The Conference would have differed from those of the present day, by leading to a definite result if only in the form of a handsome row of corpses; Counts of the Marches, Vikings and others would have attended to that. It would have been interesting to note how monkish reporters would clothe, or rather veil, their account of proceedings in suitable language.

On the accession of Wenceslaus I the relations between his house and the German King were strained. This, we have seen, was due to Dragomira's anti-German foreign policy. Wenceslaus, however, as we know, had occasion to send his mother into exile; she cannot have gone very far, as according to popular belief the earth swallowed her up before she had had time to get clear of the Castle Hill. Later generations put up a chapel over the spot where Dragomira vanished; I consider this conduct lacking in tact.

Anyway, Wenceslaus had to face a guileful, determined and quite unscrupulous adversary, who had even called at Prague with an army; so, being a man of peace, he came to terms with King Henry for a slight consideration, namely, an annual tribute of six hundred silver marks and one hundred and twenty head of cattle. This warded off trouble from the west, but there remained the danger of barbarian invasion from the east and there was every reason for erecting strongholds in Bohemia as in other countries of Europe. I have found no trace of any such work by Wenceslaus. He surely must have done something towards strengthening the HradŠany, Hrad S. Vaclav or something like that, as it seems to have been called at the time. Wenceslaus had built a chapel here in which to house the relic of St. Vitus; I cannot imagine him leaving such a treasure quite unprotected. This precious relic, namely, the arm of St. Vitus, had been presented to Wenceslaus by King Henry which was handsome of him, as he only got a trifling annual contribution of money and cattle out of Bohemia, whereas that country was started off with something of sufficient value to account for that noble fane the Cathedral of St. Vitus. Bohemia did very well in the way of saints and sacred relics; some of her kings were enthusiastic collectors, and we remember that Christianity among the Czechs started with a royal martyr, the saintly Ludmilla, who was shortly to be joined by another, as you will be told later on in this chapter.

We are still trying to find out what Wenceslaus did for his capital and country besides collecting odds and ends of saints and building a chapel here and there, and regretfully state that little record of anything but his piety is handed down to us. Piety, it seems, was no more compatible with statecraft in the early days of Christendom than it is to-day, and as Wenceslaus took the pious line, he gave way too much to the German menace, thus laying up a store of trouble for his successors and the sons of Czech which lasted well up to the present and does not appear to be exhausted yet. In the meantime Wenceslaus, evidently well pleased with himself, continued to set his people a godly ensample. I should like to know whether they appreciated him to the same extent as did some members of his family, Boleslav for instance, who helped Wenceslaus to a crown of celestial glory by the simple process of hitting him over the head. I am rather inclined to think that the piety of Wenceslaus interfered with some of the innocent amusements of his people, among whom paganism was not quite dead yet, as subsequent events show. There was an interesting burial ground lying on the route which Wenceslaus would follow when going from the HradŠany to VyŠehrad, which remained the seat of government for several generations of Premysls after the pious prince's demise.... This burial ground, a very extensive one, is now covered by the Church of Emaus and its monastic buildings; you can see those twin towers, dark ochre in colour and topped by characteristic steeple and pinnacles, rising from among fruit-trees and red-tiled roofs. Na Morani was the name of this burial ground, after Morana, the goddess of death. It was the correct thing in pagan society to make pilgrimages to this place in spring: a pleasant afternoon in a cemetery was a pastime as popular then as it appears to be to-day. The cachet of Na Morani had been rather spoilt by the erection of a little church some time in the ninth century, perhaps by Wenceslaus himself. Anyway, the pious prince found this church a convenient half-way house between VyŠehrad and HradŠany, and he was wont to put up a prayer or two here before going on to drop a tear on the HradŠany relics. The little church was dedicated to Cosmas (not the chronicler) and Damian, saints of the third and fourth centuries. It is not known why these gentlemen clubbed together to have a day to themselves, but this need not act as deterrent to anyone who wishes to observe their day. Wherever pilgrims visit, there you will find settlements growing up, beginning with booths and shanties of those who sell appropriate commodities, candles, wreaths and such-like. The traffic in these articles continues; it was only last Palm Sunday that I was offered a variety of wreaths to choose from, small wreaths of snowdrops and fir twigs, to be worn on the wrist, to be blessed by the priest and then to be left lying about the sitting-room until fit for the dustbin. I resisted all temptation to deck myself with snowdrops and fir twigs; their subdued tones do not match my aura.

It seems to me that Wenceslaus did nothing in particular for his people; he concentrated on his part as royal saint and martyr, and was already posing for the statues of himself and the frescoes depicting his good deeds, which later ages produced. There was little to show for all this prince's good intentions. Pious, indeed, was Wenceslaus; he spent a great part of the night in prayer when he should have been recuperating for strenuous work on the following day: there was plenty to do for a country threatened on the one hand by marauding Magyars, on the other by insidious German influence. "He was in the habit of himself cutting off the wheat and grapes that the priests required to prepare the holy wafers and the wine for the sacrament"—I quote Count LÜtzow, but his conception of political economy allowed him to pay a large tribute in exchange for German interference and the remains of a saint. He lavished money on the Church, whereas strongholds were required in defence of Christendom, and finally he adopted the tonsure. This struck home to the family and made Boleslav's cup of bitterness o'erflow; he plotted more persistently than ever against Wenceslaus. Another habit of the pious Prince was that of attending Church dedication festivals and their anniversaries, in every part of his dominion. The Church feast of Cosmas and Damian, much patronized by Wenceslaus at a little town called Boleslav, was due on September 28th. Wenceslaus was invited to attend this function by Brother Boleslav, who resided there. Boleslav, by this time very weary of his pious brother, sat up with a few friends of his own way of thinking, waylaid Wenceslaus, and killed him. This happened in 935, and the 28th of September is still kept sacred to the memory of St. Wenceslaus by those who feel inclined that way.

My sympathy with Boleslav does not blind me to the fact that he did wrong in killing his brother. I am glad to report that Boleslav showed signs of contrition. The town of Boleslav henceforth became distasteful to him, so he quitted it and raised another of the same name. Stara (Old) Boleslav, where Wenceslaus gained his degree of martyrdom, is a sedate little town near the banks of the Labe (known as Elbe in Germany) dozing among orchards and lush meadows and o'ershadowed by tall elm-trees. It is by no means a suitable setting for a sensational fratricide; I have been to see the place for myself and consider that the Wenceslaus-Boleslav, drama requires a different scenario. The newer town, Young Boleslav (Jung Bunzlau in German) is much better suited to the film; it stands up high on a rock and looks a likely habitation for an expert in assassination such as was Boleslav, brother of Wenceslaus.

Despite all Boleslav's efforts, popular opinion has it that Wenceslaus is not dead, but fast asleep inside a mountain, making up for nights spent in prayer no doubt. I do not believe this report.

Boleslav succeeded Wenceslaus as first Bohemian Prince of that name. His was a long and eventful reign, from 936 to 967, long at least for those days when rulers were apt to be removed abruptly. None knew this better than Boleslav himself. Monkish chroniclers have little good to say of Boleslav I—allegedly on account of that little affair at Stara Boleslav and of Boleslav's persistent paganism; actually, I imagine, on account of the anti-German attitude he adopted at the outset of his reign. Boleslav ruled with a firm hand; he subdued a number of Bohemian nobles who had allied themselves with the national enemy the German, before he resumed the conflict with Henry the Fowler which his mother had started. Henry, no doubt, was quite ready to quarrel, using the murder of his ally as a pretext, but he died before he had had time to settle down in the saddle, and left his son Otto to carry on. Now Otto, first German Emperor of that name, was a strong man, and is called Great on account of his success in reviving the Holy Roman Empire. Boleslav was a strong man too: Palacky, the famous Bohemian historian, describes him as "one of the most powerful monarchs that ever occupied the Bohemian throne." He succeeded in defending his country from the armies that Otto launched against it, and even the invasion of 950, led by the Emperor himself, brought no decisive victory for the Germans. Boleslav seems to have considered it futile to continue quarrelling with his western neighbour, especially as the usual trouble continued in the east, in which direction the Prince proposed to extend his dominions. By 955 we find Germans and Bohemians allied against the Magyars, who had acquired a habit of ravaging Western Europe once a year. They met their match on the Lechfeld, near Augsburg, and were utterly defeated in one of the most sanguinary and decisive battles fought during the Middle Ages. According to Count LÜtzow it appears that a Bohemian contingent of a thousand men formed part of the victorious army. Boleslav himself, with the greater part of his troops, remained to guard the frontiers of his country. The defeated Magyars suffered another defeat at the hands of Boleslav on their retreat through Bohemia, and their leader, Lehel, was taken prisoner. With peace and friendliness on his western front and his eastern enemy thoroughly beaten, Boleslav was in a position to carry out his ambitious plans. He freed Moravia from the Magyars and united it to Bohemia, and he is said to have conquered a considerable part of the country between the Carpathian Mountains and the Danube; probably Slovakia of to-day. By his conquests Boleslav became a near neighbour of Poland and managed to come to a good understanding with Duke Mieceslav I, ruler of that country, by giving that prince his daughter Dubravka in marriage, which would no doubt be considered a friendly act. Dubravka succeeded in converting her husband and his yet heathen people to Christianity. Mieceslav must have taken to it very strongly, for between them he and Dubravka produced a pious son and heir who was to become known as Boleslav the Brave.

Boleslav II of Bohemia, called "the Pious," enjoyed an even longer reign than his father did, from 967 to 999, which is one of those easy dates to remember. Monkish chroniclers seem to have ascribed a good deal of the work done by Boleslav I to his son, probably on account of the former's lack of piety in his early days and the latter's exuberance in that line. Certain it is that Boleslav II was ruler over larger dominions than had ever been held by any Prince or King of Bohemia. Besides Bohemia itself the power of Boleslav II extended over Moravia, present-day Slovakia, a great part of Silesia, including Breslau, districts of Poland nearly up to the town of Lemberg, with a frontier touching that of the Russian rulers of Kiev. The Bohemian nobles who had troubled his father were entirely suppressed by Boleslav II, who appointed burgraves called "zupans," over the various districts into which his territories were divided, and the central authority became absolute.

It is not certain whether VyŠehrad was still the actual seat of government or whether the HradŠany had taken its place. Certain it is that the HradŠany had grown in importance chiefly in the religious life of the nation. The foundations laid by St. Wenceslaus were extended. It appears that the Church of St. George on the HradŠany dates back to this early period; you can see its two rather stunted white steeples standing out over the complex of buildings near the eastern point of the Castle Hill before it dips down towards the Vltava. The earliest church on this point is attributed to Vratislav, uncle of St. Wenceslaus, but this sounds rather doubtful. Boleslav II, however, is known to have founded a convent here, probably the oldest in Bohemia, and he installed his sister Milada as first abbess. St. Ludmilla was also buried here, so the HradŠany was increasing in sanctity. Boleslav II is also responsible for providing Prague with her first bishop. We have seen that Henry the Fowler had incorporated Bohemia into the bishopric of Ratisbon; this was before that country could be considered as Christian, with right, as we have noticed the lapse after the demise of St. Wenceslaus. Boleslav II, however, was in a position to point to a much improved state of affairs, and so Otto I consented to the formation of a separate bishopric of Prague. The Pope consented likewise, under the express condition that the connection with the old Moravian archbishopric should be broken, and that the Latin liturgy only should be used. The German connection was further strengthened by placing Bohemia under the supremacy of the Archbishop of Maintz; Thietmar, a German, became the first Bishop of Prague. This worthy was succeeded after a few years by a native of Bohemia, Adalbert, who finally established Christianity in the country. He had a hard task, as many heathen customs, such as polygamy, were difficult to extirpate; there are even in this day very few churches dedicated to St. Anthony, a saint who does not seem to interest or convince the Bohemians. Adalbert carried his ideals farther afield, to the country of the heathen Prussians, who killed him for trespassing on ground dedicated to one of their deities. Adalbert became the third saint and martyr of Bohemian origin, and was adopted by the Poles as patron saint.

Though there are no buildings other than those on the HradŠany mentioned by the chroniclers, we may assume that a township was growing up by the river at the feet of the Castle Hill. We have the testimony of Ibrahim Ibn Jacub, who speaks of Prague as "a great commercial town of stone-built houses." Ibrahim's visit must have taken place in the reign of Boleslav II. I conclude that he was talking of a town on the left bank of the Vltava, because others of his race who came here in that Prince's day are said to have been allowed to found a school in the Mala Strana quarter. Some fifty years later yet more Jews came to Prague bringing presents for the ruler, Prince Vratislav, and Bishop Gebhard. They were allowed to build twelve little houses on the outskirts of the town, which would be somewhere about the Harrachove. These Jews promised to be of good behaviour and to pay double taxes, but in three months their numbers had increased to seven hundred, so half of them were ordered to go out over the river to where the old town now stands; another Jewish settlement was established there. The advent of these visitors is proof positive that Prague was becoming not only habitable but also a place of importance.