Lectures on The Historians of Bohemia/Lecture 3

by František Lützow

III

THE year 1526 is a very important landmark in the history of Bohemia. It was in this year that Ferdinand of Habsburg, brother of Anne, widow of the late King Louis, was elected King of Bohemia. The election was secured with great difficulty, and by means that were far from being scrupulous. Simultaneously with the foundation of a new dynasty the almost extinct Romanist creed again began to gather strength. There is, of course, a close connexion between these two events, for even at that time the unwritten but almost unbroken alliance between the House of Habsburg and the Roman See had already long been in existence.

Though Ferdinand was, particularly at the beginning of his reign, somewhat tolerant and conciliatory toward his Bohemian subjects, it is certain that he always wished to be considered hereditary ruler and not elected King of Bohemia. These endeavours of the king to enlarge his power estranged the Bohemians, who have always valued their ancient constitution, and Ferdinand’s leaning to the Church of Rome caused great discontent.

This feeling of discontent culminated in the outbreak of 1546. Of this struggle we possess a careful and valuable account, written in Bohemian by Sixt of Ottersdorf. Sixt, born in 1500, took no inconsiderable part in the events which he has recorded. As early as in 1537 we find him mentioned as town clerk of the city of Prague, and he was chancellor of the city in the momentous year 1546. Sixt’s book, entitled Acts and record-book of those troubled years 1546 and 1547, deals with the conflict between Ferdinand I and the Bohemian Estates caused by the troubles that broke out in Germany in 1546. The German Lutherans had risen in arms against the Emperor Charles, and his brother Ferdinand requested the Bohemians to aid the imperial cause. The Bohemians—mostly members of the Reformed Church—refused this request, and even entered into negotiations with the German Protestants, whose leader Frederick, Elector of Saxony, was a neighbour of Bohemia. While the Bohemians were still undecided, the battle of Mühlberg was fought on April 27, 1547, and the power of the German Protestants was for a time completely broken. The Bohemians, who had done nothing to aid the Elector of Saxony, but much to irritate Ferdinand, now decided to send a deputation—of which Sixt was a member—to their king to convey to him their congratulations on the victory of the imperial arms. The envoys met the King of Bohemia in the camp before Wittenberg, which the imperial forces were then besieging. Sixt’s account of the voyage of the envoys through the devastated lands of Saxony is very interesting; very curious also is his account of the meeting of the Bohemians with King Ferdinand, whom they first saw at a distance ‘walking among the tents while saying his hours or paternosters.’

The king returned an evasive answer, and shortly afterwards marched into Bohemia. After a short stay at Litoměřice^[1] , he advanced on Prague and occupied the capital almost without resistance. If we consider the rough justice of those days, it may be said that the Bohemians were treated somewhat mercifully. Only four men—two knights and two townsmen—were decapitated. The executions took place at the gates of the Hradčany Palace on the day on which the Diet—henceforth known as the ‘bloody Diet’—met there. The nobles and knights indeed preserved most of their privileges, but the citizens suffered considerably. The autonomy of the towns was greatly limited, and royal officials to a great extent replaced those that the citizens had hitherto freely elected. Sixt himself was deprived of his office of chancellor of the city of Prague.

Sixt’s book, written very shortly after the events with which it deals, mirrors the despondency that overcame the Bohemian townsmen after the curtailment of their autonomy. A man gifted with great political insight, such as was Sixt, probably saw through the crafty policy of Ferdinand. The peasantry had lost its power since the establishment of serfdom. The citizens, who hitherto had mainly upheld the independence of the country, were now to lose a large part of their political weight. There remained the nobles and knights, among whom the influence of the Jesuits was already beginning to spread. Absolutism and Romanism seemed already to loom in the distance.

This despondency shows very clearly in Sixt’s Introduction, from which I shall quote a few words; he writes: ‘We have in these days lived to see in reality those things which by divine visions terrified and frightened our ancestors, who said “even should the Almighty God deign to prolong our lives, we do not desire it; neither do we wish to remain longer in this world”; and during the plague [which preceded the troubles of 1546] we heard little innocent children say to their parents, who wept over them: “You weep over us, but after a few years you will, in consequence of the troubles that will come over you, wish yourselves dead rather than alive!”’

Before dealing with the national movement, Sixt gives a detailed account of the meetings of the Bohemian Diets, at which he was himself present as one of the representatives of the city of Prague. He writes: ‘The public Diets, that were formerly a general meeting of the Estates, have already been reduced to this, that two or three men only meet—and, what is worse, the king, with his German and Italian councillors, examines all decisions and overrules them when he sees fit to do so, and he suppresses all that is displeasing to him; the Estates have thus no longer the power and liberty of deciding on anything that may be good and useful for the kingdom, and the disorder has become so great that for some years, indeed, almost since the beginning of his^[2] reign, we find no decree inscribed in the statute-book that was useful to the commonwealth, but only such as dealt with taxes, contributions, and other matters tending to strengthen the royal prerogative.’

The weakness and irresolution of the Bohemians, who could not decide upon either supporting their king or aiding the German Protestants, their indignation that the king should engage in foreign warfare without the consent of the Diet, and that he should introduce foreign mercenaries into the land—all this is very ably set forth by Sixt. He writes: ‘The conviction that the king had taken the field not only for the purpose of suppressing religious liberty, but that he was also preparing to destroy the constitution of the land, became general. It was, indeed, a thing unheard of that the king should undertake any war whatever in the name of the kingdom without the consent of the Estates, and that he should order them to grant him financial aid according to his own valuation, threatening them with the severest punishments. Besides this, the Italians and other foreigners used threatening language to the citizens of Prague, openly saying that in a short time they would acquire for nothing the houses, the wives and the daughters of the Bohemians, and that they would wade in their blood; they also called the Bohemians traitors and heretics.’

I cannot, of course, follow Sixt in his account of the mismanaged and ineffectual national rising, and I have already briefly referred to the penalties which were its consequence, and which appear a slight foreshadowing of the terrible events of 1621.

Sixt’s book is still little known, and even now no complete printed edition exists, though a considerable portion was reprinted by Professor Tieftrunk^[3], while Professor Denis and I have translated some parts of the book into French and English.

A contemporary of Sixt, but an historian of a very different character, was Wenceslas Hajek of Libocan. His book, which was ‘inspired,’ never shared the complete oblivion that was for a long time the fate of most books written in the Bohemian language. Hajek’s book therefore became famous, and the author, who was known as the ‘Bohemian Livy,’ ranked as a great historian. It is since Palacký’s valuable work, Würdigung der böhmischen Geschichtschreiber (An Appreciation of the Historians of Bohemia) appeared, that public opinion has completely changed with regard to Hajek. Palacký has clearly proved not only that Hajek was entirely devoid of historical criticism—no uncommon failing at his time—but that he purposely distorted historical facts. This applies particularly to the period of the Hussite wars, the most important one in the annals of Bohemia. His constant purpose is to describe the deeds of the Bohemians of this period and the motives of their leaders in the most unfavourable light. His book shares with that of Aeneas Sylvius the somewhat doubtful merit of having been, up to the beginning of the nineteenth century, the very impure source from which all those drew who wrote on the history of Bohemia. Hajek’s work was translated into Latin and German at an early date, and it obtained many readers. The book was published under the patronage of Ferdinand I, to whom it was dedicated. Hajek, as he himself states, had been working for six years at his book before he finished it in 1553, and he addressed a petition to the king begging him to grant him a ‘privilege’—assure his copyright as we should say—for ten years. To this Ferdinand consented, but he at the same time appointed several officials who were ‘diligently to sit in judgement on this chronicle, carefully to look it through, and to strike out and efface whatever in it they might find disorderly.’

Hajek’s book may therefore be considered as having been written by order of the Government, who of course favoured absolutist and Romanist views. Of course, this tendency is not very obvious in the earliest part of the work, where Hajek reproduces the tales and often the very words of Cosmas and Dalimil; but from the time of Hus downward the book is a deliberate and unscrupulous attempt to falsify history. Hajek has not attempted to relate the facts connected with the reign of his patron, for his history ends with the coronation of Ferdinand I at Prague.

Of Hajek’s life little is known. We know, however, that he was born an Utraquist, but joined the Church of Rome at an early age. He appears to have been a man of strong and somewhat unscrupulous ambition. We read that as early as in 1524—the exact year of birth is uncertain, but he must at any rate then have been very young—Hajek preached in the church of St. Thomas at Prague. Some time later he obtained the rich deanery of Karlštýn, of which he was afterwards deprived, being accused of having embezzled money belonging to the deanery. About this time he began to write his history, perhaps with the intention of regaining the favour of King Ferdinand and of the Romanist nobles who had granted him their protection. It is no doubt in consequence of this that Hajek’s book redounds with effusive praise of the nobility, while he writes somewhat contemptuously of the townsmen.

Hajek appears for a time to have been successful in his attempt to regain the favour of his patrons, for we are told that the provostship of Stará Boleslav^[4] was granted to him. This dignity, however, he also appears soon to have forfeited by various offences against canonical law. He finally retired to the Dominican monastery of St. Anne at Prague, where he died in 1553.

Among the historians of the period beginning with 1526 and ending with 1620, with which I am now dealing, the writers belonging to the community of the Bohemian Brethren undoubtedly held a very high rank. It is true that this is to a certain extent but a conjecture, for during the period of reaction that followed the battle of the White Mountain, the works of the Brethren were specially marked out for destruction by the Jesuits. I shall have occasion in my next lecture, when referring to Dr. Gindely’s history of the Bohemian Brethren, again to refer to this interesting community. It is sufficient here to note that the Brethren very carefully preserved all historical records, and, of course, principally all documents that referred to the past of their own community. The archives which they established first at Žamberk^[5] and afterwards at Litomyšl must have contained many documents of priceless value for the history of Bohemia. Of these writers who belonged to the community of the Brethren, Brother Jan Blahoslav certainly enjoyed the greatest fame. His Historie Bratrská (History of the Brotherhood), of which but scanty fragments have been preserved, was greatly praised by his contemporaries, not only for its erudition and profoundness it was based on the archives of the community but also for the pureness of its Bohemian style. It is one of the great merits of the Brethren that they bestowed great pains on the development of the national language. A memorial of these endeavours is the Bohemian version of the Bible known as the Bible of Králice. It was published about the end of the sixteenth century, and was the joint work of several divines of the Brotherhood.

Brother Blahoslav was a very prominent member of the community. According to Dr. Jireček, who has published an interesting study of him, Blahoslav was born at Přerov, in Moravia, in 1523, of a family that was probably of noble descent. Early in life he visited Wittenberg and attended Luther’s sermons. Their influence on him seems to have been very great, as he became a member of that section of the Brotherhood which was in close touch with the German Reformers. During a later journey Blahoslav also met Melanchthon, who, we are told, ‘made many inquiries concerning Bohemian matters.’ He afterwards settled as one of the divines of his community at Mladá Boleslav^[6] in Bohemia, and here began to work at his history of the Brotherhood. Towards the end of his life he became a superior, or, as they were sometimes called, bishop, of his community, and continued his indefatigable labours up to 1571, when he died at Krumlov, while on a journey of inspection. Though only fragments of Blahoslav’s great historical work remain, some of his writings have been preserved, but as they are not of a historical character they require no notice here.

I shall on the other hand now mention a work that was long attributed to Blahoslav. The authorship of the book entitled The Life of Jan Augusta has given rise to one of those controversies which are almost inevitable when—as was the case in Bohemia—an almost forgotten literature is rediscovered after a lapse of two centuries. It was formerly believed that The Life of Jan Augusta was a work of Blahoslav, and afterwards that he had only written part of the book, but the most recent critics state that the author of the book was Jacob Bilek, a member of the Brotherhood and Bishop Augusta’s companion in prison, but that the book was written under the supervision of Blahoslav.

After the national rising of 1546 and 1547, the always clear-headed policy of King Ferdinand I had endeavoured to divide the Bohemians. The nobles and knights had to a large extent been restored to the royal favour, while the townsmen had lost a large part of their former rights. Similarly the king was lenient to the Utraquists, but relentless in his attitude towards the members of the Brotherhood. That community was then entirely under the direction of John^[7] Augusta, whom it afterwards chose as its bishop. When after the speedy collapse of the Bohemian movement severe measures were taken against the Brethren, Augusta and his secretary were treacherously seized and conveyed to the Hradčany castle at Prague, where they were examined judicially and suffered torture. They were then conveyed to the castle of Türglitz or Křivoklat, where Augusta remained up to 1564, while Bílek obtained his liberty in 1561.

Bílek’s book which, though entitled The Life of Augusta, is really only an account of his imprisonment, is very touching and pathetic. The little incidents of prison-life that appear so great to the captive are recorded in a manner which as I wrote some time ago occasionally reminds the reader of Silvio Pellico’s Prigioni.

It is not very clear what the exact accusation levelled against Augusta and Bílek was. Dr. Jireček, however, states that the Brethren were said to have prayed for the success of the German Protestants, and also to have granted them financial aid. Bílek, to whom Augusta had entrusted the financial affairs of the community, was accused of having sent a large sum of money to the Elector of Saxony and Wittenberg. The efforts of the Austrian officials to induce the Brethren to confess these and other offences were, however, ineffectual, though very severe torture was employed. Bílek has left us in his book a very graphic account of their interrogatory, and of the manner in which torture was applied to them during the intervals of the questioning. Finally, Bílek writes, ‘the officials ordered that he (Augusta) should again be placed on the rack because of the questions mentioned before; but it did not last long, as he had become quite silent and swooned away. I think, had they but continued a little longer, he would have died during the torture.’

As already mentioned, it was at last decided that Augusta and Bílek should be imprisoned at the castle of Křivoklat, and they were conveyed there from Prague in the night of May 25, 1548. I will translate only a brief passage from Bílek’s description of their prison-life. He writes: ‘In the year 1550, the Lord God wrought a great miracle, opening out for them in their secrecy and seclusion a path that was also secret and secluded, thus enabling their friends to visit them and to receive news from them; and this happened thus: among the guards who watched them, and had strict injunctions how to watch over them, there was a servant who knew them slightly and knew what men they were, for he had formerly been in service at Litomyšl. He well knew that they suffered all this not because of any evil deed that they had committed, but because of the religion; he therefore felt a certain pity for them. Risking everything, he then consented to give them all they required, and that was sent them by their brethren and friends, as well as to forward all their communications to their friends. He began doing this in 1550, before the day of the Conversion of St. Paul, and continued it up to the year 1553. He obtained for both of them letters from their brethren and dear friends, ink, paper, and all that is required for writing. He also brought them some books and other things that they required, such as money and tapers, and they accepted them not without much concern for the man’s sake; for they feared that he would forfeit his life, if it were discovered that he had given them these things. As regards themselves, they had in everything commended themselves to God and to His grace, whatever might befall, and they knew that they had acted well. They were therefore not much concerned about themselves, and rejoiced that God had granted them these things, accepting them with much gratitude and thanksgiving, and praising the Lord therefore.’ I regret to be unable to quote more extensively from this interesting little book. The last years of Augusta’s captivity were somewhat lightened by the kindness of Philippina Welser, the morganatic wife of the archduke Ferdinand, who then resided at Křivoklat. Before leaving Bílek I should mention that his book—which was written in Bohemian—has recently been translated into German by Dr. Joseph Müller^[8], a distinguished member of the community of Herrenhut.

Among the historians who belonged to the community of the Brethren, Wenceslas Březan deserves a prominent place, though his works also have unfortunately been only partially preserved. Of Březan’s life little is known; and the Jesuit Balbinus, usually a somewhat generous adversary, has not disdained to attempt to sully his memory by repeating unworthy and untruthful tales concerning Březan. Though the dates cannot be settled with absolute certainty, it maybe roughly affirmed that Březan was born about the year 1560, and died about the year 1619. He was probably from his early youth in the service of the great Bohemian House of Rosenberg; and Peter Vok of Rosenberg, the last of that great line, conferred on him the title of ' archivist and historiographer of the House of Rosenberg.’ We have reports of numerous historical works by Březan, but many of them have been lost. His great work was entitled The Annals of the House of Rosenberg. The book consisted of five parts, two of which have been preserved and recently printed. Writing in 1830, Palacký says: ‘Wenceslas Březan, the last archivist of the Rosenberg family at Třeboň or Wittingau, was a genealogist and biographer to whom none other is equal. He collected all his facts principally from the inexhaustible treasures of his archives, which he had studied with indefatigable diligence. His historical narrative is superior to that of all his contemporaries as regards clearness, thoroughness, truthfulness and reliability, and nothing is more to be regretted than that his works have remained unprinted and generally unnoticed.’

As I have already mentioned, since this was written the last two parts of the Rosenberg chronicle the lives of William and of Peter of Rosenberg have been published, the former in 1847 by the society of the Bohemian museum under the auspices of Palacký himself, the latter in 1880 by Mr. Mareš, now archivist at Wittingau. Of the two biographies that of William of Rosenberg, the less interesting of the two brothers, is the more valuable.

William of Rosenberg held high office in the service of the empire, and Březan’s biography has great historical value. Particularly interesting is Březan’s account of the negotiations in connexion with the candidature of William for the Polish throne. It is a proof of the strength and power of the great Bohemian nobles of this time that William did not fear to appear as rival even of the Emperor Maximilian, who himself coveted the Polish throne. Březan writes under the year 1574: ‘After the flight of Henry of Valois the Poles sought a new king; some inclined to the House of Austria, others desired Lord William of Rosenberg, particularly as he was a descendant of the ancient family of the Orsinis, and as by his ancestors several centuries back he was a Bohemian, thus belonging to a cognate country, and because he was a sensible, learned, temperate, Catholic nobleman.’

This candidature evidently caused some displeasure at the court of Vienna. Under 1576 Březan writes: ‘Our sovereign Lord (that is William of Rosenberg) incurred greatly the suspicion of His Majesty (the Emperor) because he was favoured by the Polish lords, and it was suggested that he had acted rather in his own interest than in that of the House of Austria. But this prudent lord who wished to avoid all slights, harm and danger in connexion with this matter, bore himself with great wisdom. . . . He also let the Poles know that he had no intention of obtaining their kingdom by begging or purchase, but that if he was legally, publicly and unanimously chosen, he would, without offence to His Majesty the Emperor, not disdain such an election. Thus he succeeded in remaining on good terms with both parties.’

As I wrote some time ago, Březan’s biography of Lord Peter of Rosenberg is somewhat disappointing. Though the thought should be rejected as frivolous, one cannot help imagining what a biography of Peter of Rosenberg from the pen of an impressionist historian might have been.

Though a man of such exceptional talent and ability such as Lord Peter, can never be considered as typical, yet he is a good example of the peculiar character which the exceptional surrounding of a great Bohemian nobleman of the sixteenth and early seventeenth century produced. These noblemen lived in vast castles, the centres of enormous estates, some of which were of the size of German duchies. They were equally removed from the influence of popular opinion and from that of the royal and imperial courts which afterwards turned great nobles into courtiers. There was every inducement to give way to originality and even eccentricity, and both are obvious in Lord Peter. He was devoted to alchemy and a great collector of paintings and sculpture. The library and archives of Třebon were to him of constant interest. The head of the only great Bohemian family that had always upheld the cause of Rome, he joined the community of the Bohemian Brethren.

This change of faith was, of course, an event of the highest political importance in Bohemia. Rosenberg, after joining the national party, for a time took a great though somewhat amateurish interest in politics. He formed a close political alliance with Christian of Anhalt, perhaps the greatest statesman of the seventeenth century. I must hurry to the close of this short notice of Březan’s work. I have been able to deal with it somewhat more fully in my History of Bohemian Literature. I will, however, quote a portion of the rather striking description of the personality of Rosenberg which Březan gives; he writes: ‘He (Lord Peter) was a nobleman of well-shaped figure, and more refined than his brother William. His features were charming, his manners dignified and truly princely; his speech was sensible; he was compassionate and affable; and though he was sometimes angry, whenever he had scolded or cursed some one, he always afterwards excused himself with mild words. He was a gay and jocose nobleman, though in his old age he gave himself up entirely to piety, and read religious books with pleasure, and listened eagerly to the word of God. He was keen for all novelties, a lover of all sciences and arts, and he spent large sums on them. He had a special fancy and predilection for building, and in this resembled his brother William. He was in the habit of standing oftener than sitting, and of walking constantly and so quickly that it was difficult for even young men to keep up with him. . . . He was a very valorous nobleman, courageous, and even somewhat venturesome; for he boldly approached wild beasts, bears, wolves, horses, and dogs without feeling any fear. And, on the whole, I do not know that there was anything wanting in this heroic personage, except that which he himself deplored on his death-bed, that he had not sufficiently cultivated the study of literature.’

Peter of Rosenberg died in 1611, only seven years before the general conflagration broke out which Christian of Anhalt and he had foreseen, and in view of which they had formed deep-laid plans. It is only since the works of Gindely (to whom I shall refer in my next lecture) have appeared that it has become obvious how inevitable the Bohemian rising of 1618 was. Through the indefatigable and not always scrupulous energy of the Jesuits, a part of the Bohemian nobility not as yet a considerable one, but it included some of the greatest nobles had been converted to the Church of Rome. The outspoken hostility of these men to the national Church irritated the large majority of the Bohemian people who belonged to it. On the other hand, many Protestants no doubt thought it better to precipitate the inevitable conflict, before the energy of the Jesuits had further thinned the nationalist ranks. A temporary lull was indeed the result of the document signed in 1609 by King Rudolph, which is known in history as the ‘Letter of Majesty,’ and which guaranteed the rights and liberties of the Protestants, as all those who did not conform with the Church of Rome were now called. On the same day another agreement was signed by the Romanist and Protestant members of the Diet, in which they guaranteed full religious liberty to each other. Unfortunately, in December, 1617, the Romanists violated this agreement^[9].

The Protestants immediately rose in arms. On May 23, 1618, the Austrian officials were thrown from the windows of the Hradčany palace, and a provisional government was formed. On August 26, 1619, the Count Palatine Frederick was elected King of Bohemia. His want of military talent and even of courage rendered him quite unable to resist the Romanist coalition that was speedily formed, and which included Austria, Bavaria, Spain, and Poland. The defeat of the Bohemian forces at the battle of the White Mountain ended the existence of Bohemia as an independent country, and for a time it appeared probable that even the national language would disappear. A melancholy epilogue to these tragic events were the executions at Prague on June 21, 1621.

Of these stirring events we have two contemporary accounts, both written in the national language by men who themselves played a part in these events. Of these writers one, William Count Slavata, was one of the most trusted councillors of the Emperor Ferdinand II; the other, Skála ze Zhoře, a Protestant and a government official of King Frederick.

William Count Slavata, Lord of Chlum and Košumberk, is well known to all students of the Thirty Years’ War. He enjoyed high favour at the court of Vienna during the reigns of both Ferdinand II and Ferdinand III. Born in 1572 as a member of the Bohemian Brotherhood, he joined the Church of Rome in 1597, to the great indignation of the members of his family, who all belonged to the Brotherhood. Probably in consequence of these family dissensions Slavata—who in early youth had already travelled extensively in Italy—now undertook another long journey through England, Scotland, Denmark, and other countries. On his return to Bohemia he soon found favour at court, and obtained high offices of state. He was one of the very few Bohemian nobles who opposed the granting of the ‘Letter of Majesty’ in 1609, and in 1619 he was one of the Austrian officials who were thrown from the windows of the Hradčany palace. I shall presently quote part of Skála’s account of this memorable event.

It is not my purpose to refer to Slavata’s political career. He was one of the principal agents in the re-establishment of the Church of Rome in Bohemia, and contributed largely to the downfall of Wallenstein, whose personal enemy he was, and whom he—probably rightly—suspected of wishing to re-establish liberty of religion in Bohemia.

The literary activity of Slavata is a slight but curious incident in the career of Slavata. Dr. Jireček, who some years ago edited the most valuable part of Slavata’s works, tells us that he in 1636 accompanied the Emperor Ferdinand to the Diet held at Regensburg. A pamphlet written by his old adversary, Count Thurn, here fell into his hands. The pamphlet dealt mainly with the then recent assassination of Wallenstein, but Slavata also found in it an allusion to the defenestration, all mention of which—as Dr. Jireček writes—greatly irritated Slavata. Thurn stated that the throwing of the officials from the Hradčany windows was a just deed, and that they had deserved such punishment.

After consulting some of his friends, Slavata resolved to write his memoirs of the period of 1608 to 1619, and incidentally to refute Thurn. These memoirs or paměty, as they are called in Bohemian, have great value, as Slavata constantly quotes state papers to which he had free access. They long remained in manuscript, but were edited and published by the late Dr. Jireček some years ago. They lend themselves very little to brief quotations. In my History of Bohemian Literature I have quoted a considerable portion of Slavata’s account of the banquet which King Frederick’s officials gave to the envoys whom the Sultan had sent to Prague. It is a masterpiece of finesse and skilful animosity.

In the last years of his life Slavata appears to have acquired a taste for writing history. He wrote a very extensive book, entitled Historical Works, consisting of fourteen manuscript volumes. The memoirs already mentioned were included in this book. The rest of the huge work, in which Slavata treats of the history of Bohemia from the earliest times, has little value. Slavata’s principal authorities are Aenaeas Sylvius and Hajek, and a lengthy treatise (included in the book), which attempts to prove that the Bohemian crown was hereditary, is inconclusive and was unnecessary, as the matter had been settled ‘by blood and iron’ at the battle of the White Mountain.

I shall now refer to Paul Skála ze Zhoře, one of the greatest historians of Bohemia, perhaps her greatest, before the days of Palacký. Skála was born at Žatec^[10] in 1583. He received his earliest education at Prague, and afterwards visited the then far-famed University of Wittenberg, then the centre of Protestant learning. In 1603 Skála returned to his country and settled at Žatec, where he took considerable part in local politics, always proving himself a firm adherent of the cause of Church reform. In the memorable year 1618, Skála proceeded to Prague, where he held office; first under the provisional government, and then under that of King Frederick. After the battle of the White Mountain he fled from Bohemia, and followed King Frederick into exile. He remained at his court up to the year 1622, and was employed by him on several diplomatic missions. In 1622 Frederick, on the advice of his father-in-law King James, endeavoured to come to terms with the House of Austria, and was prepared to renounce his claims to the Bohemian throne for that purpose. An exiled Bohemian was, therefore, no longer a welcome guest at Frederick’s court. Skála now retired to Freiberg in Saxony, where he lived in seclusion for a considerable time, dying probably not long after the year 1640, in which his name is mentioned for the last time.

It was at Freiberg that Skála devoted himself to historical study. Besides minor works, to which I have not time to refer, Skála wrote at Freiberg his Historie Církevní (History of the Church), the most extensive, as well as one of the most valuable historical works in the Bohemian language. The book, which consists of ten large folio volumes—the largest has 1,700 pages, the others not much fewer—has been preserved in manuscript in Count Waldstein’s library. In spite of its name, it deals as much with political as with ecclesiastical matters. It begins with ‘The conversion of the heathens to the Christian faith, and the terrible subjection of that faith to the yoke of Antichrist,’ and ends with the year 1623.

Some years ago, the learned Professor Tieftrunk published, in two large volumes, a considerable portion of Skála’s book, namely, those chapters that deal with the affairs of Bohemia from 1602 to 1623. Professor Tieftrunk writes in his introduction: ‘These years can be considered as a closely-connected period, and as the melancholy conclusion of the more glorious days of Bohemian history.’

I can only quote a few passages from Skála’s work that refer to these memorable years, and will first translate some portion of his account of the defenestration; he writes: ‘On the twenty-third of May, the day that is the beginning and opening of all the misery and misfortunes that followed, the representatives of the cities met at 8 in the morning at the Hradčany palace. Then Joachim Andrew Count Šlik meeting the representatives of the town of Slary, seized them both by the hand, and after carefully looking around the room (for at that time many Romanists were spying in all parts of the palace) he said: “I know that the estate of the townsmen is honourable and noble-minded, and that its members are honourable and noble-minded men, useful to their cities. . . . Therefore do I place my trust in you that you will keep to yourselves what I shall tell you. You well know that the Romanists^[11] wish to deprive us of the Letter of Majesty, which through the grace of God we obtained, with difficulty enough, and this with God’s help we will not permit. You will see and hear to-day terrible and unheard-of things, such as neither your ancestors nor mine ever saw or heard; things that will not please those who communicate in one kind. For the lords intend sincerely to uphold the Letter of Majesty in its substance and its integrity, and will treat those who violate it as they deserve. Also, I do not doubt that you in the towns are in the habit of reading Historias et Annales Bohemiae [these words are in Latin in the original], and that you well know how great were the liberties of the estate of the citizens under King Sigismund and King Wenceslas, and how much you forfeited and lost under King Ferdinand.”’

This passage proves, what indeed is admitted by all modern Bohemian historians, that the defenestration was a premeditated act. The Bohemians honestly believed that they were inflicting punishment according to law—the law of Judge Lynch, it must be admitted—on the Austrian officials.

I can only quote briefly from Skála’s detailed account of the actual defenestration. The nobles entered the council-chamber where the imperial officials were sitting. The latter refused to give an immediate answer to the Bohemians, who demanded guarantees for the liberty of their religion. A long discussion began, in which Counts Thurn and Šlik, Lobkovic, Kaplíř, and other Bohemian nobles took part, while Martinic and Slavata—the other imperial councillors had fled—were too terrified to say much in their own defence.

‘Immediately afterwards,’ Skála writes, ‘voices were heard among the nobles suggesting that these scoundrels should be arrested and hurried off^[12] to the Black Tower^[13]; but others cried out that the traitors should be thrown out of the windows.’

‘Then,’ Skála writes, ‘Count Thurn rapidly approached Slavata and seized him by the hand, while Ulrick Kinsley seized Martinic. . . . Then Thurn and Kinsky led them through the crowd of nobles, and then only did every one know that they were to be thrown from the windows. . . . Martinic mournfully entreated that he might be granted a confessor; he received the short answer that he should commend his soul to God. Slavata did not ask for a confessor, but prayed to the Lord to be with him.

‘No mercy was granted them, and first Martinic was dragged to the window, near which the secretaries generally worked, for Kinsky was quicker and had more aid than Count Thurn, who had first seized Slavata. They were then both thrown, dressed in their cloaks and with their swords and decorations, just as they had been found in the chancellor’s office, one after the other, head foremost, out of the westward window into the moat beneath the palace, which by a wall is divided from the other deeper moat. They loudly screamed “Alas! alas!” and attempted to hold on to the window-frame, but were at last obliged to let go, as they were struck on the hands.’

Skála gives us an interesting account—obviously founded on documentary evidence—of the attempts of the Bohemian government to obtain aid in its struggle against the House of Habsburg. The Austrian party displayed an equally great and more successful energy, and Bohemia became for a time the centre of European diplomacy. As I am addressing an English audience, it will, I think, be appropriate if I mention Skála’s remarks on the English policy with regard to the Bohemian question. After mentioning that Frederick founded great hopes on the aid of Louis of France, as the Electors Palatine had been allies of Henry IV, Skála writes: ‘But all these hopes proved vain, principally through the fault of his (Frederick’s) father-in-law, James, King of Great Britain; for the latter doing in this matter nothing or next to nothing, the neighbouring kings and potentates felt induced to follow his example, and, as it were, watching the events through their fingers, took up the cause of the son of the King of England, but carelessly and sleepily. Therefore it was no wonder that at last this young prince (Frederick) was necessarily defeated, and lost not only the Bohemian crown but also all his lands, and even the hereditary dignity of elector.

‘Now this King James was in this matter exceedingly indifferent, and evidently knew not how to take a final decision; for the matter on one side certainly touched his son-in-law and his own flesh and blood, and on the other the emperor and the King of Spain. He therefore neither wished to forsake his son-in-law, nor to incense those sovereigns with whom he lived on terms of peace. He greatly hoped that through his sagacity he could, by means of embassies and friendly letters, allay these misunderstandings. He was greatly strengthened and confirmed in these views by the Spanish agents and envoys who were constantly around him, and who wished to keep him to the resolution not to take up arms to help his son-in-law, the Elector Palatine.’

Skála naturally gives a detailed account of the battle of the White Mountain, which was the death-bed of Bohemian independence. Conscientious and rather lengthy historian as he always is, he has incorporated several contemporary accounts in his narrative, but it is obvious that it required some effort to him to refer to the latest and least glorious battle fought by the Bohemians as an independent people.

Where we again find Skála at his best is when we reach the executions of Prague, which were one of the results of the catastrophe of the White Mountain.

The Austrian government, which seems at first to have intended to assume a lenient attitude, soon decided to act with the utmost severity. After referring to the trial of the Bohemian leaders, and the evidence which by means of torture was obtained against them, Skála writes: ‘Thus was enacted this most doleful tragedy, hitherto unknown and unheard of in the Bohemian kingdom. But as it is of much interest to know in what frame of mind a man leaves this world (be his death natural or violent) and whether he leaves it with contentment or with sorrow, and how he prepares for it—therefore will I give here, word by word, the last sayings of these men according to the accounts of three clergymen who were present during the last moments of the Bohemian prisoners, and prepared them for the violent and, in the eyes of the world, dishonourable death that awaited them.’ I can, of course, only quote a few lines from Skála. Of the death of one of the Bohemian leaders, Dvořecky of Olbramovič, he writes: ‘When the judges called out his name, he referred to the House of Austria, saying that it had wrought much evil to the Bohemian kingdom, and that it was obvious that it would continue to do so. Then he sent word to his lady wife and his son, begging them to remain true to the religion.

‘When they again called his name, he declared that he was ready, and then said: “God be praised; may His holy will be done! I have lived for Him, and I now also die for Him. But as my Redeemer died and then arose from the dead to rule over the quick and the dead, so do I also believe that my soul will live and that my body will arise again on the day of resurrection, and then will be similar to His bright and splendid body.” Then he prayed for some time.

‘When they reached the scaffold, he turned to the balcony where the imperialist judges sat, and said, “Tell that emperor that I now stand before his unjust court of justice, but that he will once appear before a terrible and a just one.” The drums were beaten so loudly that it was only with difficulty that his words were heard. Then advised by the priest John, he turned to the scaffold, knelt down and prepared himself. Then, seeing his purse on the scaffold, he seized it and gave to one who was standing near a golden coin that had been struck in commemoration of the coronation of King Frederick, saying: “I bind you by your oath, when my dear King Frederick returns to the royal throne, to give this coin to him, and to tell him that I have carried it with me up to the scaffold because of the love that I bear him, and that for his cause I gladly shed my blood and die.” Then he knelt down, and while crying with a loud voice “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and receive my soul!” he blessedly ended his life and repaired to heaven.’

I have only time to quote one other passage from Skála’s narrative. It refers to the leave-taking of the Bohemian patriots, when they were separately led forth to execution. He writes: ‘This is worthy of notice, that when one of these holy men and martyrs for God’s cause was called forth, then to our great surprise a leave-taking ensued in a pleasant manner which rejoiced our hearts, just as if they were preparing to go to a banquet or some festival: “Now, my dear friends, may our Lord God bless you, may He grant you the consolations of the Holy Ghost, patience and courage, so that you may be able to prove now also in the moment of your death that you have heartily and bravely defended the honour of God. I go before you that I may first behold the glory of God, the glory of our beloved Redeemer, but I await you directly after me. Already in this hour earthly grief vanishes, and a new heart-felt and eternal gladness begins.” The other prisoners who remained behind answered: “May our Lord God bless you on your way for the sake of the guiltless death of Christ; may He send His holy angels to meet your soul. You go before us to the glory of heaven. We also shall follow you, and we are certain, because of Him in whom we have believed, Jesus Christ, that we shall meet again to-day, and rejoice for ever with our beloved Redeemer, the angels and the chosen of God.”’

Of the minor writers who belong to this period, I shall mention only two, who both wrote in Latin, and both wrote in exile.

The Bellum Bohemicum of Andrew of Habernfeld, a very scarce little volume, has considerable historical value. He fought on the national side at the battle of the White Mountain, of which he gives a spirited account that incidentally is very damaging to King Frederick. ‘After the battle was already almost lost,’ Habernfeld writes, ‘a rumour reached the king that the enemies were attacking the Bohemian camp. Interrupting his banquet he mounted his horse, wishing to view his endangered camp. A troop of fifty horsemen had arrived at the castle. I was myself one of those who interrupted the banquet. When the king reached the Strahov gate, it was closed. He beheld the terrible spectacle of his army in full flight. Terrified also by the fearful screams of the women, the king returned to the castle.’

Paul Stranský’s work, Respublica Bojema, was written while the author was living as an exile in Holland, and on the suggestion of those celebrated publishers the Elzevirs. It appeared in 1643, and was dedicated to the sons of King Frederick, Rupert and Maurice, princes of the Palatinate. It contains in one small volume a short outline of the ancient constitution of Bohemia, which is still valuable, and a brief sketch of the history of the country. Considering that Stranský had, as he himself tells us, been deprived of his entire fortune by the Imperialists, it must be admitted that the book is written with great moderation.

Both Skála and the two last-named authors wrote while in exile. In Bohemia historical and indeed all literature ceased for a time after the battle of the White Mountain. There is, with a few trifling exceptions, an interval of two centuries, speaking roughly, between the historians to whom I have now referred, and those who will be the subject of my last lecture.

1. In German, Leitmeritz.
2. Ferdinand I.
3. In his Odpor stavů českých proti Ferdinandovi I, i.e. Resistance of the Bohemian Estates to Ferdinand I.
4. In German, Alt-Bunzlau.
5. In German, Senftenberg.
6. In German, Jung-Bunzlau.
7. In Bohemian, ‘Jan.’
8. Leipzig, Josef Jansa, 1895.
9. It is, of course, impossible to enter into this matter here. I must refer those interested in these events to Dr. Gindely’s Geschichte Rudolphs II., Geschichte der Ertheilung des Majestätsbriefes, and Geschichte des dreissigjährigen Krieges. Founding my statements mainly on Dr. Gindely’s works, I have in my Bohemia, an Historical Sketch briefly referred to the question as to which party first violated the agreement of 1609, thus causing the Thirty Years’ War.
10. In German, Saaz.
11. In the Bohemian original ‘jedineškove,’ men who receive communion in one kind; the word was a nickname in the political warfare of Bohemia. To avoid giving a lengthy explanation, I have substituted the far less picturesque word ‘Romanist.’
12. In the original ‘vandrovali,’ to wander. It is unfortunately impossible to reproduce the humour of the Bohemian wording.
13. One of the state-prisons on the Hradčany.