Pond building history 2 - Jakub Krčín

The personality of Jakub Krčín is so legendary that it is sometimes hard to make out what is true and what has been embroidered in peoples' imagination. Perhaps it is because this brilliant builder and engineer, estate manager and regent over the vast Rozmberk empire, himself a gentleman landowner with several own fortresses and châteaux and a great number of own farms and villages, was so spread out - both in the astounding amount of work accomplished and in distances he must have travelled - that it's hard to imagine a single human being capable of such an achievement. We have the facts that are indisputable, and then we have the mysteries: the greatest mystery is connected to his grave. The grave is inside the church of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary in Obdenice, but the curious thing is that although the gravestone bears Krčín's birth date of July 1535, there is no date of death. And when in 1944 the church underwent a thorough reconstruction, the Krčín grave was found empty. Curious, given that he himself oversaw the building of his sepulchre and the making of his gravestone, and curious given that there were plenty of family around him, so they should have had the date carved into the stone. He wrote his will on the 19^th January 1604 but there is no record of his death or burial. And although guesses abound as to other places where he might have been buried, to this date no academic researchers or archeologists have found his remains.

Krčín studied at Prague University and then was employed as a land manager at a monastery in Borovany where he learnt his first pond-building skills from the experienced monks. But his main career started in 1562 when he entered into the service of the Rozmberks, where apart from ponds he designed and built more efficient sheep-farms, breweries, glass-works, mills, even silver mines. And he managed the running of the Krumlov castle - we still have his hand-written accounts in the Krumlov archive. He was obviously much valued as at the age of 35 he was made Regent of the whole Rozmberk 'empire'. But, as much as he was valued by his bosses, he was hated by the people who worked under him; he had a reputation of a cruel and impatient master – apparently, for example, he employed the local executioner as workforce supervisor at the building of the Rozmberk pond! No wonder then, that legends started to burgeon in people's minds. Often his brilliant calculations and engineering ideas seemed impossible to his workforce - they believed the only way that some of his more daring designs stood the tests of reality was because Krčín had a pact with Hell. They whispered that he walks the banks of his canals with black cats on his shoulder of a night, and when he built his own Krepenice fortress in a record time, people were convinced the speed was due to devils working for him in exchange for his soul. This especially as they observed noxious smoke issuing out of Krčín's chimneys on dark nights. This was the smoke from his alchemical laboratory. Whether he wanted to make philosopher's stone or just plain gold, or an elixir that would help him father a son and heir (he produced 6 daughters) we shall never know.

 But this was a time when Alchemy was a pursuit very much in vogue – especially here in Bohemia where the Emperor Rudolf himself, a man of burning interest in Nature, philosophy, and the arts and sciences of the time, was also passionate about alchemy, gathering around him in Prague not only top natural scientists, astronomers and artists of his time, but also alchemists and magicians. And Vilem Rozmberk – a man perhaps even richer than the Crown, wasn't going to be left behind, and his South Bohemian dominion became a meeting place for alchemists: Vilem even sheltered the English alchemists John Dee and Edward Kelly when they escaped Emperor Rudolf's wrath. But that's another story. Suffice to say that Krčín did labour on his own Opus. Well, who knows, perhaps he really managed to achieve the ultimate Elixir: perhaps he is still alive somewhere, hence the mystery of his empty tomb :-)

But what does make him truly immortal is his engineering genius, as all the ponds, and most of his other works have not only survived but are still in working order now.

Well, that's, in brief, the story of Krčín. I will do one more (and more sobre) blog just to finish the general history of the pond building.

Better than dreaming.

Just moments ago, I had the weirdest, most wonderful experience:
in the blog below, I waxed lyrical about the gifts of the riverside living in the midst of this busy town. And now those gifts have all combined - I went for an evening swim just here on the bank in front of the house. The night was falling, the water was fresh but pleasant, and as I drifted in the current, I floated some 100 yards downstream which happens to be by the Brewery gardens, where Jose Cura's recital was in full swing. The orchestra and the voice boomed over the silent water, one great Puccini aria after another. And in the other direction, up river, there glowed the castle, lit up in its fairytale evening garb. The combination of the three senses - the sounds, the water, and the magical light were undescribably special. I stayed in the water, still, for ages, not wishing to break the spell.
And again I thanked the gods for the gifts that one can get. You see, it has been a hot hot day, and the town was full of VIPs and limos as today is the first day of the International music festival. All these bigwigs came to crowd around and be important inside the Brewery gardens. Yet there I was, alone, experiencing the beautiful music heightened by my watery solitude.... And when I got home, I just managed, from the balcony, to take this picture of the festival opening fireworks, as the concert came to its end.Life can be truly magical sometimes.

secret well

Deep in a forest - you have to trek a good couple of kilometres uphill from the nearest road - lies, completely hidden, this little spring. No path leads to it. And hardly anyone knows about it - I've lived here 9 years now and no-one mentioned it until a wonderful female friend took me there, with her little daughter. 'I'll show you something truly out of this world', she said. And it was. Someone, long time ago, took the trouble to build a stone-home for this clear spring, perhaps because they thought it healing. And perhaps it is. And then, - I guess in the 19th century judging by its style - someone took the trouble to carve a figure in deep thought and reverence, to gaze into its source. And someone, now, took the trouble to bring a string of beads to adorn the statue, and left a couple of mugs for passers-by who are in on the secret.
We sat in equal reverence, gazing into the water so clear that you could hardly see it. And we drank - to our health.

Czech Christmas traditions - Christmas Eve

While the main event of the day is the festive dinner and the gifts under the tree, many families here still take pleasure in the few rituals that have to do with looking into the future, because Christmas - or more precisely the Winter solstice with its promise of new light - used to be seen as the start of the new year. The roots of these customs go back to pagan times.
Here are a few:
Lead melting : take a lump of lead (used to be a lead coin, now a fishing weight) and melt it in a strong pan. Pour a small amount of the molten lead into a pan with tepid water. The resulting shape of the solidified lead signifies your future.
Walnut boats : each person puts a small candle in a half-shell. These 'boats' then float in a large basin. Whose boat sails towards the middle will leave home, boats that stay near the rim signify those who stay at home, and if two boats keep sailing next to one another, these two people will be very close.
Shoe throwing : this is a custom for single women. Stand at the furtherest part of the room, with your back facing the door. Throw a shoe over your head towards the door: if it lands with its tip towards the door, you will marry. If it faces back into the room, you will stay single.
Apple cutting : (this only for the brave!) Cut an apple in half, cross-wise. If the seed-chamber is in the shape of a star, you will have a good, healthy year. If it is misshapen or rotten, you will be ill. If it is in the shape of a cross, you will die.
Spring-gazing : At midnight, girls go to the nearest spring or pond - if it is frozen, they make a hole in the ice. Water at midnight is magical, as it does not reflect your face but instead acts as a window into your future.

dreaming shrines

Phil's contribution below has prompted me to tell you about the hundreds of little shrines and chapels that you can find by the roadsides here, but also dotted about the countryside, even hidden in the middle of forests. Potok in her own blog, and I in this, have both mentioned them already, but maybe these little gems deserve another look.
In the old days, these shrines and chapels served two main purposes:
1/ to mark the travellers' and pilgrims' paths from monastery to monastery, or 2/ to provide a circular route with the Stations of the Cross, which served the Catholic pilgrimage festivals (the most remarkable of these circular routes in this area is by the village and monastery of Římov, well worth a visit). Then there are the odd solitaires - suddenly in the middle of nowhere, you will find a cross or a small shrine seemingly out of context - but these usually mark places where someone wanted to give thanks for a fortunate meeting, or had some moment of revelation, or they mark a spring that used to be regarded as healing.
Then of course there are also the 'guardian' crucifixes or shrines, usually at some crossroads, because even in the pre-Christian, pagan, times, the crossroads were always regarded as magical places, where witches and devils might have lurked, so the shrines and the crucifixes are there for the protection of the travellers.

Well, some of the old paths have by now become major roads, some fell into disuse or were planted over by forestry. But even in the dense forests, wherever you should come upon such a forgotten shrine that seems like something out of a dream, you may be certain that the ground nearby bears a distinct groove where the ancient road would have been, and where you can imagine the hundreds of feet and horse-hooves that once trod this well-worn path. I am told that if you follow these monastery-to-monastery paths*, you are actually walking on ley-lines, as the monasteries were already built on places of such power. That's if you like to believe in these things.
The photos here are from a walk I took in the Autumn, a walk that starts with a shrine outside our house and leads into a forest not more than a mile away. This beautiful little chapel on the right (consecrated, so people still hold services there) has beautifully carved seats and a proper altar -
and further on, right in the depth of the forest, is this tall, narrow shrine with no opening at all - the legend has it a nun was walled into it as a punishment for an affair with a monk, who, in turn, came in the night to break the walls to rescue her. A long story, which would take too long to tell here, but another impulse for contemplation when one stops for a moment on one's forest walk.

Phil is right to mention the statistics about the Czechs being the most Atheistic nation in Europe, but they love their shrines (they survived, relatively, even during Communism) and even now, as you pass, you can see in almost every one of them at least a little flower, if not a candle or a picture, because you never know, they might still hold the power to grant your wishes or have your prayers answered :-)

*These paths make wonderful walking itineraries. See www.mapyonline.cz where you can purchase a map that clearly marks all the hundreds of chapels and shrines - Shocart, No 36

Out with the Winter, in with the Spring - a folk ritual

Every year at around this time, our neighbours' huge family gather with a few friends, among whom I have the privilege to be counted, to do a Czech traditional Spring ritual. It involves making an effigy of Winter, and taking it to the river, where it is burnt and thrown down stream.
And so it was yesterday, too: the family own a fabulous early-renaissance mill right outside Cesky Krumlov, which they've had for 30 years or so, but is it still in a comfortably delapidated state that makes it desperately attractive and homely (one of those 'ahh, I wish...' sort of places, of which, I am sure, I shall be writing much more as time goes by). Anyway, here they all were: old, young, toddlers, dogs, cats, goats, food and drink, musical instruments.... The effigy is a combined effort, it gets made and dressed, its face painted fearsome and ugly, and it is given a necklace of painted eggs. Then, accompanied by singing and dancing, the crowd, bearing fresh twigs with ribbons, takes it to the river, where it is ceremonially lit.

More singing, and the burning Winter is thrown into the water,
chivvied on its way downstream by 'Out out out, let the Spring come in' (except it rhymes in Czech :-) of course ) Then everyone dances back into the Mill, waving their fresh twigs, which they'll take home and put in a vase to watch their buds open in a day or two.

The family keep photos of this event that go back 30 years, and it is moving to see the patriarch in his prime, and the babies on the old photos now being women in their 30s with children of their own, yet still doing the same things, singing the same songs, year by year.
May their yearly rituals, like the changing seasons, go on forever.

walking to Klet mountain

I was just settling down to do some work this morning, when a friend called, and dragged me out. And was I glad! We went up to the Klet mountain, which is the highest hill overlooking Cesky Krumlov, some 1060m high. The locals all hold it in some reverence, in fact it was already worshiped by the Celts in the past and there are some remnants of their settlements there. Indeed some of the locals who are into pagan stuff go out there walking the ley-lines and talking to menhirs. Nevermind, for me it is a magic mountain too, but it is because I love the sheer beauty of it, and the way it changes with the seasons.

The mountain is part of the Blansky Forest Area of natural beauty, so its forests are still growing the sorts of trees that would have naturally grown there for centuries, especially beaches. They come to their own in the Autumn of course when they positively radiate their golden colours, but even now they are lovely and cathedral-like in their upright majesty.

Not much snow on the ground any more, but the sun was shining and when we got to the top, we had fabulous views which I am so glad to be able to share with you here. Sometimes on days like this, there is a so-called inversion, when it is misty below and bright at higher altitudes, so you see tops of hills sticking through the clouds, but on clear days you can see all the way to the Alps from here. Maybe that's why, already in the early 19th century, a look-out tower was built here, followed a 100 years later by a mountain chalet/restaurant.

But now Klet also hosts a world-class observatory and a rather unfortunate TV/radio tower. Still, the mountain look-out is well beloved by everyone, and those who can't or won't walk up to it can take an ancient chair-lift, so whole families and various groups of oldies will gather here for picnics and a breath of fresh mountain air.

It was a lovely day out, and I just wanted to share it with you.

Undiscovered jewel?

‘The Crown jewel of Bohemia’ – that’s how people in the know describe Cesky Krumlov, a tiny mediaeval town close to the Austrian border. We love being here, and this non-commercial blog is just to record our thoughts and feelings about the town, and the area, and to give you an idea about life here should you ever come to visit.

THE PLACE

The town sits in the foothills of Sumava, a region of National Parks and protected Areas of Natural Beauty. It nestles in the crook of the river Vltava, and its narrow, cobbled, higgledy-piggledy streets are overlooked by a huge castle that towers on the rocks above. My English friends fondly describe the castle’s older parts as ‘Gormenghast’, while the Czechs are more prone to sing praises to its richly painted Renaissance buildings and the mystical tower bearing Alchemical symbols that tie it to the times when South Bohemia was a place of John Dee’s retreat.

In fact, the adjectives ‘magical’, or ‘fairytale’ are the ones most frequently heard from the lips of visitors who gaze at Krumlov for the first time, while its Czech residents nod their heads sagely, and say quite seriously that indeed there is deep magic under these rocks – healing springs issuing from silver and graphite veins below, and ley-line crossroads that later materialised in the many Celtic roads and settlements, marked to this day by standing rocks and little chapels dotted around the town, or hidden in the forests nearby.

But the romantic description doesn’t end here: every house has a story to tell, their painted facades often hide clues to their former occupants, and walking around the town is like a journey through a historic puzzle that is still waiting to be deciphered.

And for those who like to immerse themselves in this old-world atmosphere, the town offers wonderful restaurants serving mediaeval style meals, crafts markets, gypsy bands, even festivals where the residents dress up to parade around the town, and perform Summer solstice or Christmas traditional plays, or passion plays for Easter.