Historical Consciousness of German Travellers to Bohemia (1750–1850)

Historical Consciousness of German Travellers to Bohemia (1750–1850) Martina Power KEYWORDS Historical Consciousness — Travelling — Bohemia — Habsburg Monarchy — Social History In 1823 and 1824 Weimar monthly fashion and culture magazine Journal für Literatur, Kunst, Luxus und Mode published a series of letters from a journey to Prague entitled Reisenotizen über Prag. Aus Briefen von Cäcilia.1 The anonymous authoress of the travelogue was Amalie Ludecus, a step-daughter of the then popular writer Karoline Ludecus. Under the influence of her family and friends (including Karl August Böttiger, Johann Gottfried Herder, Johan Wolfgang Goethe and other members of the Weimar cultural circle) Amalie launched her literary career and became a regular contributor to the German periodicals. In her travel notes about Prague she focused on architecture, cultural and social life and described the most popular visitors’ sites. Trying to capture the local atmosphere she pointed out the extraordinary historic character of Bohemia’s capital:„Es gibt in Deutschland, ja in Europa wenig Städte, in denen jeder Stein so lebhaft geschichtliche Erinnerungen weckt, und zur Seele des Menschen ein so ernstes, mahnendes Wort spräche, als eben Prag.“2 Ludecus was not the only German author who in the first half of the nineteenth century commented on the strong presence of past in Bohemia. The visit of Bohemia evoked historical reminiscences also in other travellers. Analysing the German travel literature about Bohemia published between 1750 and 1850, present article aims to identify such geographical sites that were associated with important historical events and were part of the collective memory of German travellers. Collective memory represents an essential segment of collective identity. Despite occasional criticism advocating unique and individual nature of remembrance, contemporary cultural science regards the concept as a valuable method for understanding the process of communities’ and identities’ formation. Memory shared by certain social group has been often described as an effective instrument for strengthening its collective identity. It establishes who does and who does not belong 1 Anonym [Ludecus, Amalie], Reisenotizen über Prag. Aus Briefen von Cäcilia, in: Journal für Literatur, Kunst, Luxus und Mode 38 (1823), No. 79, pp. 649–652; No.80, pp. 660–663; No. 83, pp. 682–684; No. 118, pp. 964–966; No. 119, pp. 970–973; No. 120, pp. 978 — 982; No.121, pp. 988–990 and 39 (1824), No. 70, pp. 554–557; No. 71, pp. 562–564; No.72, pp. 570–573; No. 73, pp. 577–580. 2 Ibid., 38 (1823), No. 79, p. 651. 8 WISOHIM/ESHP 19 to a community and it promotes its unity.3 Similarly to identities, collective memories are approached through their constructivist character and their dependence on symbols embedded in narratives, rituals, images and places.4 In historical perspective, collective identity is supported by the knowledge of a shared past and shared understanding of history reflected in the individual and the collective historical consciousness.5 When incorporated in collective memory the geographical sites acquire a significant meaning. It is the collective memory that “contributes to peoples’ material and symbolic understanding of place through shared knowledges of buildings, streets, historical events, and other particularities of the place”.6 Considering the constructivist nature of collective remembrance, the understanding of places varies in time and is dependent on dominant narratives in a community.7 The same principle applies to historical meanings and interpretations ascribed to geographical places. They are also subject to change and though set in the past, their importance and perception is always determined by the demands of the present.8 One of the attractions of travelling is to visit places of historical significance. Though the encounter with historical sites does not create a universal form of response in all travellers, it evokes similar memories in those who share the same historical knowledge and are able to set it in the same interpretative framework.9 3 Jan Assmann, Collective Memory and Cultural Identity, New German Critique, No. 65, 1995, pp. 125–133, here p. 130. 4 Aleida Assmann, Der lange Schatten der Vergangenheit: Erinnerungskultur und Geschichtspolitik, München 2006, S. 21–31. 5 On historical consciousness, see, for example, Christian Emden — David Midgley (eds.), Cultural Memory and Historical Consciousness in the German-Speaking World Since 1500, Bern 2004; Peter Seixas (ed.), Theorizing Historical Consciousness, Toronto — Buffalo — London 2004; Eric Langenbacher — Yossi Shain (eds.), Power and the Past: Collective Memory and International Relations, Washington, D. C. 2010. 6 Kelly Baker, Identity, Memory and Place, The Word Hoard 1, 2012, Iss. 1, Article 4, S. 26; available at http://ir.lib.uwo.ca/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1003&context=wordhoard (15. 10. 2013). 7 On the interplay of space, place and identity, see, for example, David Harvey, From Space to Place and Back Again: Reflections on the Condition of Postmodernity. In: John Bird — Barry Curtis — Tim Putnam (eds.), Mapping the Futures: Local Cultures, Global Change, London 1993; Anssi Paasi, Territories, Boundaries and Consciousness. The Changing Geographies of the Finnish–Russian border, Chichester — New York 1996; Jörg Döring — Tristan Thielmann, Spatial Turn. Das Raumparadigma in den Kulturund Sozialwissenschaften, Bielefed 2008. 8 A. Assmann, p. 16. 9 On the interpretation of travellers’s experience and travel literature, see, for example, Antoni Mączak — Hans Jürgen Teuteberg (eds.), Reiseberichte als Quellen europäischer Kulturgeschichte. Aufgaben und Möglichkeiten der historischen Reiseforschung, (Wolfenbütteler Forschungen 21), Wolfenbüttel 1982; Peter J. Brenner, Reisebericht in der deutschen Literatur. Ein Forschungsüberblick als Vorstudie zu einer Gattungsgeschichte, Tübingen 1990; Arndt Bauerkämper — Hans Erich Bödeker — Berenhard Struck (eds.), MartIna POWEr 9 Taking into account the connection between collective memory and collective identity, the present article examines the historical memories of travellers from German states who visited Bohemia in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. It assesses their interpretations of historical sites and historical events; and it considers the role played by historical memory in promotion of collective identity. Focusing on the period of one hundred years between 1750 and 1850 allows us to analyse the transformation of historical memories and to study it in the context of emerging national identities. Consequently, the article explores the possible tendencies of the travellers and authors of the travel literature to set the separate historical remembrances in a broader interpretative framework of a collective (e.g. national) historical narrative. “REISEZIEL BÖHMEN”: GERMAN TRAVELLERS IN BOHEMIA BETWEEN 1750 AND 1850 The mid-eighteenth century witnessed an important social change in travelling. Throughout the early modern period it was especially the nobility who had the means and leisure to spend long months on tours through famous Italian and French towns. However, this monopoly was disrupted during the eighteenth century and the gradual growth of a railway network in the first half of the nineteenth century made travelling accessible to a greater part of population. By the mid-nineteenth century most travellers were middle-class men (and also women), who often published accounts of their travel experience.10 For most of the later eighteenth century Bohemia was comparatively neglected as a destination for travellers.11 Unlike France or Italy, it was a transit place visited mainly as a stop on a longer journey through central European countries. The only exceptions were the spa towns in western and northwestern Bohemia among which Karlovy Vary (Karslbad) attracted guests from all over Europe. However, the outbreak of wars with revolutionary France limited the travel across the continent and travDie Welt erfahren: Reisen als kulturelle Begegnung von 1780 bis heute, Frankfurt am Main 2004; Tilman Fischer, Reiseziel England: ein Beitrag zur Poetik der Reisebeschreibung und zur Topik der Moderne (1830–1870), (Philologische Studien und Quellen 184), Berlin 2004; Glenn Hooper — Tim Youngs (eds.), Perspectives on Travel Writing, Aldershot 2004; Bernhard Struck, Nicht West — nicht Ost. Frankreich und Polen in der Wahrnehmung deutscher Reisender zwischen 1750 und 1850, Göttingen 2006. 10 On the transformation of travel in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, see, for example, Klaus Beyrer, Die Postkutschenreise, Tübingen 1985; Antoni Mączak, Travel in Early Modern Europe, Cambridge 1995; Milan Hlavačka Milan, Cestování v éře dostavníku, Praha 1996 and Dějiny dopravy v českých zemích v období průmyslové revoluce, Praha 1990. 11 On detailed analyses of Bohemia as a travel destination and on sociocultural profile of the German travellers to Bohemia, see Martina Power, Hory a moře mezi „námi“. Vnímání hranic a prostoru v německé a britské cestopisné literatuře o Čechách a Irsku (1750–1850), Praha 2013 (Forthcoming). 10 WISOHIM/ESHP 19 ellers were forced to seek a replacement for the popular French and Italian resorts. Patriotism and practical reasons encouraged many of them to explore the less known parts of their fatherland and to look for closer and more accessible destinations. The growing interest in such regions inspired travellers from German territorial states to tour Bohemia. With the increasing number of German visitors not only steadily popular Karlovy Vary but also other places (such as Prague and the mountainous border regions) became part of travellers’ itineraries. The routes adopted by travellers were in many respects predetermined. Their choice depended on the existing network of roads, stagecoach lines and railways. As a transit destination Bohemia was most often visited during a more extensive journey from Dresden to Vienna, passing the towns of Ústí nad Labem (Aussig), Lovosice (Lobositz), Velvary (Welwarn), Prague, Kolín (Kolin), Čáslav (Czaslau), Havlíčkův Brod (Deutschbrod) and Znojmo (Znaim). To travel from Prague to Austrian capital, travellers could choose also the road via Tábor (Tabor) and České Budějovice (Budweis) to Linz. For visitors from Prussia the most popular route included Frýdlant (Friedland), Liberec (Reichenberg), Mladá Boleslav (Jungbunzlau), Stará Boleslav (Altbunzlau) to Prague; and those travelling from Bavaria took the rout via Cheb (Eger) and Plzeň (Pilsen) to Prague. The limited choice of travel routes affected also the possibility of sightseeing and reduced the individuality of travellers’ experience. Yet the perception of visited places depends rather on the observer than on their actual physical appearance. To interpret the travellers’ descriptions and evaluations it is therefore necessary to analyse also their attitudes, values and sociocultural profiles. Owing to the general social transformation of travel, most of the German travellers who between 1750 and 1850 visited Bohemia and published their travel accounts belonged to the middle class. Though the majority came from the neighbouring states (mostly Saxony and Prussia), some were of a more distant geographical origin (such as those from Braunschweig or Holstein). Many had a university education that they acquired usually at the northern German universities in Göttingen, Halle or Leipzig. Representing the so-called Bildungbürgertum, the travellers were well acquainted with the contemporary state of learning and were able to set their individual travel experience in a broader context of general knowledge. As suggested by their geographical origin and places of education, most of them identified with the cultural region of the northern German Protestant states. Considering their sociocultural profile, the travellers formed relatively homogenous group. It remains to be established whether this group shared also the same historical consciousness. PRAGUE MYTHS AND LEGENDS IN THE SECOND HALF OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY The neglect of Bohemia as a travel destination lasting till the late eighteenth century went hand in hand with a low interest in its history. The only account of Bohemia’s main historical events given in German travel literature of the mid-eighteenth century was contained in the account of Johann Georg Keyßler’s description of his MartIna POWEr 11 journey through the German states, Bohemia, Hungary and Switzerland (1741).12 Keyßler’s travelogue (which in style resembled an encyclopaedia) introduced the history of Bohemia in the section dedicated to the description of Prague. While passing the most important sights in the capital, Keyßler unfolded the history of the whole country. Keyßler pointed out the site of the Defenestration of Prague in 1618, and highlighted the position of the two monuments erected to commemorate the survival of the imperial regents thrown from the window. Crossing the bridge over the river Vltava, he paid attention to the statue of John of Nepomuk and the crowds of people kneeling in front of it. Nepomuk was introduced as the legendary confessor of the wife of Wenceslaus IV. Though pressed by the king, Nepomuk preserved the queen’s Seal of Confession and was punished by drowning in the Vltava. Corresponding to the manner of his martyrdom, Nepomuk became the patron saint of the bridges and Keyßler predicted that in a few years time it would be impossible to find in Bohemia a bridge without his statue. To document Nepomuk’s enormous popularity among the Catholic population of Austrian monarchy, Keyßler commented on the commercial success of prints sold in 1724 after the pregnancy of the empress Elizabeth Christine had been announced. Conveying the wish for a male heir and the absolute belief in the saint’s power, the print pictured Nepomuk bringing a newborn prince down from the clouds. A short eulogizing verse accompanied the whole scene: „Seht doch der heilige Nepomuc. Macht hier ein treflich Meisterstuck.“ Despite failing to secure the male heir in the reigning Habsburg family (princess Maria Amalia was born in 1724), John of Nepomuk was canonized in 1729 and it was Keyßler’s belief that Bohemia had to spend a considerable sum of money to defend Nepomuk’s cause in Rome.13 Continuing to the Old Town Square, Keyßler pointed out the bridge tower with a Latin inscription commemorating the fight of Prague citizens and students with the Swedish soldiers in 1648. In the Old Town, he led his readers through the Jesuit College in Klementinum, across the Old Town Square to the Church of Our Lady in front of Týn. Both places were connected with the life of Danish mathematician and astronomer Tycho de Brahe, whose tomb in Týn Church was among the most popular visitor attractions. Keyßler’s visit to Prague ended at Vyšehrad where he reflected on the local legends. The first explained the presence of three broken columns that at the time stood at the Church of SS Peter and Paul. The columns were dropped here by the devil that lost his wager with the local priest. The second “laughable” legend concerned the 12 Johann Georg Keyssler, Neuste Reisen durch Teutschland, Böhmen, Ungarn, die Schweitz, Italien und Lothringen, worinn der Zustand und dass Merkwürdigste dieser Länder beschrieben und vermittelst der natürlichen, gelehrten und politischen Geschichte […] erläutert wird, 2 vols., Hannover 1740–1741. 13 Ibid. [2nd edition: Hannover 1751], 2. vol., S. 1288. 12 WISOHIM/ESHP 19 sandstone sarcophagus that was said to belong to St. Longinus, a Roman centurion who pierced Jesus in his side by a spear. According to the legend the body of St. Longinus arrived to Vyšehrad on the river Vltava in the stone sarcophagus that served as a boat. The incredibility of this story was in Keyßler’s opinion matched only by the Russian legend about St. Nicholas who was believed to arrive to Russia across the sea on a millstone. The Vyšehrad legends about duchess Libussa and the squire Horymír whose life was saved by his fateful horse Šemík were similarly condemned and the fact that they lived on not only in the popular imagination but also in scholarly works was considered to be most disturbing. As a whole, Keyßler considered the population in Bohemia to be extremely superstitious and credulous, even in comparison to the Catholics in other countries. He found it difficult to believe that “not such a long time ago Bohemia professed a religious tolerance and the ancestors of present inhabitants were mainly Protestants”.14 In general, Keyßler’s attitude to Bohemia’s and Prague’s history was rather detached. He introduced it largely as a mixture of myths, legends and Catholic superstitions, making only a few points of reference with which he and his readers could identify. These points included the Thirty Years War, whose beginning and end were marked by Prague events, and the personality of Tycho Brahe, whose merit as a scientist was well appreciated by the Enlightened German travellers.15 Keyßler’s travelogue was a great commercial success and between 1740 and 1774 it was published in several editions.16 The section about Prague served for most of the second half of the eighteenth century as both the travel guide for further visitors and the template for subsequent descriptions of local sights and history.17 The perception of Prague changed only in the early nineteenth century when both its historicity and mythology became more appreciated. REMEMBERING FAMOUS HISTORICAL PERSONALITIES The historical figure that in the second half of the eighteenth century attracted the biggest attention among the German visitors to Bohemia was undoubtedly John of Nepomuk. Already after entering Bohemia the Protestant travellers were astonished to see the number of religious statues and images. Braunschweig medical doctor Franz Hyronimus Brückmann who travelled to Karlovy Vary in 1784 made following observation immediately after crossing the boundary between Saxony and Bohe14 Ibid., S. 1296–1297. 15 Karl Gottlob Küttner, Reise durch Deutschland, Dänemark, Schweden, Norwegen und einen Theil von Italien, in den Jahren 1797. 1798. 1799, 4 vols., Leipzig 1804, here 3. vol., S. 94–95. 16 Winfried Siebers, Johann Georg Keyssler und die Reisbeschreibung der Frühaufklärung, Würzburg 2009, S. 33. 17 Johann Peter Willebrand, Des Herrn Justizrath Johann Peter Willebrand historische Berichte und practische Anmerkungen auf Reisen in Deutschland. Neue vermehrte u. verbesserte Aufl., Leipzig 1769, S. 308. MartIna POWEr 13 mia: „Vorher habe ich noch dies zu sagen, sobald man in Böhmen fährt, sieht man fast überall den heiligen Nepomuk als den bekannten Schutzpatron dieses Reiches, den Heiland am Kreuß, die heilige Maria, und eine Menge andere Heilige, oder auch nur hölzerne Stangen (wo vermuthlich die Heiligen sich aus Unwillen vor dem üblen Wetter zur Erde herabgelassen haben) auf eine traurige Art, und so erbärmlich auf Holz gemalt, oder geschnitzelt, paradiren.“ The majority of the travellers accepted Nepomuk as the unfortunate confessor of the queen who was tortured to death by King Wenceslaus IV, and who had become in recent years the “protective god” of Bohemia.18 Fresh and more detailed information was revealed only in the travelogue Ausführliche Nachrichten über Böhmen (1794) by the Prussian army doctor and writer Johann Joseph Kausch, who drew extensively from the work of Bohemian scholars such as the priest, historian and geographer Jaroslaus Schaller, and the professor of law at the university in Prague, Josef Anton Riegger.19 Like other visitors to Bohemia, Kausch was overwhelmed by the omnipresent statues and symbols associated with the cult of John of Nepomuk. However, Kausch’s knowledge of the latest historiography gave him an opportunity to go deeper than simply relate the traditional legend about the Seal of Confession. Citing the treatises by Jaroslaus Schaller, Ignatz Cornova, Gelasius Dobner and Frantz Pubitschka, he touched on the contemporary discussion on Nepomuk’s life and legend.20 He favoured the version supported by Schaller who considered the story of queen’s confession as a mere fable. He believed that John of Pomuck was the vicargeneral tortured and thrown in the Vltava by servants of Wenceslaus IV in 1393 for taking the side of the archbishop of Prague in a conflict between the king and the archbishop over appointing a new abbot in the abbey of Kladruby. Kausch also introduced the version advocated by the piarist monk and historian Gelasius Dobner who regarded John of Nepomuk as both the vicar-general and the martyr guarding the Seal of Confession as well as the version defended by historian Franz Pubitschka who believed in the existence of two Johns of Nepomuk punished by king Wenceslaus — the queen’s confessor in 1383 and the defender of the authority of the archbishop in 1393.21 The reason why Kausch acquainted his readers with the contemporary debate on Nepomuk was not only to inform them about the life of the saint whose statues they would meet almost everywhere if they decided to visit Bohemia: he also tried to correct the opinion of many Protestant scholars about the low state of learning among their Catholic counterparts. By pointing to the debate he presented the Bohemian historians (who were often Catholic clerics) as “practised in liberal arts and capable of critical historical thinking”.22 The signs of Nepomuk’s cult (especially his lavishly decorated silver tomb in St Vitus Cathedral) did not cease to astonish and sometimes irritate the Protestant travellers. Yet, their awareness of both the fictitious character 18 Keyssler, S. 1288. 19 Johann Joseph Kausch, Ausführliche Nachrichte über Böhmen, Salzburg 1794. 20 On further information about Nepomuk’s life, legend and cononization see Vít Vlnas, Jan Nepomucký, česká legenda, Praha 1993. 21 Kausch, S. 229–231. 22 Ibid., S. 232. 14 WISOHIM/ESHP 19 of the queen’s confessor and the real existence of the vicar-general increased and from the turn of the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries they began to accept John of Nepomuk not as a mere Catholic fabrication but also as a historic figure.23 Apart from John of Nepomuk, the German travellers paid only slight attention to personalities of Bohemian history. Those who visited Karlovy Vary noted its foundation by the emperor Charles IV. However, they were more interested in the legend that described Charles discovering the mineral springs during a stag hunt in the local forest than in his historical credit as an emperor.24 Again the only exception was Johann Kausch who commented on the different perception of Charles IV in Bohemia and in the Holy Roman Empire. While he appreciated the importance and impact of Charles’ reign in Bohemia, he criticized the emperor’s excessive religiosity and his lack of interest in the welfare of the empire.25 The situation changed at the end of the eighteenth century when the German travellers discovered a new source of interest. Visits to Cheb (Eger) in western Bohemia, Friedland castle in northern Bohemia and Prague’s Little Quarter became readily associated with remembrance of the leader of the imperial army in the Thirty Years War, Albrecht of Wallenstein. In Cheb the travellers were drawn to the town hall where Wallenstein was assassinated in 1634. Here they admired the halberd with which he was supposedly killed and his portrait (by Anthonis van Dyck) that hung next to the images of Habsburg emperors. According to Saxon lawyer and poet Karl Fridrich Kretschmann, who visited Eger in 1797, Wallenstein’s portrait simply radiated his strong personality and iron will: „Welch ein Mann! Welch ein Blick, mit dem er auf die an der Wand befestigten Abschilderungen der Leopolde, Josephe, Karle, herabsieht, die, in ihrem vollen Königsprunke gemahlt, wundersam gegen jenen eisernen Mann abstechen.“26 Visitors to Friedland castle, bought by Wallenstein in 1622, were similarly impressed. The castle gallery also provided a portrait of Wallenstein (by Christian Kaulfersch) that displayed yet another side of his personality — the obsession with astrology.27 The significance of places associated with life of Wallenstein increased especially after the publication of the trilogy of dramas Wallensteins Lager, Die Piccolomini and 23 Johann Nikolaus Becker, Fragmente aus dem Tagebuche eines reisenden Neu-Franken. Nach der Erstausgabe von 1798 neu herausgegeben und mit einem Nachwort und Erläuterungen versehen von Wolfgang Griep, Bremen 1985, S. 117; Gottfried Daniel Stein, Reise durch Sachsen, Böhmen, Mähren nach Wien und Schlesien, so wie die Donaureise von Ulm bis Preßburg, Leipzig 1828, S. 113–115. 24 Friedrich Christoph Joachim Schulz, Reise eines Liefländers von Riga nach Warschau, durch Südpreußen, über Breslau, Dresden, Karlsbad, Bayreuth, Nürnberg, Regensburg, München, Salzburg, Linz, Wien und Klagenfurt, nach Botzen in Tyrol, 7 vols., Berlin 1795–1796, here 5. vol., S. 57. 25 Kausch, S. 10–11. 26 Karl Fridrich Kretschmann, Reise nach den Badeörtern Karlsbad, Eger und Töplitz, im Jahr 1797. In Briefen, Leipzig 1798, S. 243. 27 Friedrich Albert Krug von Nidda, Lokal-Umrisse kleiner Reisen von Friedrich Krug v. Nidda, 2 vols., Halle 1825–1826, here 1. vol., S. 18–19. MartIna POWEr 15 Wallensteins Tod by Friedrich Schiller. The importance of Schiller’s work for the revival of Wallenstein’s fame is undeniable. According to Leopold Ranke Schiller became Wallenstein’s Homer and it was Schiller who brought Wallenstein’s long forgotten fate back to life.28 The response to the drama is apparent also in the German travelogues. Bavarian lawyer Christian Müller, who visited Bohemia in 1812, recalled scenes from the trilogy while he travelled from Lovosice to Prague through flat countryside that did not offer many opportunities for sightseeing: „Nun ging es auf der immer sanft aufwärtslaufenden Ebene lustig gegen Prag. Bilder aus Wallenstein und Piccolomini machten mir den langweiligen Weg auf der endlosen Fläche zur interessantesten Bühne, auf der eine Gestalt nach der andern lebend hervortrat und die lieben, vertrauten Worte des Dichters sprach.“29 Schiller’s tragedy affected also Julius Fischer who spent several days in Prague in 1801. He stood for a long time in a deep contemplation in front of Wallenstein palace in Little Quarter reflecting on Wallenstein’s military abilities, pride and lack of political judgment that brought on him the death of a rebel.30 Though Schiller’s literary work promoted the interest in Wallenstein and turned Cheb and Friedland into increasingly visited places of memory, the outcome of encountering the real setting of historical events was not always satisfactory. Bavarian liberal journalist Friedrich Mayer visited the town hall in Cheb during his journey through the Austrian monarchy in 1830s. He was deeply disappointed by the appearance of the scene of the tragedy, which differed significantly from the picture drawn by his imagination from reading Schiller. The first floor of the town hall was rather dark and it was just possible to fantasize about the “terrible act”. Yet, the rooms on the second floor where very bright and modern, with one of them featuring a cage with singing canary and a lap dog on a sofa, making it impossible for Mayer to experience the atmosphere of the murder: „Durch diesen Besuch verlor ich ein gutes Stück romantischer Stimmung, der lange Corridor und die hohen, gewölbten Säle meiner Imagination schrumpften zu einem modernen Boudoir ein, an der historischen Wahrheit giengen Schiller’s poetische Situationen zu Grunde.“31 Schiller’s Wallenstein was not the only literary work that promoted the popularity of a certain historical figure. Franz Grillparzer’s drama König Ottokars Glück und Ende (written in 1823) had a similar impact (though admittedly to a lesser extent). Although Grillparzer was loose with his historical facts, his play helped to focus attention on the personality of Ottokar II. Reminiscences were kindled especially by the visit of the burial place of Bohemian kings in St. Vitus Cathedral. Impressed by 28 Steffan Davies, The Wallenstein Figure in German Literature and Historiography 1790–1920, London 2009, S. 1. See also Josef Pekař, Valdštejn 1630–1634. Dějiny vald štejnské ho spiknutí, 2 vols., Praha 1933–1934, here 1. vol., 1933, p. 22. 29 Christian Müller, Reise vom Berlin nach Paris im Jahre 1812 durch Preußen, Sachsen, Oestreich, Baiern, Würtemberg und die Rheinlande. In Briefen, Mainz 1815, S. 315. 30 Julius Wilhelm Fischer, Reisen durch Oesterreich, Ungarn, Steyermark, Venedig, Böhmen und Mähren, in den Jahren 1801 und 1802, 3 vols., Wien 1803, here 3. vol., S. 85–87. 31 Friedrich Mayer, Wanderleben in Bayern, Oberund Unterösterreich, Ungarn, Mähren und Böhmen, 2 vols., Nürnberg 1838, here 2. vol., S. 361–362. 22 WISOHIM/ESHP 19 the German visitors found only a few traces of historical memories which they could share. Sites associated with the Thirty Years War (such as Prague Castle) or the personality of Tycho de Brahe (such as Týn Church) were, therefore, among the main attractions. Enthusiasm for the history of Bohemia increased at the turn of the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries, especially due to the influence of literature, such as Schiller’s Wallenstein trilogy. These texts were at the time read by whole intellectual elite (to which the travellers belonged) and formed their historic consciousness. Of even more importance was the general transformation of the German relationship to Bohemia. In the first decades of the nineteenth century Bohemia became increasingly perceived as a legitimate part of the German territory and therefore its history needed to be set in a broader interpretative framework. While touring historical sites, the travellers found enough material to stress the close connection between Bohemian and German history. The battlefields of the Seven Years War and the Napoleonic wars were important evidence of a shared past. However, in the context of a rising Czech national movement that produced its own version of Bohemian history, the German claim over the history of Bohemia was seriously challenged. As suggested also by the contested perceptions of Prague, its history — as well as the whole history of Bohemia — was becoming a field of conflict rather than coexistence.