Křivoklát Castle

Listen first. Under your feet the cobbles are uneven and worn smooth, and the air smells of damp stone and pine. Around you the forest rolls away in every direction, dark green and deep. Somewhere below, a stream runs over rocks. This is Křivoklát Castle. It sits on a rocky ridge above the forests of Central Bohemia, and for centuries kings came here for one reason above all others — the hunt.

The woods you can see from the walls are the Křivoklátsko region. Today it is a protected landscape area and a UNESCO biosphere reserve. In the Middle Ages these forests belonged to the Czech crown. They were full of deer, wild boar and game birds. The Přemyslid dynasty, the first royal family of Bohemia, built a hunting seat here. Over time that hunting seat grew into the stone fortress around you.

Take a moment to look at the shape of the castle. It is not a neat square. The buildings follow the line of the rock, so the plan forms a rough triangle. On one side stands a massive round tower. On the other, the royal palace with its tall roofs. Between them is a sequence of gates and courtyards. Each gate was another obstacle for an attacker, and another moment of ceremony for a royal guest.

Here is a detail many visitors miss. One of the most famous rulers in Czech history spent part of his childhood here, and it was not a happy time. The future Emperor Charles the Fourth was taken from his mother as a very young boy. His father, King John of Luxembourg, did not trust her. For a period the child was kept at Křivoklát, far from Prague. Later in life Charles wrote about this time in his own autobiography.

Charles came back as an adult, and he brought his young French wife, Blanche of Valois. She lived at the castle for some time, and a daughter was born to the couple here. So these walls held both a lonely child and, years later, a young family. Locals also tell a story about ravens at Křivoklát and the boy Charles. It is a legend, not a record, but it explains why some people still connect these black birds with the castle.

Much of what you see today belongs to a later age. At the end of the fifteenth century, King Vladislaus the Second of the Jagiellon dynasty ordered a large rebuilding. His masons worked in the late Gothic style — the final phase of medieval architecture, with ribbed vaults and slender stone tracery. Look carefully at the stonework as you go. Vladislaus marked his projects with his initial, a carved letter W, and you can find it in the castle.

The heart of the palace is the Royal Hall. When you walk in, look up. The vault spreads above you in a net of stone ribs. This is one of the largest Gothic halls in the Czech lands. Only the great Vladislav Hall at Prague Castle is bigger, and it comes from the same king and the same period. Imagine the hall lit by torches, warm with people, after a long day in the forest.

Next to the palace is the castle chapel, and many visitors say it is the best room in the building. The vault is late Gothic, light and elegant. The altar is carved wood, with figures of saints and delicate details. The colours and gilding catch the light from the windows. Take your time here. Small faces and hands appear in the carving that are easy to miss at first.

Now the darker side of the story. A castle this remote was also a good prison. Over the centuries, the crown sent political and religious prisoners here. One of the best known was Jan Augusta, a bishop of the Unity of Brethren, a Protestant church in Bohemia. He was held in the great tower for many years. Another prisoner was Edward Kelley, an English alchemist who worked at the court of Emperor Rudolf the Second in Prague.

Kelley's story is one of the strange ones. He promised the emperor gold, and for a time he lived in luxury. Then he fell from favour and ended up behind these walls. Stories about his time in prison and his attempts to escape grew over the years. Some of the details are certainly legend. But the basic fact is real — the alchemist from Rudolf's court lost his freedom here, in the forests of Bohemia.

The castle also suffered from fire more than once. Each fire destroyed roofs and interiors, and each time someone had to decide what to rebuild. From the eighteenth century the castle belonged to the noble Fürstenberg family. In the nineteenth century they funded a major restoration in a romantic spirit, when Europe was rediscovering its medieval past. In the twentieth century the castle passed to the Czechoslovak state. Today it is a national monument open to visitors.

As you walk the tour, notice how the rooms change in character. Some halls feel royal and open. Others are small and practical, with thick walls and deep window seats. The castle library and the collections of the Fürstenbergs show the life of a noble family in more recent times. In the lower spaces, an exhibition of historical instruments of punishment reminds you that this was also a place of justice and fear.

Before you leave, walk to a point where you can see out over the trees. The forest looks almost the same as it did when kings rode out from these gates. The stream still runs below. The wind still moves the tops of the pines. Stand still for a moment. Listen to the birds above the walls, feel the stone under your hand, and take this quiet view with you as you walk back down the hill.