The Will To Control – The Austrians Reimagine Lviv’s Rynok Square (Lviv: The History of One City Part 34)

Austrian architecture and culture is often equated with magnificence. Anyone who visits Vienna cannot help but marvel at its many beautiful Baroque buildings, the grandeur of the Hofburg palace, the exquisite culture that gave the world Mozart and Strauss. An air of refinement is pervasive. Conversely, Austrian rule was something altogether different, especially on the empire’s fringes during the 18th and 19th centuries. There was a rage for standardization and control, the imposition of imperial culture, all in the name of civilization. Austrian officials believed it was their mission to bring order and structure to Eastern Europe, no matter the cost in human or financial terms. This was especially true in the newly acquired province of Galicia, which was annexed following the first partition of Poland in 1772. The Austrian rage for order can be understood in the changes that Habsburg rule brought to Lviv (Lemberg in German). This happened most prominently in Rynok Square during the decades after the Austrians took control of the city.

Zukhorovychivska Townhouse at 40 Rynok Square

Zukhorovychivska Townhouse at 40 Rynok Square (Credit: Aeou)

The Will To Create Versus The Will To Power
Today the buildings on the northern side of Rynok Square are lively and colorful, they add to the festive atmosphere of the square. It is hard to believe that by the mid-18th century most of these buildings were in various states of disrepair, with many abandoned and several on the verge of collapse. Then the Austrians took charge, bringing a much needed boost in new ideas. Slowly the northern side came to back life. An architectural rebirth with the Baroque style began to take hold. Take for instance the building at Rynok 40, known as the Zukhorovychivska Townhouse. In 1771, a year before the onset of Austrian rule, the house was bought by a postmaster named Anton Dejma. The following year, a reconstruction of the townhouse took place, updating it with Baroque architectural elements. Four doors down at the Boczkowiczowska Townhouse at Rynok 44, another Baroque restyling got under way in the early 1770’s. This took place after one of the richest men in Lviv, a physician by the name of Boczkowicz, bought the townhouse. These badly needed upgrades helped revive the square’s northern side, but it would be wrong to assume that the Austrian inspired architectural revival was always a shower of festive enlightenment.

The will to control was greater than the will to create when it came to Austrian power in Lviv. The tendency toward standardization influenced the very color of the buildings on Rynok Square. Those brightly painted facades that exist today on the northern side of the square are a throwback to medieval Lviv, when each building had its very own color. This trend was known as Lviv Polychromy. The Austrian administrators banned this aesthetic sensibility and required that all the facades be painted in a dull gray color. The point was to change the look and feel of the city from its former Polish dominated self to a “civilized” Austrian one. Today, this kind of domineering standardization is more associated with Lviv’s Soviet era, but though their ideologies greatly differed, both empires shared an urge to impose their will on many aspects of the city’s look and feel.

Adonis Statue at Rynok Square

Adonis Statue on the northwestern side of Rynok Square (Credit: Jan Mehlich)

It Is Nothing Special – The Austrian Rage For Order
Trends change and so do empires. Unlike the Soviet era which only lasted forty-nine years in Lviv, the Austrian period was three times as long. At nearly one-hundred and fifty years, this time span meant that the dynamic influences of changing artistic and architectural movements such as Neo-Classicism could take hold in the empire. Such trends made their way to Lviv and were showcased in Rynok Square. A series of sculptures featuring classical mythological figures and elegant fountains were installed there in 1815. They adorned the same exact places that the square’s wells had been located. The limestone sculptures allegorically portrayed Diana and Adonis representing earth, and Neptune and Amphitrite representing water. The Imperial Austrians were aligning themselves with the classical world. They saw themselves as the modern version of a higher form of western civilization. This was to be shared or some might say imposed upon the most far flung provincial cities of the empire such as Lviv.

The saying that every crisis is an opportunity aptly describes the cosmetic surgery Austrians did at the heart of Lviv. The Austrians took full advantage of the greatest disaster Rynok Square experienced in the 19th century to give it a transformative makeover, one that continues to inform how Lviv’s most important public space is seen and experienced today.  On a mid-summer’s day in 1826, the Rathaus, (the German word for Town Hall) collapsed. The most important building in the city was destroyed. The nerve center of the Austrian administration had to be rebuilt. The next iteration would be reimagined in an imperious and imposing style. Today, locals in Lviv often refer to the Ratusha (the Ukrainian word for Town Hall) as “a huge and hideous chimney.” As a friend of mine, a native of Lviv, once told me while pointing out the Town Hall (Ratusha in Ukrainian), “it is nothing special.” Architecturally speaking that is true, but Austrian officials were thinking in terms of administration, rather than aesthetics.

The Rathaus was and still is today an embodiment of Imperial Austrian bureaucratic architecture. The construction took eight years, which is not all that surprising since the building contains 156 rooms and 9 meeting halls. Each of its four sides have symmetrical façades. Its square tower, like the rest of the structure, has little to recommend it from an aesthetic viewpoint. The building was meant to be big, not bold, to be functional, not fashionable and act as a symbol of Austrian authority. It did all of these things rather well, a triumph of substance over style.  The construction of the new Rathaus also meant a reconfiguring of the area surrounding it. Houses that had once stood close to the northern side of the old City Hall were leveled as was the square itself. New cobblestones were laid. Rynok Square was now more manageable, more controlled. To the Austrians, order had been made from chaos. The square was now a civilized public space.

Lviv's Ratusha (Town Hall)

“That Huge Hideous Chimney” – Lviv’s Ratusha (Town Hall) (Credit: Oleksandr19)

The Austrianization of Rynok Square
The first Habsburg Emperor to visit Lviv was Joseph II in 1773. On August 1st he wrote his mother and co-ruler, the Empress Maria Theresa, a letter from Lviv in which he said “I already see in advance that the work will be immense here.” And so it was. It took the Austrians over sixty years before they finally got the look and feel they wanted in Rynok Square. By the 1830’s it had been brought into the early modern age and was now an imperial city at its heart. Rynok Square had become Austrianized, its look and feel has largely stayed that way ever since.

A Summer House In the Middle Of Paradise – Rynok Square’s Eastern Side (Lviv: The History of One City Part 32)

Rynok Square is the touristic heart of Lviv. In the spring, summer and fall it is packed with thousands of visitors. Most arrive by walking up from Katedralna Square, approaching the southwestern side of Ploscha Rynok. Visitors are magnetically attracted to the towering presence of the Ratusha (Town Hall). From there they begin strolling around the western and southern side of the square, but a much better place to start a walking tour is at Rynok Square’s northeastern corner, with a walk down the eastern side. Here can be found four magnificent palaces, the iconic Black House and history covering a wide swath of Lviv’s glorious Renaissance, imperial and nationalist pasts. When the 16th century German traveler Martin Gruneweg referred to Lviv as “a summer-house in the middle of paradise” he may well have had the Eastern side of Rynok Square in mind.

The Black House - Rynok 04

The Black House – Rynok 04 (Credit: Юрій Кононенко)

The Black House – Appearance of Deception
Looking at the buildings on the eastern side for the first time, there is a noticeable aesthetic symmetry, despite their differences in color, size and shape, as though the structures were meant to be a cohesive whole. Much of this has to do with the Renaissance architectural style that is common among them. The most eye catching structure stands at Rynok 4, the iconic Black House. After many centuries of exposure to the wind and rain, the building’s sandstone brick façade has turned a grayish, charcoal black. This gives it an ominous appearance, as though there might be a medieval torture chamber inside.  Historically it was a much happier place, at one time home to Lviv’s first pharmacy. The facade also displays a sculptural composition of St. Martin sharing his cloak with a beggar. Who would have thought that the Black House correlates with the ideals of charity and benevolence? A sublime and revealing benevolence. While the exterior facade is distinct, within its interior the Black House has much in common with several other buildings on the eastern side of the square. The Black House is home to a branch of the Lviv History Museum. Uniquely, the museum’s exhibits are located in several buildings centered around the square, including five on the eastern side.

Korniakt Palace in Lviv

Korniakt Palace in Lviv (Credit: Maciej Szczepańczyk)

The Korniakt Palace/Royal Townhouse – The Past Comes To Life
The most famous branch of the museum can be found within the Korniakt Palace/Royal Townhouse at Rynok 6.  The structure itself contains examples of nearly every building style found in Lviv prior to the 20th century. From the Gothic vaulted ceiling of the cellar to Baroque elements in the attic, the Renaissance and Empire styles on the façade and the grand splendor of the reconstructed neo-Renaissance Italian Courtyard, the palace is a veritable house of architectural history. Its human history is no less fascinating. This was once the home of Lviv’s richest man, the Greek trader Konstanty Korniakt, who moved to the city and made a fortune dealing in wine, cloth and fur. He had the palace constructed upon the foundations of two buildings, this accounts for the fact that there are six windows on each level of the structure, rather than the usual three to be found on most of the townhouses surrounding the square.

The palace was a place fit for royalty, quite literally as it came into the ownership of Jakub Sobieski, father of famed Polish King John III Sobieski whose military prowess helped defeat the Turks at the siege of Vienna in 1683. King John III inherited the palace and spent many days in the maze like rooms sprawling across all three floors. These recall the era of Polish royalty with palatial furnishings in the King’s and Queen’s rooms. The refined and stately decoration of the Audience Hall was where the controversial Eternal Peace Treaty of 1686 was signed between Russia and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. In return for Russia agreeing to join the anti-Ottoman Turk alliance, Poland ceded left bank Ukraine (east of the Dneiper River) along with the city of Kiev to Russia. Poland kept control of right bank Ukraine (west of the Dnieper River). Today, over three hundred years later, echoes of this division still resound, in the vast political and cultural differences between eastern and western Ukraine. Within the walls of the Audience Hall history becomes present and palpable.

Interior of former Archbishops Palace at Rynok 9

Living space – Interior of former Archbishops Palace at Rynok 9 (Credit: Aeou)

Former Archbishop’s Palace – A Poisoned Situation
Of the nine buildings that line the east side of Rynok Square, four are now residential, including the former Archbishop’s Palace at Rynok 9. With 68 rooms it is easy to see why the palace is now used as residences. Though the building was constructed during the Renaissance, its façade is covered with a rather bland neoclassical décor, a product of a mid-19th century reconstruction. Like the Korniakt Palace, the Archbishop’s Palace was also built on the foundations of two buildings, thus it also has six windows on each of its upper levels. While the architecture is interesting, the human stories that took place at the palace are nothing short of fascinating. This is a place where the past and present intersect in everyday life. Imagine what it must be like for those who make Rynok 9 their home today. An individual or family goes to bed each night in the same place where Polish Kings Sigismund III Vasa and Wladislaw IV once slept. Residences also inhabit the area where King Michael I was poisoned to death in 1673. This well planned conspiracy was carried out by his erstwhile supporters. It led to fatal food poisoning. After he died, King Michael’s remains were parceled out to places near and far with his heart buried in Warsaw, his body in Krakow’s Wawel Cathedral and his bowels within the walls of the nearby Latin Cathedral, a few hundred meters from where he had expired. What other tales, past and present, lurk within the walls of the former Archbishop’s Palace that might serve to stimulate the imagination.

Lubomirski Palace - Rynok 10

Lubomirski Palace – Rynok 10 (Credit: Kugel)

Lubomirski Palace – The Art of Possibility
The final building along the eastern side of Rynok Square is most certainly a product of the imagination. The Lubomirski Palace was where successive owners imagined and reimagined the palace for their own imperial, national or provincial needs. The palace’s namesake was a powerful Polish noble, Stanislaw Lubomirski. He commissioned a two decade long overhaul of the existing structure during the mid-18th century that recreated it as a Baroque magnate’s palace. The partition of Poland in 1772 changed the buildings history. For the next fifty years the palace served as a residence for the Austrian governors of Galicia.  In 1868 the Prosvita society was founded in Lviv to promote Ukrainian language and culture. Soon thereafter the Society purchased the palace where efforts were undertaken to raise Ukrainian national consciousness. Prosvita was a key player in the slow, fitful progression of Ukraine’s movement toward statehood. The movement reached a false summit on June 30, 1941 when at the former palace Yaroslav Stetsko proclaimed a Ukrainian state. It would soon be shut down by the Nazis. A new era of tyrannical totalitarianism would take hold. This was just the start as the Soviet would eventually occupy the city and attempt to transform its history, but Rynok Square’s architectural wonders would outlive another empire.

Eastern Side of Rynok Square

Looking down from the Ratusha (City Hall) at Eastern Side of Rynok Square (Credit: Jan Mehlich)

Bringing It Back To Life – Rynok Square
Ukrainians would have to wait until 1991 for an independent Ukraine. The nation is now home to the heritage symbolized and memorialized by the remarkable buildings that line the eastern side of Rynok Square.  Renaissance, Baroque and Neo-Classical architecture is alive in these structures, as are the stories of the multiple cultures that have infused Rynok Square with so much of its beauty and history.

The Things That Mattered Most – Baedeker’s Guide to 1911 Lemberg (Lviv: The History of One City: Part 22)

Baedeker, the name is still spoken with reverence when it comes to travel guides. Prior to the First World War, Baedeker’s travel guides were as much a part of European travel as steam locomotives. The guides acted as the go to source of information for legions of travelers. Kept readily at hand, they were unmatched in detail and breadth of coverage, a direct reflection of their characteristic meticulousness. As A. P. Herbert once said, “Kings and governments may err, but never Mr. Baedeker.” The founding father of the Baedeker guidebooks was Karl Baedeker, born at the turn of the 19th century in Essen, Germany. By his mid-twenties Baedeker was firmly ensconced in the world of book publishing. At the age of thirty-one, he bought a bankrupt publishing house. With this transaction he acquired the rights to a scholarly book that focused on the history and art of the Rhine region. Three years later, Baedeker published an update to this volume, adding practical information, such as the lodgings and restaurants in each city that were best suited to serve a traveler’s needs. Today this type of information can be found in almost every guidebook, in Baedeker’s day this was a path breaking innovation. At the time, no one imagined that he was just getting started.

Karl Baedeker

Karl Baedeker – the man who helped guided millions all over Europe

Touring Lemberg –  Guided By Baedeker
Through the latter half of the 19th century, Baedeker and his family published guidebooks covering much of Europe. The Baedeker brand benefited from being at the right place, at the right time. The 19th century brought the industrial revolution to the European mainland. This meant a growing middle class and mass travel by railroad which beget the birth of modern tourism. The whole of Europe was now within reach by rail travel for those with a good income. This included the multinational Austro-Hungarian Empire. In 1896 the Baedeker firm published its first guidebook covering the Empire, Austria : including Hungary, Transylvania, Dalmatia, and Bosnia; handbook for travelers. This included coverage of the far flung reaches of the empire including the province of Galicia, focusing on Lemberg (the German name for Lviv). Between 1896 and the outbreak of World War One, Baedeker’s would publish two more updates of this guidebook. The last one in 1911 was called Austria-Hungary : with excursions to Cetinje, Belgrade, and Bucharest ; handbook for travellers. It provides a fascinating glimpse of Austro-Hungarian Lemberg, a city that just a few years later would undergo a process of upheaval that would change it forever. Baedeker’s coverage of Lemberg in the 1911 guide was two pages in length and chock full of detailed information. An additional two pages was devoted to a map of the city center and its immediate surroundings.

Reading through the entry, it is hard not to notice that the city’s name is given in three languages, German, French and Polish. In retrospect, a specific omission stands out. The Ukrainian name of the city, Lviv, is nowhere to be found. The use of Polish place names is pervasive throughout the entry, befitting a city that at the time was dominated politically and culturally by Poles. A close study of the two page pullout map for Lemberg reveals that the city’s street and boulevards all had Polish and German language names. Svobody Prospekt, the Ukrainian name for the urban heart of the city today, was then known as Waly Hetmanskie. The Marien-Platz – a decidedly German name – which is right in front of the Hotel George, is now named Miskevchya Square. Though the name has been Ukrainianized it still recalls the fervently nationalistic Polish poet, Adam Mickiewicz. The first point of arrival in Lemberg, the central Railway Station, is termed the Hauptbahnhof. While the Polish translation of the name, Glowny dworzec, is listed directly below it in parenthesis. Five hotels are deemed worthy of a stay. This of course includes the famous Hotel George which can still be visited. Only one restaurant that was not part of a hotel is mentioned, the Stadtmuller which could be found on Ulica Krakowska (Krakow Street). The Stadtmuller no longer exists, but Ulica Krakowska does. The street’s name has been changed to the Ukrainian language Krakivska.

Postcard of fin de siècle Lemberg

Postcard of fin de siècle Lemberg

Shadows of the Past – Fin de siècle Lemberg
There are other differences between fin de siècle Lemberg and present day Lviv that are more noticeable and with hindsight quite shocking. The population is listed as 11% Jewish, a cumulative total of 22,700. Today Lviv’s Jewish population is about one-tenth that figure, though the city’s population has increased by 250% since 1911. The decline of the Jewish population is due almost entirely to the devastation wrought by the Holocaust. A visitor to the city in 1911 would have experienced a thriving Jewish presence in hotels, restaurants, markets, synagogues and street life. That has all since vanished. Baedeker’s also notes that the 11th Army Corps of the Imperial Army was headquartered in the city. That too disappeared, much of it lost in the surrounding countryside just three years later in the Battle of Galicia, a devastating defeat from which the empire never really recovered.

Reading Baedeker’s makes one realize that some things in the city have not changed. Among the major attractions listed are such famous religious buildings as the Roman Catholic Cathedral (Latin Cathedral), the Boimow Chapel (Boim Chapel), the Dominican, Armenian and Greek Catholic (St. George’s) Cathedrals. The Rathaus (Town Hall, now known in Ukrainian as the Ratusha) is also noted for “its tower 213 feet high – good survey of the town from the top.” Looking out from the pinnacle of the Rathaus at the skyline of the Old Town in 1911, a visitor would have much the same view as today. There are two present day attractions in Lviv that Baedeker’s did not deem worthy of mention for good reason. Lemberg’s famous Opera House was just over a decade old in 1911. Its newness was probably the reason that it was overlooked.

Baedeker's Guide to Austria-Hungary

Baedeker’s Guide to Austria-Hungary

The Ultimate Omission – Lemberg Without Ukrainians
The other notable absence concerns the famous Lychakiv Cemetery. The lone mention of Lycakov (Lychakiv in Ukrainian) comes as one of the city’s four main suburban distrcits. The cemetery is nowhere to be found. To understand this calls for a bit of historical context. The Lychakiv Cemetery of today is given much of its meaning by the loss of multi-cultural Lviv in the first half of the 20th century. In 1911 no one could envision that the city was on the cusp of multiple cataclysms that would wipe out almost all of its Polish, Jewish, German and Armenian citizens. Each one of these groups is mentioned in Baedeker’s 1911 Austria-Hungary guidebook entry for Lemberg. The only group missing happens to be the one that dominates the city today, the Ruthenians (as Ukrainians were then known). It turns out that Baedeker’s guidebooks were not as thorough as many believed.

Collapse & Creation By Committee – Lviv’s Ratusha: A City & Its Lost Symbols

It is a truism in government that if you want to avoid getting something done than form a committee. And so it was regarding the state of Lviv’s Ratusha (Town Hall) in 1826. In that year, there was concern that the Ratusha – which stood in the middle of Ploscha Rynok (Market Square) – suffered from structural problems. A committee was formed to study the problem, which they did with chilling incompetence. Like so many committees, they came to the conclusion that doing next to nothing was the preferred option. They even went so far as to proclaim that the Ratusha was in good enough shape to last another hundred years. They were soon proved deadly wrong.

Calamity – An Icon Comes Crashing Down
The committee’s lone recommendation involved opting for minor, superficial upgrades to the exterior, a sort of architectural beautification project. Unfortunately, adding decoration to the facade turned out not to be the answer for more critical problems. Once that decision was made, the committee then started to haggle over the cost of the proposed cosmetic surgery. These proceedings were suddenly interrupted by a town official who rushed in to the meeting and informed the committee that the Ratusha had just collapsed. Several people had been killed, including the city’s beloved bugler. Lemberg (the official name of the city during that time as it was under Austrian rule) was in shock. The committee looked foolish and self-serving.

Model of the Lemberg Town Hall as it looked in 1826

Model of the Lemberg Town Hall as it looked in 1826 at the time of its collapse                (Model: Lviv History Museum; Image: zobacz zasady)

It is both ironic and telling that the officials had chosen not to hold their meeting in the town hall, which subsequently collapsed. Perhaps they had their own doubts about the structure’s foundational weaknesses, if so, than they had been complicit in a crime of willful neglect. What had caused the collapse? The Ratusha was basically three different buildings of varying dimensions that had been fused together into one. This seemingly unwieldy, yet quite elegant design, included a tower that had been added in the previous century. At its tip was a crowned lion set atop a dome, the tower underneath had a gallery of eight pillars shaped like lions. It was this tower which collapsed sending nine stone lions, along with the rest of the tower crashing 58 meters (190 feet) on to the square. Following this cataclysm, the remaining part of the Ratusha was deemed beyond repair.

Lemberg Ratusha Collapses

An engraving of the Lemberg Ratusha’s Collapse in 1826

Monstrosity – A Huge & Hideous Chimney
The city officials in Lemberg were now tasked with the construction of a new Ratusha. Quite understandably public confidence in the city’s leadership was lacking at this point. It was here that another truism of government came into play, use a crisis as an opportunity. The city’s leadership took the opportunity to have the next Ratusha designed in a very different style than its predecessor. It took eight years to erect what was to be the new and supposedly improved town hall. Structurally the new building would turn out to be fine. After all it is still standing today, nearly two centuries later. Aesthetically though, the new Ratusha was lacking. Here was an opportunity to impose an Austrian influence upon the most celebrated public space in the city. The result was a huge structure of overbearing prominence at the center of the square, conspicuous by its girth rather than style.

The new Ratusha was done in Viennesse Classicist style, reflecting Austrian ideals. Soon citizens of Lemberg were heard to quip, that the new town hall was “a huge and hideous chimney.” Huge it was and still is today, with no less than nine floors and 146 rooms. The best that can still be said about its design is that it is really nothing special. Not good, not bad, just sort of there. Perhaps if the rest of Rynok Square and the historic center of Lemberg had not been so strikingly beautiful, no one would have much noticed. The best thing about the Ratusha as it stands today is the view from the top. After climbing an exhausting three hundred stairs, visitors get an incredible bird’s eye view of the city. It says something about the building’s aesthetics that it’s most memorable aspect comes from the top. There visitors are looking away from rather than at the building. From this vantage point, the Ratusha is hardly noticeable. Then again what would more could be expected from the same city leadership that had failed to anticipate the calamitous state of the previous Ratusha. They of course had been the main decision makers when it came to the new one.

Ratusha (Town Hall) in Lviv

Ratusha (Town Hall) in Lviv – locals once referred to it as a huge and hideous chimney (Credit: Lestat (Jan Mehlich) –

Sculptures Can Be Recreated – People & Personality Cannot
This version’s structural qualities have been problematic as well. In 1851, less than two decades after it had been erected, the new Ratusha’s clock tower collapsed. Fortunately, this did not mean the wholesale replacement of the entire structure. The clock tower was soon replaced. The newest version of the Ratusha has stood the test of time, as two World Wars, communism and fascism have failed to make much of a dent in the building. One of the nicer more noble adornments on the present Ratusha, are two lions holding shields set on each side of the entrance to the building. Having the lions only a few steps from the square ensures that there will be no repeat of lions crashing to their ruin, as happened one hundred eighty-eight years before. The lion is the symbol of Lviv and something of a legendary guardian of the city, but in this case the city has safeguarded its lions, at least those ones made of stone.

Lion holding a shield with the coat of arm of Lviv outside the Ratusha (Town Hall)

Lion holding a shield with the coat of arm of Lviv outside the Ratusha (Town Hall) –           (Credit: Бахтина Дарья)

The lions could be replicated in stone, but the flesh and blood bugler never returned to the Ratusha after the last one’s fatal fall in 1826. Historically the bugler’s role included watching the horizon from on high, in order to warn the city of any would be invaders. The bugler also kept watch for fires, sounding the alarm if one was spied. The bugler’s call had been part of the daily ritual of life, providing the sound of security each hour for decades on end. When the new Ratusha was completed, the bugler position was left vacant. As the years, turned into decades, the bugler was all but forgotten. Modernity made the bugler’s traditional role obsolete.

Lviv's Old Town as viewed from the tower at the top of the Ratusha (Town Hall)

Lviv’s Old Town as viewed from the tower at the top of the Ratusha (Town Hall)                 (Credit: Attila Varga)

Last Call of the Bugler – A City Loses A Symbol
In a sense the bugler was the last casualty of the fall of the old Ratusha. The bugler’s role was individual and superseded officialdom. The bugler never needed to form a committee while making split second decisions that might decide the life and death of the city. Instead a bugler relied on instinct to discern signs of danger. It is a pity that the city committee did not ask the bugler’s advice when they decided that the old Ratusha was in good repair. The bugler might have informed them otherwise, but then again, the committee might have to take action and be decisive, the very opposite of why committees are formed. In this case, as in so many others inaction and indecisiveness had fatal consequences.