Looking Into The Mirror – Vysehrad Abandoned Railway Station (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #34)

Like everyone else, I have looked into a mirror countless times. Unlike everyone else, I have never really seen my reflection. The person in the mirror is supposed to be me and in a physical sense it is me, but the mirror does not reflect my feelings of who I really am. To get an accurate reflection of myself, I have spent the past ten years traveling throughout Eastern Europe. Prior to that, I spent 15 years traveling across the Great Plains and western United States. I was looking for myself in all the obscure places. Sometimes I would come across a place that seemed to suit my self-image. A place that whether I liked it or not was a true reflection of how I saw myself. Not long ago, while searching through some old photos of a trip I made to Prague in 2012, I found one photo of a place that for a few fleeting minutes acted as a mirror in which I saw myself reflected. This mirror just so happened to be the abandoned Vysehrad Railway Station.

The Mirror – Vysehrad Train Station

Shades of the Past – The Rust In Rustic
A multi-day stay in Prague allowed me to see a bit of the less touristy side of the city. This was how I found myself the day before departure along the right bank of the Vltava River traveling to Vysehrad, the site of an old fortress that used to be one of the centers of power in Prague during the Middle Ages. That power gravitated away from Vysehrad to the Castle District (Hradcany). Today, the Castle District, along with the Old and New Towns, are the tourist hubs of the city. Fewer come to Vysehrad, but that make a visit that much more compelling. The old fortress holds a commanding position above the Vltava. It makes an excellent vantage point from which to look out across Prague. On my way to the heights of Vysehrad, I came across another impressive place, the abandoned Vysehrad Railway Station. It was the only place in Prague that I found had neither tourists nor locals. As a matter of fact, all it really has is the past. Because of that, I immediately fell in love with the station.

Some places age better than others. The abandoned station at Vysehrad, for all its dilapidation, had in my opinion, aged rather well. The station as it stood on the day I saw it, put the rust in rustic. In many places the white facade was covered with a patina of brown. The paint was either chipped, cracked or fading. While the windows looked like they had not been cleaned in ages, The station had style. Its elegance may have faded, but its grandeur was still intact. With a touch of imagination, the viewer could turn back the clock to the turn of the 20^th century. It reminded me of an old aristocrat living in self-imposed exile. The old aristocrat no longer attends grand balls and gossipy social gatherings, just as trains no longer call at the station. The station wears the neglect and indifference well because it has character and integrity, those indisputable ingredients of greatness.  If the past has a shadow, then the abandoned station at Vysehrad casts it. Somewhere within that shadow can be found the station’s story.

Coming down the line – Train passing by the 19th century Vysehrad Station

Stuck At The Station – Waiting For Departure
The building of a station in Vysehrad was first proposed in the late 1860’s. The original station and railway lines took five years to construct and opened in 1872, connecting the Smichov District on the left bank of the Vltava River, with Vysehrad on the right bank and further onward to Franz Josef Station, as the city’s main railway station was known at the time. The abandoned Vysehrad Station which stands today replaced the original. It was constructed just after the turn of the 20^th century in Art Nouveau style and was in use until the 1960s, after which it became a dumping ground. A renovation occurred during the 1980’s, but maintaining the station continued to be a problem and soon there was seepage from water which caused deterioration in the building.

When communism collapsed in Czechoslovakia, it was an opportune time for Czech Railways to do something different with unwanted assets. This included the Vysehrad Railway Station. It took a while, but the abandoned station was finally rented to private investors who proposed turning it into a cultural and entertainment space. Around the same time, Czech railways stated that they would renovate the station so it could once again serve the hundreds of trains that passed by it each day. The station was also designated a cultural monument in 2001. This afforded it protection from being torn down, but not from further dilapidation.

Like so many post-communist plans in the Eastern Bloc, the proverbial train has never really left the Vysehrad station when it comes to reopening the structure. The latest part of the seemingly unending saga to make it economically viable occurred when a company, TIP Estates, bought the station and surrounding land. Historic preservation turned out not to be the company’s forte. For instance, they tore down a waiting room on one of the platforms which was listed as part of the protected monument. Not long ago, the city of Prague proposed a purchase of the building. Unfortunately, the difference between what the city will pay and what the price demanded by the company was 50 million euros. A deal has yet to be made. The city is now talking about foreclosing on the property. The upshot is that the station has continued to deteriorate while its future is in limbo.

Waiting On A Train – Vysehrad Station in the early 20th century

Lost Glory – Alone, Austere and Formidable
Whatever happens to the station at Vysehrad, I will always have a fondness for that rustically regal edifice. On the day I discovered it, the skies were gloomy, the surrounding streets silent and the station abandoned. I had the station all to myself. It mirrored my mood of melancholy. The station’s essence was of lost glory that could never quite be recovered. I looked at that mirror and saw a reflection myself. The station was battered, but still standing. Alone, austere, and formidable, waiting for someone to notice it, but not caring if they did. There was more than a hint of fragility. At any moment, the station looked as though it might collapse. Then again it might still be standing fifty years from the moment I first laid my eyes upon it. I could only hope the same for myself.

Click here for: Medieval Miracle – Walls of Ston: The Great Wall of Europe (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #35)

In The Shadow Of Giants – Vysehrad: The Soul Of A Nation

Vysehrad gave a sensation of towering over Prague and the Vltava River. The Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul gave a sensation of towering over Vysehrad. The only thing above the Basilica apex was sky. The imposing neo-Gothic edifice of the Basilica loomed much larger than I could have possibly imagined. Its sheer verticality was impressive, an incredible imposition that dwarfed awed onlookers such as myself. Part of this was due to a set of conical towers soaring upward from the façade a full 58 meters. This was one of those buildings that causes dizziness just from looking up at it. Little wonder that Pope John Paul II deemed the structure worthy of basilica status in 1993. Conversely, smaller scale parts of the exterior were graced with touches of intimacy. Beside the main portal, topped with a tympanum of Jesus and the Apostles, was a stone with the words Basilica Minor inscribed upon it. Above those words was a royal crown with two crossed keys.

The right door of the entrance was open, but all I could see was darkness beyond it. That changed once I walked inside. The interior was flooded with light and acted as a radiant tribute to neo-Gothicism. The nave, altar, side chapels and pulpit were all given over to the neo-Gothic style. There were also touches of Baroque and even a little bit of Art Nouveau. Ornate decorative effects covered every square inch of the interior. These lavish flourishes were stunningly vibrant. A sensory experience of the spectacular. This was art at the extremity. The Basilica as seen from the exterior was intimidating, on the inside it was inspiring. I first felt humbled and then uplifted.

In The Shadow Of Giants – Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul in Vysehrad

Reverential Symbolism – Creation Of A Czech Past
This was the last of several versions of the church that had been built on the grounds of Vysehrad. Earlier iterations had long since passed into history, succumbing to fire, warfare or wholesale reconstruction. Only skeletal remains of former foundations could be seen on the ground close to the current one. In the area adjacent to the church, I could not help but notice an array of sizable statues. These had been moved up to Vysehrad from their former placement decorating one of the bridges over the Vltava. It is a wonder that the bridge didn’t buckle beneath the weight of these stone behemoths. The effort it must have taken to transport these statues to their current spots would have been herculean. I knew that the statues were representative of legendary Czechs, part mythical, part historical, all sculpted in stone.

Vysehrad had been transformed in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries into a pantheon promoting Czech nationalism. As such everything in the area close to the Basilica was larger than life, meant to portray strength, vigor and national greatness.  Behind the church I found a cemetery. The gate was half open, an invitation to enter. The cemetery filled with great Czech artists, intellectuals and politicians. No one else has been allowed inside. Forget soldiers or sports figures. Czech culture celebrates the life of the mind. It is an intellectual society, the antithesis of what I grew up with in America. Vysehrad was reimagined to stand above all the rest in extolling the nation’s best. The Czech national revival was a reactionary movement that sought to finally throw off the centuries old shackles of Habsburg rule. Vysehrad was key to that movement. Mythologizing the past, deifying national heroes, reconstructing medieval buildings all as reverential symbols.

More Than A Myth – Sculpture at Vysehrad

Hard Currency & Hearsay – The Known Prague
Visiting Vysehrad brought me closer to what I would say was the true soul of the Czech nation. Everything that stood on those grounds at present was meant to be in the service of Czech nationalism.  A reminder and a sustainer. It was also the antithesis of touristic Prague. The Castle District and the Old Town were so flooded with tourists that they obscured the Czech aspects of Prague. There were times in those areas that I thought they were more Germanic, than Czech. Such thoughts would have been heretical to Czech patriots, but during much of Prague’s past Austrians had reigned supreme. In some ways this was still true today, substitute the word tourists for Austrians. That was because the only Czechs to be found in the most touristic spots of the city were shopkeepers, tour guides (with many notable exceptions) and restaurant staff.

It made me view the most popular parts of Prague as islands unto themselves, where foreigners with their mighty euros and dollars hold sway. For most tourists, their only interactions with Czechs occur when then they are handing hard currency over to them at hotels, bars or to purchase entrance tickets. I had come to Prague on hearsay and I still heard the same things spoken in English or German or Italian or Spanish. The Czech language and Czech people were obscured by throngs of vacationers.  All that changed when I came to Vysehrad. This was a world that was an afterthought to most tourists, while it was at the forefront of what it meant to be Czech.

Looking Back & Looking Forward – The View From Vysehrad

The Beginning At The End – Looking Back, Looking Forward
Vysehrad may have been my last stop, but it should have been my first. It was the first time on this trip that I felt closer to the Czechs and their nation. I did not see many tourists here. Local lovers sat on benches holding one  another, wanderers strolled, a few people prayed in the basilica and everywhere life went on normally. This was both a city park and a sanctuary. I made my way to the fortress walls, at the bottom of which surged auto traffic and just beyond a riverside road flowed the Vltava. The view in both directions was stunning, the dark waters of the Vltava bisecting the valley. Looking to the south there was less development along the river bank. I could almost imagine what the scene would have looked like for the earliest ancestors of the Czech people. According to legend Vysehrad was where it all began for the Czechs and Prague. The setting was just as spectacular as the city it is said to have spawned. The Czechs could not have picked a better place to begin their story and I could not have picked a better place to end my visit in Prague.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In The Shadow Of Giants – Vysehrad: The Soul Of A Nation
Vysehrad gave a sensation of towering over Prague and the Vltava River. The Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul gave a sensation of towering over Vysehrad. The only thing above the Basilica apex was sky. The imposing neo-Gothic edifice of the Basilica loomed much larger than I could have possibly imagined. Its sheer verticality was impressive, an incredible imposition that dwarfed awed onlookers such as myself. Part of this was due to a set of conical towers soaring upward from the façade a full 58 meters. This was one of those buildings that causes dizziness just from looking up at it. Little wonder that Pope John Paul II deemed the structure worthy of basilica status in 1993. Conversely, smaller scale parts of the exterior were graced with touches of intimacy. Beside the main portal, topped with a tympanum of Jesus and the Apostles, was a stone with the words Basilica Minor inscribed upon it. Above those words was a royal crown with two crossed keys.

The right door of the entrance was open, but all I could see was darkness beyond it. That changed once I walked inside. The interior was flooded with light and acted as a radiant tribute to neo-Gothicism. The nave, altar, side chapels and pulpit were all given over to the neo-Gothic style. There were also touches of Baroque and even a little bit of Art Nouveau. Ornate decorative effects covered every square inch of the interior. These lavish flourishes were stunningly vibrant. A sensory experience of the spectacular. This was art at the extremity. The Basilica as seen from the exterior was intimidating, on the inside it was inspiring. I first felt humbled and then uplifted.

Reverential Symbolism – Creation Of A Czech Past
This was the last of several versions of the church that had been built on the grounds of Vysehrad. Earlier iterations had long since passed into history, succumbing to fire, warfare or wholesale reconstruction. Only skeletal remains of former foundations could be seen on the ground close to the current one. In the area adjacent to the church, I could not help but notice an array of sizable statues. These had been moved up to Vysehrad from their former placement decorating one of the bridges over the Vltava. It is a wonder that the bridge didn’t buckle beneath the weight of these stone behemoths. The effort it must have taken to transport these statues to their current spots would have been herculean. I knew that the statues were representative of legendary Czechs, part mythical, part historical, all sculpted in stone.

Vysehrad had been transformed in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries into a pantheon promoting Czech nationalism. As such everything in the area close to the Basilica was larger than life, meant to portray strength, vigor and national greatness.  Behind the church I found a cemetery. The gate was half open, an invitation to enter. The cemetery filled with great Czech artists, intellectuals and politicians. No one else has been allowed inside. Forget soldiers or sports figures. Czech culture celebrates the life of the mind. It is an intellectual society, the antithesis of what I grew up with in America. Vysehrad was reimagined to stand above all the rest in extolling the nation’s best. The Czech national revival was a reactionary movement that sought to finally throw off the centuries old shackles of Habsburg rule. Vysehrad was key to that movement. Mythologizing the past, deifying national heroes, reconstructing medieval buildings all as reverential symbols.

Hard Currency & Hearsay – The Known Prague
Visiting Vysehrad brought me closer to what I would say was the true soul of the Czech nation. Everything that stood on those grounds at present was meant to be in the service of Czech nationalism.
A reminder and a sustainer. It was also the antithesis of touristic Prague. The Castle District and the Old Town were so flooded with tourists that they obscured the Czech aspects of Prague. There were times in those areas that I thought they were more Germanic, than Czech. Such thoughts would have been heretical to Czech patriots, but during much of Prague’s past Austrians had reigned supreme. In some ways this was still true today, substitute the word tourists for Austrians. That was because the only Czechs to be found in the most touristic spots of the city were shopkeepers, tour guides (with many notable exceptions) and restaurant staff.

t made me view the most popular parts of Prague as islands unto themselves, where foreigners with their mighty euros and dollars hold sway. For most tourists, their only interactions with Czechs occur when then they are handing hard currency over to them at hotels, bars or to purchase entrance tickets. I had come to Prague on hearsay and I still heard the same things spoken in English or German or Italian or Spanish. The Czech language and Czech people were obscured by throngs of vacationers.  All that changed when I came to Vysehrad. This was a world that was an afterthought to most tourists, while it was at the forefront of what it meant to be Czech.

The Beginning At The End – Looking Back, Looking Forward
Vysehrad may have been my last stop, but it should have been my first. It was the first time on this trip that I felt closer to the Czechs and their nation. I did not see many tourists here. Local lovers sat on benches holding one  another, wanderers strolled, a few people prayed in the basilica and everywhere life went on normally. This was both a city park and a sanctuary. I made my way to the fortress walls, at the bottom of which surged auto traffic and just beyond a riverside road flowed the Vltava. The view in both directions was stunning, the dark waters of the Vltava bisecting the valley. Looking to the south there was less development along the river bank. I could almost imagine what the scene would have looked like for the earliest ancestors of the Czech people. According to legend Vysehrad was where it all began for the Czechs and Prague. The setting was just as spectacular as the city it is said to have spawned. The Czechs could not have picked a better place to begin their story and I could not have picked a better place to end my visit in Prague.

Vysehrad, Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul, Czech National Revival, Castle District Prague, Czech People, Vysehrad Narodni Kulturni Pamatka, Vysehrad National Cultural Park, High Castle Prague

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Visiting Vysehrad – Myth, Mystery & History: Looking Down Upon Prague

For such a small nation the Czech Republic certainly has grand designs, nowhere more so than in Prague. It is here where Czech greatness is affirmed in architecture, culture and history. For most, the apogee takes place at Prague Castle and the surrounding Castle District (Hradcany). I must admit to being rather awestruck by Castle Hill, to me this was where a fairy tale met the massive, symbolized by such disparate structural elements as the Golden Lane and St. Vitus Cathedral. A world in miniature, a world in monumental, seamlessly integrated to the point that everything in the Castle District looks to have sprung as if by magic from a master plan. I have seen few places so impressive. It left me asking one particular question following my visit: After this, now what?

The Castle District provides all a traveler, historian or architectural buff could ever want. Everything else in Prague seems beneath it, both literally and figuratively. The thought of this depressed me. It informed a sense of hopelessness that the rest of Prague would forever fail to live up to the Castle District’s exalted standards. That feeling would turn out to be wrong, but it was not any of Prague’s most popular places (Old Town Square, Wenceslaus Square, Charles Bridge) that managed to defeat this great depression festering inside of me. Instead it was the last place I went in the city, on my final day.

Vysehrad as seen from the Vltava River (Credit: cSJu)

Scaling The Walls – The Highest Citadel
The ancient citadel of Vysehrad or at least what’s left of it sits high above the Vltava River. This was to be my final destination in Prague as I set out on foot from the guest house. It was my last afternoon in the city and I was hoping to see something memorable. Just getting to the citadel required quite a bit of legwork as I had to make my way up to the craggy rock outcropping it sits atop. Not long thereafter I realized why Vysehrad means “High Castle”. I spent a fair amount of time huffing and puffing my way up to one of its many entrances. Geographically, Vysehrad holds a commanding position over the right bank of the Vltava. On that side of the fortress, it is almost a sheer drop down to the river. The side from which I approached it was nothing to scoff at either. I could not imagine an army trying to make this approach which required walking at a steeply inclined angle for many minutes.

Against well-armed defenders, such an approach would have been suicidal. Conversely, an approach from the riverside was impossible.  I would later discover to my surprise that the fortress was not impregnable, far from it. During the first half of the 15^th century it was ransacked twice and left in ruin. The Leopold Gate was my point of entry to the Vysehrad Narodni Kulturni Pamatka (Vysehrad National Cultural Park). The fortress complex, as it stands today, is almost entirely the product of reconstruction work done during the Baroque era of the 18^th century, but Vysehrad’s history goes all the way back to the earliest days of Slavic settlement in the area. Much of this time, which predates the 10^th century, is shrouded in mystery and obscured by myth. The upshot, Vysehrad is rich in both folkloric and historical connotations.

A portal to a deep past – The Leopold Gate at Vysehrad

Abundant Myths, Foundational Facts – The Royal Way
Legend says that a tribal leader by the name of Krak built a fortress in the area as early as the 7^th century. One of his daughters, Libuse, envisioned that a great city would sprout from this location. Libuse went on to wed a ploughman by the name of Premysl. He then became king, while Libuse founded Prague. This was the legendary beginnings of the Premyslid Dynasty. The truth about Vysehrad is a bit more benign. It was likely settled prior to the year 1000 AD. A fortified town came to occupy the crag during the 11^th century. At one point, the seat of Royal Power was moved away from Castle Hill and to Vysehrad by Vratislaus II, the first King of Bohemia. This led to a thorough reconstruction of the area, which included the development of a palatial complex. In 1140 the seat of power went back to Castle Hill where it would stay. The next major development atop Vysehrad occurred under the Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV. Charles was directly related to the Premyslid Dynasty on his mother’s side, as such he wanted to create a tangible connection between Vysehrad and the Czech people.

Charles decreed that the royal coronation would begin from Vysehrad and terminate three kilometers away on Castle Hill. He also expanded the fortifications, added a new gate and connected its walls with the New Town (Nove Mesto), which Charles had founded. Existing palace complexes were improved and the Gothic church of St. Peter and Paul was upgraded. This period was truly a Golden Age for Vysehrad, a period when it was part of a glorious present that maintained an integral link to a mysterious past. The abundant myths concerning its earliest history provided a foundation upon which the Czech people could stake their claim to the area. It appealed to ethnic pride and eventually to national greatness. Hardly anything from the period of Charles’ rule still stood at Vysehrad. I should have been disappointed, but the setting was so spectacular that I spent much of my visit marveling at the wonderful views.

Looking back toward the Castle District from Vysehrad

Looming Threat– In The Shadow Of Castle Hill
Even after a thousand years of change it was easy to see why Vysehrad held a special place in Czech history. Impressive and intimidating were the two words which came into my mind. The views from the walls looking up and down the Vltava were quite impressive. They were also intimidating. The dark waters of the river made a wide sweep below the fortress, flowing wide and languid toward the Old Town. In the distance I could see the spires of St. Vitus Cathedral in the Castle District silhouetted beneath a bright blue, early spring sky. It was only fitting that one of Castle District’s main attractions should be seen looming in the distance. From a historical standpoint, the Castle District had been Vysehrad’s main competition for the epicenter of Prague.  The Castle District may have won that battle, but Vysehrad held its own prominent place in the Czech pantheon, nowhere more so then in and around the Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul.

Click here for: In The Shadow Of Giants – Vysehrad: The Soul Of A Nation

An Approximation of Greatness – Visegrad: The Pinnacle of Ruins

Visegrad is a stunning sight. The visitor can see right away why the spot was chosen as the location of successive fortresses/castles stretching back nearly two millennia. The remains of this once magnificent complex stand high atop a rocky crag then snake down an exceedingly steep hillside until terminating close to the banks of the Danube River. This complex, once the capital of Hungary, was sited at a highly strategic location, guarding the entrance to the lower Danube. Due to the forces of geology, geography and topography Visegrad seems to have been chosen not so much by man, but nature to play a unique role in East-Central European history. Once humanity discovered the uniqueness of its natural setting, empires and kingdoms sought to co-opt its nearly impregnable position for defensive purposes.

Visegrad as seen from the east side of the Danube River – in the lower left corner is Solomon Tower (Lower Castle)

Going on the Defensive – Visegrad’s Rise, Fall & Rise
Though famous for its role in Hungarian history, the history of Visegrad starts long before the coming of the Magyars. The location first gained prominence during antiquity. The Romans were the first to take advantage of the area’s natural setting. Here they situated a fortress where the mighty River Danube makes a wide arc at what is known as the Danube Bend. This was a critical strongpoint since it helped anchor the defenses which kept the Germanic barbarian tribes to the north at bay. After the Roman Empire collapsed, various tribes continued to occupy the fortress, including Slavic ones which came into the area during the Dark Ages. Not much is known about these tribes, but they did leave at least one lasting legacy. They gave the place a name that is still recognizable today, terming it “Vysehrad” which means “high fortification.” (One of over a thousand words borrowed from Slavic languages that have become part of spoken Hungarian today)  The Slavic tribes of the Dark Ages were subsumed by the coming of the Magyars (Hungarians) who swept into the Carpathian Basin at the end of the 9^th century. It was not long before the Hungarians were finding the site useful for their own purposes.

In the mid-13^th century, a cataclysm of apocalyptic proportions brought about the Visegrad whose remnants can still be seen today. The Mongol Invasion in 1241-42 totally devastated what had been a prosperous Hungarian Kingdom. By one estimate, half of the Kingdom’s two million inhabitants were either killed or became refugees due to the onslaught. In the aftermath, the question was how to protect Hungary from another possible invasion. The answer came from King Bela IV (1235 – 1270) who began to seek out highly defensible places to fortify throughout the Kingdom. His wife, Queen Mary used wealth she had brought with her from the Greek Royal House to help finance the building of the castle/fortress complex. Visegrad became one of the most notable and long lived strategic responses to the utter destruction that had been wrought upon Hungary by the Mongols.

A drawing of Visegrad Castle during the reign of King Matthias Corvinus

Remnants of a Golden Age
For nearly three centuries a host of Hungarian Kings used Visegrad during a golden age which saw them expand their realms from the Baltic to the Black Seas. The first to move here was King Charles Robert (1308 – 1342) in 1323 who wanted to put distance between his court and Buda’s majority German populace. Even after Charles’ successors moved the court back to Buda they continued to pursue work on a palace and castle complex he had started construction on close to the Danube’s banks. The most lavish renovations took place during the reign of King Matthias Corvinus (1458 -1490) who had the buildings associated with Visegrad redone not once, but twice. First in late Gothic style and then transformed to incorporate Renaissance ideas taking hold. It was the Ottoman Turks who would end the Golden Age of Visegrad just a scant half century after Matthias death. Following their occupation of Buda in 1541, they conquered Visegrad via siege warfare three years later. The castle and palace soon fell into disrepair, but the ruins remained to communicate some of Visegrad’s majestic glory to visitors down through the centuries. In the 20^th century a major restoration took place. This effort gives a splendid approximation of Visegrad’s greatness.

Upper Castle – the pinnacle of Visegrad

A Medieval Fortress At Its Peak – Visiting Visegrad
Today Visegrad consists of three must see sites. The first are the palace ruins. In the late 15th century, the palace contained one of the most marvelous royal residences in Europe. Laid out on a square ground plan, there were over 300 rooms on multiple tiers with hanging gardens. Lavish fountains would spew wine during grand events. Among the remnants of the palace that can still be seen today is a loggia. This was among the first Renaissance architectural elements used on a building in Europe outside of Italy.  Next is the Solomon Tower (Lower Castle), one of the more impressive examples of a Keep found anywhere in Europe. At one time a string of these Keeps connected the lower part of Visegrad to the top of the citadel. This must have been quite a sight, intimidating to all but the most formidable of attackers. Unfortunately these defenses still could not stop the Ottoman Turks. During a raid in 1544, the south side of Solomon Tower collapsed. Visegrad was lost and the fortress slowly succumbed to ruin.

The last site is the most impressive of all, the towering Upper Castle looming far above the river, palace and Solomon Tower. It can be accessed via shuttle or footpath. A hike to the Upper Castle leaves the most lasting and exhausting impression. What a task it must have been for any would be conqueror to successfully mount an attack. The Ottoman Turks skill at siege warfare was such that even this daunting task was undertaken with success. From the top of the Upper Castle, the sky above seems close enough to touch, if not with the hand than with one of the citadel’s bastions. The effect is dizzying. It is as though the citadel is floating. Here at the heights of Visegrad, is a medieval castle complex at its peak.