What's in a Prague street name

Every street in Prague, one by one.

  • Náměstí Bratří Synků, colloquially known as Synkáč, was built in 1903; the street name translates as ‘Synek Brothers’ Square’.

    Otto Synek was born to a Jewish family in Prague in 1900; his brother Viktor would be born three years later.

    Working as a bank clerk after university, Otto was fired in 1921 after participating in a strike, and became active in trade unionism, as did Viktor, who didn’t complete his studies.

    Otto joined the Communist Party two years later, becoming Central Secretary of the Communist Youth Association in 1929 – a position which it seems Viktor had held in 1928, despite not actually joining the party and being an employee instead.

    Around this time, Otto was a member of the sounds-a-lot-cooler-than-the-reality Karlínští kluci / Karlin Boys, basically Klement Gottwald’s gang – Gottwald became party leader in 1929, and gave it decidedly Stalinist leanings.

    Viktor, meanwhile, moved to Ostrava, where he helped publish communist periodicals – a role in which he fell foul of press law, leading to a seven-month stint in prison.

    After studying in Moscow, Otto returned to Czechoslovakia and first became secretary of the party’s Prague committee (1933-5), then occupying the same role in Plzeň from 1936 to 1938. He also sat in parliament from 1935 until 1938, when the party was banned and went underground.

    Otto and Viktor both became members of the now-underground party’s Central Committee; Viktor managed to travel illegally to the USSR, where he received several months of training in how to run the resistance.

    On 10 February 1941, Otto was arrested by the Nazi authorities; two days later, the same happened to Viktor.

    Otto was executed on 29 September of the same year at Kobylisy.

    Viktor, meanwhile, was sent to Mauthausen concentration camp, where he was executed on 1 June 1942.

    Obviously, the street wasn’t named after the brothers when it was first built in 1903 – back then, it was Riegrovo, after František Ladislav Rieger, the politician who had been an early leader of the Czech nationalist movement, and had died earlier that year.

    The Nazis renamed the square Metodějovo, after Methodius of ‘Cyril and Methodius’ fame, and it reverted to Riegrovo after the end of WW2, until 1948, when it got its current name.

    According to Wikipedia (i.e. I haven’t verified this to anything else), there was a poll to decide on a new name for the square in 1989, but the winner was Václav Havel, and that didn’t fly because he will still alive at the time. I have a feeling this isn’t true, or isn’t the full story.

    It’s not just the castle that’s disappeared here – in the 1960s, two commemorative stones denoting the time that Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/01/prague-2-day-156-masarykovo-nabrezi/) visited Nusle disappeared, as did a market in the middle of the square.

    While the sights of Nusle tend to be near this square rather than on it, we do have the Poesiomat (Poetry Jukebox). There are about fifty of these in the country (including the original one on Náměstí Míru; https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/03/03/prague-2-day-42-namesti-miru/), and you can use it to listen to twenty different poems.

    Finally, if you’re reading this a long, long way in the future, the D Line of the metro will have a station here. Construction on this part of the line is expected to start in summer 2025, with the station being up and running in 2029.

  • Čestmírova was built in 1892.

    Čestmír is about as Slavic a man’s name as you can find; it means ‘peaceful’ (although, to say ‘peaceful’ in modern Czech, you’d say ‘mírový’.

    About 2,500 men in Czechia currently have the name; for people of a certain generation, the first Čestmír that will come to mind is Čestmír Trnka, the lead character of the 1983 children’s TV series Létající Čestmír (Flying Čestmír), in which he travelled to the ‘planet of flowers’ and developed superpowers as a result.

    Meanwhile, the Čestmír who this street is named after seems to have existed about as much as the 1980s interplanetary schoolboy one did.

    To tell this story properly, we have to mention the Lučans, supposedly a Bohemian tribe which inhabited a territory called Lucko, with Žatec as its centre of power (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/10/20/prague-1-day-207-zatecka/).

    Their leader, who I’m obnoxiously going to pretend was called Lord Lučan, but was actually called Vlastislav (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/01/10/prague-4-day-10-vlastislavova/), broke the peace with Prince Neklan (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/25/prague-2-day-103-neklanova/), so Neklan prepared for war.

    Neklan, however, was peace-loving and didn’t want to fight, so he sent a warrior to lead the army on his behalf. According to Komas and his Chronicle, this warrior was called Tyr.

    Tyr led his army to success, but was killed in the process. For the record, all this supposedly took place around Tursko, nowadays a district in Prague West. It’s generally accepted that the battle did actually occur – but the location, scale and names of those involved are all questionable.

    Kosmas wrote about this tale in his Chronicle in the 12th century, probably based on an ancient Czech song which hasn’t survived. Dalimil – whoever Dalimil was – also wrote about it in his own Chronicle in the early 1300s, and, by that time, ‘Tyr’ had changed to ‘Styr’.

    Six centuries later, the tale would reappear in the Rukopis královédvorský – see https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/22/prague-2-day-91-lumirova/ for the reasonably mind-blowing story of that one. In this version, Tyr/Styr was now called Čestmír.

    Alois Jirásek then took the name, and used it when relating the tale in his Ancient Bohemian Legends / Staré pověsti české, and this is version of the legend that people are most likely to know. Full text here: https://cs.wikisource.org/wiki/Star%C3%A9_pov%C4%9Bsti_%C4%8Desk%C3%A9_(1959)/Luck%C3%A1_v%C3%A1lka.

  • Vlastislavova was built in 1892.

    We’re back onto the mythological figures today.

    The story of the seven mythical dukes of Bohemia was last told on https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/01/03/prague-4-day-3-mnatova/.

    However, of more relevance is the story of Duke Number Four, Vnislav (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/25/prague-2-day-102-vnislavova/), because he supposedly had a brother called Vlastislav. Their father was Vojen who, somehow, has missed out on getting a street round here (although, to be fair, Mnata had to wait until 2024).

    The chroniclers don’t agree on events: Kosmas says that Vnislav became Duke after Vojen died; Dalimil says that, during his lifetime, Vojen divided his land between his sons. Vnislav got Bohemia. Vnislav would later be succeeded by Křesomysl, whose street we’re getting onto soon.

    Vlastislav got an area known as Lucko, which was centered around modern-day Žatec (see https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/10/20/prague-1-day-207-zatecka/ for the history of that city). This made him Duke of the local tribe, the Lučans.

    Unfortunately (I probably mean ‘predictably’), the Lučans and the Bohemians didn’t get on.

    Křesomysl’s successor – and therefore Mythical Duke Six of Seven – was Neklan (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/25/prague-2-day-103-neklanova/). He tried to maintain peace with Vlastislav, who broke this peace by invading Neklan’s villages.

    Neklan went back down the ‘let’s make peace’ route; Vlastislav went back down the ‘let’s start a war’ route. If I explain how that war went in too much detail, that’ll ruin tomorrow’s post, but, for now, I’ll just say that Vlastislav was killed.

    Vlastislav left a son, Zbyslav, who Seemingly All-Round Nice Bloke Neklan took in, entrusting him to his friend, Durynk. Durynk was not a Seemingly All-Round Nice Bloke, because he did the exact opposite of the task entrusted to him and killed Zbyslav.

    Somehow – seriously, don’t ask me how – Durynk took Zbyslav’s head to Neklan, thinking this would impress him. It didn’t. Neklan sentenced Durynk to death, but told him he could choose how he would die.

    In the end, Durynk hanged himself from a tree outside of Prague; it became known as ‘Durynkova olše’ (Durynk’s alder tree).

  • Mečislavova was built in 1892.

    Mečislav is more commonly known as Měšek in Czech; in English, we use his Polish name, Mieszko. That was long thought to be a diminutive form of Mieczysław – still a common name in Poland – but many modern historians disagree.

    Mieszko was born… at some point (take your pick of any year between 922 and 945, with the later chunk of this time period being seen as more likely). Legend has it that he was blind for the first seven years of his life, gaining sight when he went for his first haircut.

    His father was supposedly Siemomysł, Duke of the Polans, but there is no concrete proof of his existence.

    When he died – probably in the late 950s – Mieszko took over, although we can’t be sure exactly what the extent of the territory he ruled was. What we can be sure of is that Mieszko had quite a task ahead of him, as those he ruled over were fiercely loyal to their own tribes above all else.

    Mieszko is first mentioned in writing in 965, when a Jewish traveller from Spain, Ibrahim ibn Yaqub, referred to him as the ‘king of the north’. Ibrahim ibn Yaqub is certainly important from a Czech viewpoint, too – he was the first person to ever mention Prague in writing: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/10/12/prague-1-day-189-tynska/.

    Upon taking power, Mieszko either conquered or consolidated his ancestors’ gains in Mazovia (think the mid-north-west of present-day Poland, approximately between Łódź and Białystok), and probably conquered Pomerania (think the lands on the Baltic Sea which, nowadays, are shared between Poland and Germany).

    However, Mieszko’s expansionist desires were threatened, to the west, by German rulers (who also had their eye on Pomerania), and, to the south, by the Czechs. They held Silesia (including the part of Silesia that’s now in Poland), and, in 955, Boleslav I had got his hands on Lesser Poland, including Kraków.

    Realising that, if you can’t beat them, join them, Mieszko entered into negotiations with Boleslav in 964 or 965, and, as a result, married Boleslav’s daughter, Doubravka.

    Mieszko also decided to accept Christianity – possibly for political reasons (major efforts to convert Bohemia had started much earlier). He was most likely baptised in 966.

    This explains why so much Polish church vocabulary – e.g. kościół (church), chrzest (baptism), kazanie (sermon) and biskup (bishop) is derived from Czech.

    It also meant that no other people – especially the Germans – could attack Mieszko’s lands on the grounds that they needed to be Christianised.

    A missionary bishopric, subordinate to Rome, was established in Poznań in 968.

    Now that he could count on Czech support, Mieszko set about consolidating and strengthening his position in Pomerania, which was neither an easy process nor a short one.

    Doubravka died in 977, and Mieszko married Oda of Haldensleben, daughter of Dietrich of Haldensleben, Margrave of the Nordmark (roughly equivalent to present-day Brandenburg). Relations with Bohemia inevitably deteriorated.

    In 990, Mieszko and Boleslav’s successor – also Boleslav (II) – ended up at war, with the Polish ruler gaining control over Silesia.

    Mieszko died in 992, and was succeeded by his son, Bolesław I  (the Brave) – meaning that, until 999, Bohemia was ruled by a Boleslav, and Poland by a Bolesław. And, in 999, the latter would also become Duke of Bohemia, known as Boleslav III (the Red). That’s a lot of Boleslavery to process.

    Mieszko’s legacy is significant – the territory that he ruled over is the first land that we can call Poland, he brought Catholicism to the country (we can confidently say it has, erm, ‘persisted’ there), and left his son with territories twice the size of those he had had when he came to power.

    If you’ve been to Poland and didn’t pay for everything by card, you might have seen him.

    That’s only about € 2.30 these days, though, so maybe he won’t be around much longer, and this street, which, let us remind ourselves, hasn’t actually got his name right, will survive longer.

  • Ctiradova was built in 1900. It was called U nádraží until 1928, due to its location near the train station – we’ll get onto that soon-ish.

    We’re back in mythology territory today, and it’ll help if you take a look at the story of Libuše: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/23/prague-2-day-93-libusina/. If you’re pressed for time: Libuše ruled over her tribe as queen, predicted the future existence of Prague, and married Přemysl Oráč; their descendants would rule Bohemia until 1306.

    After Libuše died, the women of Bohemia set up a fortress at Děvín, and rebelled against the men of Bohemia, who ruled from Vyšehrad (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/26/prague-2-day-118-vysehradska/). Predictably, the men thought this was something of a joke.

    Realising that men often don’t think with their brains, the leader of the rebellion, Vlasta, would send her most beautiful girls out to grab the men’s attention. The entranced men would then head towards Děvín, after which the women would attack them – and win.

    Vlasta (pictured) particularly disliked one of Přemysl’s friends, who was called Ctirad.

    In the forest, she tied one of her most beautiful girls, Šárka, to a tree, and told her to cry out for help. Ctirad heard her, and came to her aid. He untied her and promised that he’d take her home.

    Šárka had a horn round her neck, and told Ctirad to blow on it. What Ctirad didn’t know was that this horn was basically saying ‘hey ladies, he fell for it’.

    Vlasta’s warriors tortured and killed Ctirad at Děvín Castle, but their days were numbered once news of what they’d done made it back to Vyšehrad.

    In the ensuing fighting, Vlasta was killed, and Děvín was burnt to the ground. Only men ruled from that point on, and, for crying out loud, it’s 2025 and the country still hasn’t had a female Prime Minister or President.

    Šárka, meanwhile, killed herself by jumping off a cliff; it’s not clear why, but it’s possible that she had fallen in love with Ctirad and couldn’t handle the guilt of what had happened, or that she felt that this form of death was preferable to surrendering.

    In any case, you’re likely to know the area where her death took place – it’s called Divoká Šárka (i.e. wild Šárka). If you’re a visitor to Prague, it’s very likely to be one of the first things you see when you make your way from the airport into the city; if you’re a local, you’ll know it as Prague’s post popular hiking location.

    There’s a wonderful statue of Ctirad and Šárka at Vyšehrad, by Josef Václav Myslbek (who’s most famous for the status of Wenceslas and his horse on Václavské náměstí: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/17/prague-1-day-123-vaclavske-namesti/).

    It can be seen on https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ctirad_and_%C5%A0%C3%A1rka (reminds self to go and get his own photo of it ASAP).

  • Na Zámecké was built in 1900.

    ‘Zámecký’ is the adjective deriving from ‘zámek’ – a castle.

    In 1627, Sezima z Vrtby, a nobleman, purchased the then-village of Horní (Upper) Nusle. Around 1649, he had a manor house built where náměstí Bratří Synků is now.

    His grandson, Jan Josef z Vrtby (1669-1734), not only united Horní Nusle and Dolní (Lower) Nusle into one village, but had the manor house converted into a castle. Of course, none of this will be news to you if you were here on day 2: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/01/02/prague-4-day-2-vrtbova/.

    It had three floors, eighteen rooms, a dancehall, a chapel, a warehouse and a stable. Clearly wanting to make sure he had all bases covered, JJzV had a brewery built nearby in 1694.

    In the mid-1700s, the Vrtby family sold the castle to Jindřich František II. z Mansfeldu, from another well-known line of nobles. It was prestigious enough for Maria Theresa to pay a visit.

    Ultimately, the castle was a victim of industrial progress: when the Prague-Tábor railway line (which would later go all the way to Vienna) was constructed, the castle and its gardens were divided into two parts, and, in 1882, Nusle Railway Station (more on that later in this series) was established, taking up a large proportion of the grounds.

    Meanwhile, Nusle itself was expanding, and further homes were needed. By 1903, the entire castle – which had arguably become more of a farmyard by that stage – had been demolished, and, by in 1905, the castle’s yard was gone too.

    This is the castle as it looked in 1899.

    And here is its wall in 1903.

    Really, the name of this street is the only reminder that we have (there was a wine bar called Na Zámecké until about 2000, but then it became a bank, which is the exact opposite of what happened in the UK around the same time, when banks would turn into trendy wine bars, leaving a lot of locals slightly miffed).

  • Otakarova was built in 1900.

    Přemysl Otakar II was born in or around 1233, the son of Václav I, who had been King of Bohemia since 1230, and his wife, Kunigunde of Hohenstaufen.

    His older brother, Vladislav, became Margrave of Moravia and Duke of Austria in 1246, but died suddenly in 1247, probably of natural causes despite only being about twenty.

    This meant that Otakar was now heir to the Bohemian throne, and was given Moravia; as a result, he moved to Brno.

    Václav, meanwhile, had started to withdraw from public life and surround himself with yes-men. This displeased many of the nobles, who elected Otakar ‘the younger King’ and banished Václav from Prague Castle. However, after the Pope excommunicated Otakar, Václav was able to defeat the rebels.

    In 1251, Otakar became Duke of Austria and Styria, a position strengthened by his marriage to Margaret of Austria in the following year (pictured below, looking quite cheerful).

    He promptly ended up in conflict with Béla IV, King of Hungary and Croatia, who claimed Styria. Otakar maintained his rule over Austria, but, in 1254, the Pope forced him to hand Styria over to his rival.

    In the meantime (specifically 1253), Václav died, and Otakar became King of Bohemia. A year later, he set off on a crusade to Christianise the Old Prussians, who were still following pagan beliefs. He not only managed to increase his own influence in Poland and Silesia, and, on the Baltic, the town of Königsberg/Královec/Kaliningrad was named after him.

    Meanwhile, Béla IV hadn’t gone anywhere, and he and Otakar ended up fighting over Styria once more. In 1260, Otakar defeated Béla at the Battle of Kressenbrunn (nowadays in Lower Austria). A peace treaty ensued, with Otakar getting his marriage to Margaret annulled, and marrying Béla’s granddaughter, Kunigunda of Halych (in Czech: Kunhuta Uherská or Kunhuta Haličská).

    Otakar also got Styria back, a claim which was endorsed by Richard of Cornwall, King of Germany. Clearly developing a bit of a taste for gaining additional lands, Otakar gained the Egerland (the Cheb region, nowadays in Western Bohemia) in 1266, Carinthia (now shared between Austria and Slovenia), Carniola (now in Slovenia) and the Windic March (ditto) in 1268, and Friuli (nowadays in north-east Italy) in 1272.

    Things took a turn in 1272, when Richard of Cornwall died, and the throne of the Holy Roman Empire became vacant. Otakar decided that he should make a claim to it, but the prince-electors – the electoral college responsible for choosing the Emperor – went for Rudolph, a relatively unknown count from what was, at that point, a relatively unknown family – the Habsburgs.

    Otakar complained to the Pope, but to no avail; Rudolph, meanwhile, didn’t waste any time, and declared that all the lands that Otakar obtained (or got back) since 1260 were now his.

    Otakar refused (to be fair, we all would), while Rudolph made overtures to noble families in Bohemia who didn’t like Otakar much either, such as the Vitkovci and the Rožmberks.

    Clearly wanting to kick Otakar when he was down, Rudolph placed him under an Imperial ban in 1275 (meaning he lost all his possessions). Facing internal rebellions, Otakar was forced to make peace with Rudolph. Having possessed lands stretching all the way down to Italy and Slovenia only a few years earlier, he was now left with just Bohemia and Moravia.

    In 1278, once Otakar had managed to suppress dissenters within Bohemia itself, he decided it was time to declare war on Rudolph and get some of his possessions back. Having found himself allies from Brandenburg and Poland, his forces met Rudolph’s at the Battle of the Marchenfeld on 26 August 1278.

    This ended disastrously for the Czech state, as Otakar was defeated and killed.

    For the next stages of the story, please see https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/01/01/prague-4-day-1-zavisova/.

    During his reign, Otakar founded over 30 cities – including in present-day Austria – built many fortresses, including Křivoklát, and issued a general privilege which facilitated the integration of Bohemia’s Jewish population into society.

    Non-Czechophiles might still know of him from Dante’s Divine Comedy, where he and Rudolph can be seen outside the gates of Purgatory.

    The most interesting feature of Otakarova – a main road, but a short one – is this mural by ChemiS, a local artist with Kazakh roots who we’ll be seeing again in this series. It was unveiled in May 2024.

    Created for AstraZeneca, the mural aims to raise awareness of asthma, and was unveiled on 7 May, which is World Asthma Day. Showing a pair of lungs as part of a landscape scene, it celebrates the ability to breathe freely.

    Do give ChemiS a follow on https://www.instagram.com/chemisgraffiti/?hl=en and http://chemisland.com/ – his work is marvellous.

  • Na Ostrůvku was built in 1906.

    An ‘ostrůvek’ is an island, but a small one – so you might wish to call it an islet (relatedly, a ‘dopravní ostrůvek’ is a traffic island).

    As you can see from the map above, we’re nowhere near the Vltava. However, we are very close to (as in ‘right next to’) the Botič stream, which is one of the longest streams in Prague (a primer on https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/26/prague-2-day-115-boticska/).

    The Botič also gets an indirect mention in Kde domov můj, the Czech national anthem.

    And, once upon a time, there was an islet, or ostrůvek, here. It must have been pretty tiny.

    One of the houses on the street – number 4 – is a cultural monument. It’s a Neo-Renaissance building, built in 1902 based on a design by one Antonín Fric.

  • Another super-new street, only this time with an adequate picture of the street sign. Progress.

    Jaroslav Mužík was born in Nové Strašecí, near Rakovník, in 1858, but moved to Nusle shortly after. At school, one of his teachers was Petr Mužák, husband of the writer Karolina Světlá (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/28/prague-1-day-153-karoliny-svetle/). He then went to university in Vienna.

    In 1887, Mužík became a member of Nusle’s town council; a year later, he founded the local Sokol branch (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/26/prague-2-day-114-sokolska/; that Nusle Sokol will appear in at least two future posts). He also founded a local bank.

    In 1892, he was elected Mayor, a position that he would hold until 1899. During this time, Nusle was promoted from town to city status, and construction progressed in a big way.

    You may have noticed how many streets in this series (and in the brief-ish Nusle section when we were talking about Prague 2) were built in 1892, and that they were named after ancient Czech figures – it turns out that Mužík was a keen historian, so presumably this was his decision.

    However, with construction often comes destruction, and some older structures – such as the walls stretching from Vyšehrad (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/26/prague-2-day-118-vysehradska/) to Folimanka (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/08/19/prague-2-day-77-na-folimance/) – were demolished.

    Mužík would be called back into the role of Mayor in 1914, and held it throughout World War One.

    He died in 1924 – two years after Nusle had become part of Prague – and is buried at Vinohrady Cemetery.

  • No street sign today, as this still seems to be a construction site, and I’m too British to ask if I’m allowed in.

    The first historically documented Duke of Bohemia was Bořivoj I, who ruled from about 867 until about 889 – more about him in Prague 3: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2023/01/14/prague-3-day-134-borivojova/.

    Mythology tells us that there were seven Dukes of Bohemia before him, all descended from Přemysl, the founder of the Přemyslid dynasty, which would rule Bohemia until 1306.

    Mnata was the second of these seven alleged dukes.

    His name was first recorded in the Chronica Boemorum, by Cosmas of Prague – written between 1119 and 1125, this was a Latin-language chronicle which was the first such work to describe the history of Bohemia (and Moravia).

    As ‘mníti’ is an old verb meaning ‘to remember’, it’s possible that Mnata was so-called because he had an excellent memory.

    Another theory, put forward by the historian Záviš Kalandra (1902 to 1950; executed along with Milada Horáková), is that the seven princes were named after the days of the week, and Mnata, as number two, was linked to Mano, a god to whom Monday was dedicated (see also: German Montag and, of course, Monday itself).

    On the other hand, chroniclers and historians failed to find anything to say (*cough* make up *cough*) about Mnata other than his name. Those who are a bit disappointed with this – I’m one of them – will be relieved there’s a much better mythological prince story coming up on day seven.

  • At the date of writing, this street was still under construction, which means this was the best photo I could get.

    Jan Josef z Vrtby was born in 1669, part of the noble Vrtba family. Already in an advantageous social position, his prestige increased yet further in 1690 when he married Susanne Antonia Heussenstamm, a countess (side note: they were already related enough for permission from the Pope to be needed before the wedding could go ahead).

    Having inherited part of the village of Dolní Nusle, he purchased the remaining part around this time, and, in 1694, had a brewery built, as well as a one-story château.

    Jan Josef also become hugely powerful within Bohemia: in 1712, he was chosen as Supreme Burgrave of Prague Castle – making him the territory’s most important land official and head of the Bohemian Diet. In 1723, he became Treasurer of Bohemia.

    After Susanne’s premature death in 1715, Jan Josef never remarried, finding solace by becoming a patron of the arts; among those that he provided financial support to was one Antonio Vivaldi.

    He died in 1734.

    The château he had constructed in Nusle is no more, but we’ll go into further detail on that in a few days. The brewery, meanwhile, still exists.

    Finally purchased from the Vrtba family in 1857 by a local, Antonín Procházka, it was then bought by the Prague Credit Bank in 1897.

    Brewing beer until 1963, its buildings are now mainly used to process and cultivate wine. The area around here, dilapidated for some time, is now being converted into a residential district; the listed buildings of the brewery complex are going to be renovated and revitalised.

  • We’re off! Závišova was built in 1892, which is also approximately when I finished work on What’s In a Prague 1 Street Name.

    Záviš z Falkenštejna was born around 1250, as a member of the South Bohemian branch of the noble Vítkov family. He was first mentioned in writing in 1262, when King Přemysl Otakar II put him, his father and his brother in charge of a monastery in Austria.

    However, it was also around this time that the Vítkovs started to feel threatened by the King, who was building his power in South Bohemia (particularly by founding České Budějovice in 1265).

    Things came to a head in 1276, when the Vítkovs – in conjunction with Austrian and Styrian nobles, as well as the Rožmberks, another Czech family – started a rebellion against Přemysl Otakar. Záviš fled to his estate, which was in Habsburg-controlled territory, and was sentenced to death in absentia.

    In 1278, Přemysl Otakar would be killed by German, Habsburg-led forces at the Battle on the Marchfeld (Czech: Bitva na Moravském poli), all of which I’m glossing over slightly here because there’s an Otakarova street coming up on day 6.

    He was replaced by his son, Václav, who was only six years old, and so his cousin, Otto V, Margrave of Brandenburg-Salzwedel, ruled as regent. Václav, meanwhile, was held captive for a few years. So much for being king.

    Záviš decided it was safe to return to Bohemia, but old habits die hard: by 1279, he was in conflict with the Brandenburgs, and burned down Budějovice.

    In 1280, he went to Hradec nad Moravicí, now in Opava District, where Otakar’s widow, Kunigunde (Kunhata) was residing. They embarked on a love affair, and moved to Moravia in 1281, having a son, Ješek, around the same time.

    In 1283, Václav – now 12 – was released from captivity. Kunhata and her new family returned to Prague, where an unusually peaceful coup took place. One result of this would be that Záviš basically became the chief administrator of the country.

    Sadly, Kunhata – to whom Záviš had got married at some point – died in 1285; initially, his position within the court was unaffected.

    However, in 1287, Václav’s wife, Judith of Habsburg (Czech: Guta Habsburská) arrived in Bohemia, and made it quite clear that she and the rest of the Habsburgs were not fans of Záviš.

    Záviš thought it might help his position if he got married again – in 1288, he married Elizabeth of Hungary (Czech: Alžběta Kumánka). They had a son later that year, and, in early 1289, Záviš made the fatal mistake of inviting Václav to the baptism. Záviš was duly arrested and accused of treason and attempted murder.

    Held in captivity until the summer of 1290, Záviš was found guilty and executed on 4 July at Hluboká nad Vltavou.

    Famous works about Záviš include Smetana’s opera The Devil’s Wall / Čertova stěna; the libretto was by Eliška Krásnohorská (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/10/29/prague-1-day-224-elisky-krasnohorske/).

    My goodness, I cannot BEGIN to describe how happy I am to be writing these again.

  • Originally published on 13 July 2024.

    And today, we come to the end of the road(s).

    For the story of the name Těšnov, see yesterday: TESNOV

    Commissioned in 1980, the 360-metre excavated road tunnel connects Nábřeží Ludvíka Svobody (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-284-tesnov/) with Rohanské nábřeží (on the other side, and therefore in Prague 8).

    It’s near the Ministries of Transport and Agriculture, and therefore also near the former headquarters of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia (there’s an interesting story on https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-279-holbova/).

    Given its location, and the fact that it came into being during the presidency of Gustáv Husák, it’s colloquially known as Husákovo ticho (Husák’s Silence).

    An unconfirmed story has it that the tunnel was built so that the sound of passing cars wouldn’t disturb the Communists’ meetings. This seems unlikely, but I can confirm that the cars are still pretty loud.

    While we’re in the area, this nearby statue, created by Jiří Plieštik and unveiled in 2004, deserves a bit of attention.

    Its location near the Ministry of Agriculture is anything but coincidental – it commemorates the people who were screwed over by collectivisation (i.e. the abolition of private ownership of agricultural land), which mainly happened in the 1950s.

    95% of farms in Czechoslovakia were collectivised – with the process being more thorough here than in Slovakia – and nobody could own more than 50 hectares of land. Many left agriculture – and the countryside – altogether.

    Hence the depiction of sheaves of corn surrounded by barbed wire.

  • Originally publishe3d on X on 12 July 2024.

    The first written mention of Těšnov, a settlement just outside the New Town walls, and only consisting of a few guardhouses, dates from 1437.

    (Photo of the Pořící gate before its destruction in 1875)

    You might remember that Pořící – immediately to the west – was largely inhabited by Germans; Těšnov is believed to be a corruption of Deutschenhof, or ‘German Court’.

    Těšnov even had its own magistrate, but, not long after it was first mentioned, the settlement became deserted and wouldn’t be mentioned again for about four hundred years.

    In the 1870s, Prague gained a trio of railway stations. You probably know the main one, and what is now Masarykovo, but the terminus of the Austrian Northwestern Railway was located where Těšnov had once been.

    After using a temporary building on Rohanský ostrov for a couple of years, the train station was unveiled in 1875. It was called Praha – severozápadní nádraží / Prague – North-West Station.

    It was a spectacular Neo-Renaissance complex (by the architect Carl Schlimp), with a triumphal arch, four Corinthian columns and an allegorical sculpture of Austria.

    Houses began to be built around the station, and, in 1894, the new street was named Těšnov.

    In 1919, the station was renamed Denison, after Ernest Denis (1849-1921), a French historian and Slavophile who had created the Comité national d’études, an organisation advocating for Czechoslovak independence.

    In 1953, the station was renamed Praha-Těšnov. However, as the years went by, the authorities decided roads were more important than tracks.

    This led to the decision to create a highway running through the centre of the city, but there was a problem with this plan: one of the corners of the train station stood where the road was meant to be.

    There were discussions about turning the station into a museum, but many in the Communist Party wanted it to be demolished in the name of progress.

    The last train left the station on 1 July 1972.

    Efforts to save the building came to nothing, and it was blown up in 1985. The silver lining – a very, very, very thin line – is that many of its contents were transferred to the depositories of the Museum of the Capital City of Prague.

    Těšnov (the street) was almost certainly a heck of a lot nicer before all this reconstruction happened too. Nowadays, it definitely has parts you’d avoid at night, and maybe also during the day.

    That newly created road (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2023/12/25/prague-2-day-9-wilsonova/) was already my least favourite thing in Prague 1 that isn’t a green scooter on a street corner at night *before* I learnt about this. FFS.

    In ‘things that weren’t demolished’ news, Těšnov is where to go if you want to see the facade of the Ministry of Agriculture (or, more realistically, these days, protest outside it).

  • Originally published on X on 11 July 2024.

    Antonín Stárek was born in 1841.

    We don’t know much else about him, but we do know he worked as a miller – which would explain why he has a street named after him round here (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-258-nove-mlyny/).

    We also know that he was a New Town councillor from 1885 to 1896, and died in 1899.

    The street was built around 1890, but has only been separate from its neighbouring street (coming up tomorrow) since 1916.

  • Originally published on X on 10 June 2024.

    Once upon a time, there was a street called U hradeb na Poříčí. This was partly because it was located near the New Town hradby, AKA fortifications: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/09/prague-1-day-251-hradebni/.

    And partly because this street is located in the former settlement of Poříčí: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-272-na-porici/.

    In the mid-1400s, there was a house on the street called Stará Štvanice, named after Štvanice, an island just to the north of here (see the map).

    It belongs to Prague 7, hence only being mentioned in passing to date.

    In the mid-19th century, the house was purchased by a Mr Jan Půta, hence Půtova (Spanish and French speakers may have been hoping for something a bit more salacious. Lo siento).

    The street is not the widest, and only has three addresses. Nice colours though (the former Casa Půta is the beige one at number 2).

  • Originally published on X on 9 July 2024.

    Some of the mills which used to be here – and are taking up quite a large chunk of recent threads – were owned by the Helm family, one of the richest in the New Town.

    Their name is first mentioned in connection with the mills in 1398; here are the mills in 1853, as painted by Bedřich Havránek.

    Originally, the street was called Mlýnská ulička, which needs very little additional explanation: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-278-mlynarska/.

    Eventually, the street became known as U Helmových mlýnů (ditto), before changing to Helmovská in 1869, and Helmova in 1894.

    The last of the Helm mills was also the last mill standing in the New Town; it was ultimately destroyed in 1929.

    Here’s one of the mill buildings, as painted by Václav Jansa (1859-1913).

  • Originally published on X on 8 July 2024.

    That translates as ‘ship mills’, as does the name the street had in the 14th century (Lodecké mlyny). The ship mills have already been covered here, just a few metres away: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-263-lodecka/.

    There were both upper and lower ship mills around here, and the street was named after the latter in the 1700s, i.e. it was known as Dolní lodní mlyny, although the current name has stuck since the 19th century.

    It’s also another case of a street where you have to do a trade-off between dealing with traffic and getting a decent photo of the street sign (here’s attempt number 1).

    We’ve only got five posts to go now, and… there will be yet another mill-related one in there.

  • Originally published on X on 7 July 2024.

    This is the closest you’re getting, and if you were there, you’d understand.

    Back in the 15th century, there was a royal spa here. It was owned by a Jakub Holba, who I can’t find any more information about.

    Between then and its current status as what feels like a 110-metre motorway, Holbova has had a few past incarnations (and it may help if I mention that we’re in an area of government buildings: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-257-nabrezi-ludvika-svobody/).

    At the start of the 20th century, the Vltava still flowed here before its banks were regularised.

    In the 1920s, the area was greenery (and, say what you want about that first picture, but it’s definitely green); in the 1930s, a sports ground for university students appeared.

    Then, in 1955-6, a summer cafe was established where the street is now. It was called Pavilonek, and belonged to the Central Committee of the Communist Party – who had their premises in today’s Ministry of Transport.

    A bunker had been built under said building in the 1930s; in 1962, it was extended, and the new parts were under Pavilonek, which was also ‘lucky’ enough to have a statue of Klement Gottwald next to it.

    The bunker would later be known as Husák’s Bunker, despite Husák not being First Secretary of the Communist Party until 1969, or President of Czechoslovakia until 1975.

    The cafe was knocked down in 1977 due to construction of a nearby tunnel (coming up in a few days); the last remaining building on the street survived until 1981.

    There’s been talk of converting it into a museum, although things have gone rather silent on that count since about 2015.

    Great pics on here: https://zpravy.aktualne.cz/budova-uv-ksc-po-petadvaceti-letech/r~7cda108e6fe611e4bdad0025900fea04/.

    Helping to explain the substandard picture, Holbova features minimal pavements (I’m sure I saw a glimpse of one, but it only lasts a few metres), nowhere to park your car, and no buildings.

  • Originally published on X on 6 July 2024.

    Repetition alert (not inappropriate for svátek 2 of 2): the street is named after the mills that used to be here (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-258-nove-mlyny/).

    Or, if we’re being really accurate, the people who worked in them – a ‘mlynář’ is a miller.

    Mlynářská has had its name since 1890; it was originally called Umrlčí (basically ‘Corpse Street’), because it was where bodies were stored before burial at St Peter’s (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/11/10/prague-1-day-274-petrska/).

    Expect a few more 100-metre / please-refer-to-previous-thread threads before this series ends this time next week.