In times long past, when Prague was ruled by the wise and enlightened Emperor Charles IV, a landscape full of vineyards and orchards stretched along its western edge, on Petřín Hill. However, it is precisely in these places, where an old observatory stands today, that a stone wall stood and still stands, bearing the name Hladová (Hunger Wall). And around it, from time immemorial, a legend has hovered, as old as the stones themselves and as mysterious as the whisper of the wind in its loopholes.

Charles, Roman Emperor and Bohemian King, a far-sighted man with his mind set on the eternal glory of Prague, knew well that although the city was flourishing, its fortifications were not perfect. Especially Malá Strana, then still the Lesser Town of Prague, and Prague Castle itself with Hradčany, were vulnerable from the southwest side, from Petřín. And so the king decided that in the years of our Lord 1360 to 1362, he would have a massive wall built to strengthen Prague’s defense. It was to stretch from Újezd, climb the slopes of Petřín towards Strahov Monastery, and from there continue to Hradčany, thus encircling the city like a stone serpent. Originally, people simply called it Zubatá (Toothed) for its battlements, which rose to the sky like the teeth of some ancient creature.

The construction was truly magnificent. The wall, built of hard marlstone, reached an impressive height of over four meters, and its thickness approached two meters. In its upper part, it was equipped with a patrol walkway, loopholes from which archers could defend the city, and battlements, which gave it a formidable yet majestic appearance. In various places, it was reinforced with advanced towers, so-called bastions, of which there were reportedly eight, and which served as observation posts. One of these bastions, the strongest and highest situated, still forms the foundation of the main dome of today’s Štefánik Observatory, from where people look at the stars, while the wall beneath them quietly remembers ancient times.

However, fate played its own game with both the king and Prague. Scarcely had the construction begun when a famine struck the land, a cruel and ruthless famine that took its toll among the common people in 1361. Crops failed, wells dried up, and the cries of hungry children and desperate mothers echoed in the streets of Prague. People died in the streets, and those who survived wandered through the city with empty eyes and stomachs.

The sight of his suffering subjects saddened the heart of Charles IV, even though he knew he was building the wall primarily for the defense of the country. And so, guided by his wise and merciful spirit, he came up with a decision that became the basis of one of Prague’s most famous legends. He ordered that everyone suffering from hunger be given work on the construction of the Zubatá (Toothed) Wall. Everyone who lent a hand and carried stone or mortar was to receive a daily wage, plus good bread and soup. The news quickly spread throughout Prague and its surroundings. People, emaciated and desperate, flocked to Petřín. Thousands worked, laying stone after stone, and with each new section of the wall, life returned to their bodies. Many of them would surely have perished without this work and sustenance.

And so it happened that the wall, which was meant to be just a fortress, also became a salvation. The famine raged, but thanks to the king’s decree and this construction, countless lives were saved. People who had previously been dying of hunger now worked, and their sweat and toil soaked into the marlstone. And it was then, in those difficult times, that it began to be whispered that it was not just the Zubatá (Toothed) Wall, but a wall that feeds. A wall that appeases hunger. And so the name Hladová zeď (Hunger Wall) was born, which stuck to it and remains to this day, even though its primary purpose was purely strategic.

For centuries, the legend of the Hladová zeď (Hunger Wall) was told from generation to generation. Chroniclers such as Václav Hájek z Libočan and later Bohuslav Balbín wrote about it, recording this story of the king, the famine, and the merciful construction. The wall itself, nearly one and a half kilometers long, stood firm for ages. It underwent many modifications; over the centuries, it was repaired several times, and passages were broken through and then walled up again, which today serve as pedestrian paths. Even during the reign of Empress Maria Theresa, who ascended the throne many years later, the wall was further fortified, and its importance for the city’s defense was still recognized.

And so, when you walk on Petřín today and touch the cold stones of the Hladová zeď (Hunger Wall), you can feel not only the coldness of the marlstone but also the echoes of ancient suffering and hope. If you hear the whisper of the wind in its old loopholes, know that it might be the voice of those who once worked here with empty stomachs but with new hope in their hearts. The wall, which was meant to protect Prague from external enemies, also became a protector against the worst enemy – hunger. And so it stands to this day, a silent reminder of the wisdom of King Charles IV, the cruelty of the famine, and the strength of the human spirit, which even in the greatest need seeks a path to survival. It is a wall that nourishes, though no longer with bread, but with story and eternal memory.