In the fourteenth century, when the Czech land flourished in a golden age, it was ruled by a wise and pious sovereign, Emperor and King Charles IV. He loved his Prague above all else, and under his hands, it grew and prospered, becoming the pearl of Europe. Prague Castle proudly towered above the Vltava, where within its depths, St. Vitus Cathedral rose to the heavens, the work of masters Matthias of Arras and later Peter Parler, which was to bear witness to God’s glory and the power of Czech kings. Already as a child, according to legend born in the House at the Stone Bell on Old Town Square, Charles felt a deep bond to this city, which was both his cradle and his destiny.

But even into the brightest sun, a shadow sometimes creeps, and so unrest fell into Charles’s heart. From the dark corners of the Old Town, from ancient alleys and dim houses, a whisper reached him, indeed a sinister prophecy. It said that Old Prague, though now so magnificent and full of life, was doomed to destruction, that one day misfortune and ruin would engulf it. Many would dismiss such words, considering them old wives’ tales, but Charles, a man of deep faith and foresight, took them seriously. He knew that fate sometimes appears in unexpected signs, and that one cannot fight it with a mere sword. He therefore decided to defy fate not with force, but with wisdom and vision.

And so a magnificent idea was born in his mind, an idea that was to overcome the prophecy itself. Charles IV decided to expand Prague, to found a new city that would embrace and protect the old mother. In 1348, with deliberation and determination, he laid the cornerstone for the New Town of Prague. It was an enormous undertaking, requiring not only gold but also immense will. Around the original Old Town, new districts began to spread, wide streets and spacious squares, which were to accommodate thousands of new inhabitants and give Prague room for further growth.

Thus, majestic squares were created, which were to serve trade and the gathering of people. Formerly the Cattle Market, today Charles Square, it became the largest in all of Europe, a pulsating artery of new life. The Horse Market, today Wenceslas Square, buzzed with lively activity, and the Hay Market, now Senovážné Square, supplied the city with necessary fodder. Charles IV carefully attended to the urban plan, so that the New Town would not be just a cluster of houses, but a well-thought-out, functional whole that would surpass many other European settlements in its beauty and arrangement.

But Charles IV did not think only of worldly matters. Just like his father, John of Luxembourg, who elevated Prague in many ways, he himself was deeply religious and yearned for the spiritual development of his country. Therefore, he also founded numerous monasteries, which were to spread education and piety. Among them, the Emmaus Monastery, also called Na Slovanech, stood out, where Slavic liturgy was cultivated and which became an important spiritual and cultural center. These monasteries were to be spiritual fortresses that would protect the city not only from visible enemies but also from the dark forces of fate.

Years passed and Prague, under Charles’s rule, became a true empire, a city where beauty was combined with wisdom, piety with trade. Charles IV, Roman Emperor and Czech King, left behind a legacy that was unparalleled. He believed that by founding the New Town and strengthening the spiritual life of Prague, he had succeeded in reversing the dark prophecy, that he had given his beloved city new hope and strength.

But even the greatest sovereigns must one day depart. When the somber day of November 29, in the year of our Lord 1378, arrived, Emperor and King Charles IV lay on his deathbed at Prague Castle. At that moment, as his life force waned and his soul prepared to leave his body, something wondrous and supernatural occurred. Without any human intervention, the death knell, the largest bell from the tower of St. Vitus Cathedral, rang out by itself. Its deep, mournful voice spread over Prague, as if announcing to the world that something immensely significant was happening.

And it was not just the ringing of one bell. Gradually, all the bells in Prague joined it – from the churches of the Old Town, the New Town, from monasteries and from small chapels. One by one, as if controlled by an invisible hand, they rang out, and their silvery voice flooded the entire city, indeed the entire country. It was as if Prague itself, the entire kingdom, had awakened to weep over the departure of its beloved father.

Charles IV, though on the verge of death, heard this heavenly chorus. His eyes, already clouded by the approaching end, lit up for a moment. With the last remnants of strength he had left, he raised his hand and exclaimed: “Behold, my children, the Lord God already calls me, be with you forever!” With these words, surrounded by the sound of bells that sang and mourned his departure by themselves, he gave up his soul. The bells thus proved that they have hearts, and that they too, like the entire nation, mourn for the sovereign who gave them new life and who defied fate to protect his beloved Prague. And so, from that moment, a legend was born, passed down from generation to generation, about the great Charles IV and about the bells that wept for their king.