Debonair David: Indiana Dave and the Kingdom of Bones

~My trip to the Czech Republic was to last two weeks, with a single weekend between them. While the weekdays were scheduled with the tours and events I've described so far, during the weekend I was free to do whatever I pleased. On Friday night, I accompanied some lady friends to a nightclub (yeah, me, at a nightclub. Who'd have thought?), which blasted 80's music all night long.

The next day, we visited the town of Kutna Hora, a UNESCO World Heritage Site which was once a prosperous silver mining town but is now famous mostly for its Ossuary (see below). Getting train tickets was a hassle, and we literally had to run to catch the train. In fact, one of our group members didn't make it in time, which shows you how close we cut it (she did make it to the town on a later train).

In Kutna Hora, we planned to visit the famous Sedlec Ossuary, a church decorated with human bones. Upon our arrival, however, we found an empty train station and a dilapidated town. Nearby was a building with "Tourist Information" prominently displayed. A "helpful" man in the building informed us that there were no buses running out to the Ossuary, which was several kilometers away. He then handed us a multi-page printout containing his life story, which detailed how the town residents, along with the bus company, the taxi company, the train company, and the government, were all conspiring against him. We left in a hurry and walked to the Ossuary.

^ This interesting statue is just outside of the Ossuary church. Looks peaceful and harmless enough, doesn't it? It lulls you into a false sense of security before you reach the horrors within...

^ These bones hang over the main entrance to the Ossuary. How welcoming.

^ "He chose...poorly."

By now you must be wondering, "What's the deal with all these creepy bones?" The story begins in 1287 A.D., when the church abbot returned from the Holy Land with some dirt, which he sprinkled over the cemetery outside of Sedlec (my suspicion: he forgot to buy souvenirs, so scooped up some dirt after arriving in town). As a result of this sacred soil, the cemetery became a much-desired placed to have one's corpse buried in, so space was at a premium...

^ Unfortunately, the outbreak of bubonic plague (a.k.a. The Black Death) in the 14th century resulted in a huge glut of bodies (~30,000) who, while alive, had wished to have their remains buried in the sacred cemetery at Sedlec. So, in 1511, the bones of this multitude were gathered up and stacked underground beneath the church into the vast bone pyramids, one of which you can see in the above photograph.

^ A closer look at the bone pyramid.

The Ossuary became even more crowded after the Hussite Wars of the 15th century, when tens of thousands of Czech war victims had their bones stashed in Sedlec. Suddenly, there wasn't enough space for all the bones...

^ Another bone pyramid. The crown over the pyramid symbolizes the kingdom of heaven; the idea is that everyone in the pyramid, even though they are anonymous, gets to go to heaven.

^ Another bone pyramid closeup.

After the bones had been sitting in these gigantic piles for a few hundred years, the whole place was a mess; bones scattered about, pyramids collapsing, etc. In 1870, a Czech noble family, the Schwarzenburgs, wanted it cleaned up. They hired a woodcarver named František Rint to put things in order, but he went well above and beyond the call of duty. The results speak for themselves:

^ The main chamber of the Ossuary. Notice the huge chandelier made out of bones hanging in the middle.

^ A closer look at the bones from the previous photograph. Note the linked jawbones.

^ The Pillar of Skulls? Morte, is that you?

^ An angel atop the pillar. Interestingly, the only fake bones in the whole Ossuary (not counting the gift shop...yes, there is a gift shop) are to be found on the bottom of the skull-pillars; presumably the fake skulls are made out of something stronger than bone so as to better bear the weight of the real skulls above.

^ The Schwarzenburgs were apparently quite pleased with Rint's work, especially this bone coat of arms of the House of Schwarzenburg.

^ Here's a closer look at the lower-right quadrant of the coat of arms. The bird is the skeleton of a rook (crow), pecking the skull of a Turkish invader.

Of course, there's no way to tell whether the skull is that of an actual Turkish invader, or merely that of a plague victim. Death mocks the unimportant differences of skin color and appearance that humans slaughter each other over. Inside, our skeletons all look the same.

^ The Schwarzenburg crypt lies below the Ossuary, and is sealed off and thus inaccessible to visitors. This slab on the floor, directly below the bone chandelier and surrounded by skull pillars, covers the crypt entrance.

^ Aside from the bone artwork, there were also several displays of fragmented bones. Above is what happens when you chew on too many jawbreakers.

^ These skulls supposedly belonged to unfortunate Turkish invaders. The fellow on the left, I'm guessing, did not die of old age.

^ Me and the Bones.

^ All of the women that I was with wanted to borrow my hat for pictures (this photo was taken by Jennifer Wooters).

^ Although the bone pyramids are separated from visitors by wire cages that beep at you if you touch them, some people apparently couldn't resist interacting with the skulls by trying to land coins in the eyes. Oh well...more for the ferryman.