To the east of Prague’s Old Town Square, back beyond the prominent Týn Church, is another church, devoted to St. James the Greater. The church is currently Roman Catholic, and was elevated in 1974 to the status of minor basilica by Pope Paul VI. A church was first built in this spot in the 13th Century as part of a Minorite monastery (the Minorites are also known as the Conventual Franciscans) under King Wenceslas I (not to be confused with the 10th Century St. Wenceslas, who was technically a prince, despite the Christmas carol). Like many other churches in the years before electricity, this one developed the bad habit of burning up every once in a while, accomplishing this trick in 1316 and 1689 (an 1841 fire destroyed part of the monastery but spared the church). After the 1689 fire, the church was rebuilt in the Baroque style it retains today.

The church can be a little tricky to find, as it’s surrounded by narrow streets. A decent map or GPS should get you there without much trouble, though.

The Baroque decoration of the church makes itself known in reliefs above the doors in the western wall (there are two doors, plus one former door which has been bricked up). All of the western wall reliefs were executed in stucco by the artist Ottavio Mosto, between 1695 and 1701.


We walked into the church through the center door, didn’t pay anyone because admission was free, and gazed upon the glory of St. James.

The Church of St. James is laid out as a three-aisle basilica, with an elongated choir at the front. Including the choir, the church is the third-longest in Prague. The area we were allowed to explore was limited, with other areas being roped off. These “other areas” included the choir and pretty much anything to either side of the center aisle. We started by walking up to the edge of the choir and looking into it. Most of the interesting stuff in the choir was at the far end, so we weren’t able to get very close to it, with the choir being so long. Fortunately there is telephoto. The interesting things at the other end consist of a large, elaborately framed painting of the Passion of St. James, and an altar which holds a small statue from about 1500 called the Madonna Pietatis, bathed in blue light.


Some of the objects in the St. James church have legends attached to them. The large painting of the Passion of St. James was painted by the Baroque painter Václav Vavřinec Reiner. It’s said that it was painted during a period of plague in Prague, and that people around the painter were dying at a horrific rate. The painter himself appeared to be untouched, however. Until he finished the painting, that is. According to the legend, the painter was stricken with the plague just after finishing the painting, and he died later the same day. The moral to this story is that one must never finish projects – it’s only asking for trouble. There is also a legend regarding the Madonna Pietatis, but we’ll get to that later.

Looking up from our position at the front of the center aisle (or from anywhere else in the center aisle), it’s impossible to miss a series of frescoes painted on the ceiling. These frescoes were painted in 1736 by a painter named František Voget, and they depict Scenes from the Life of the Virgin Mary.

Also near the front of the center aisle is the church’s Baroque pulpit.


On either side of the center aisle, there are many Baroque side altars, 22 of them in all, including a substantial amount of work by artists Ottavio Mosto and Petr Brandl. We were not allowed to depart from the center aisle to get a better look at them, but here’s some of what we did see:




Against the wall on the north side of the church is an impressive tomb, the work of sculptors J.B. Fischer and F.M. Brokoff, completed in 1716. The tomb is that of Jan Václav Vratislav of Mitrovice, High Chancellor of the Kingdom of Bohemia, who died in 1712.

This brings up another legend of the church. According to the legend, when Václav died, he was buried (at first) in a coffin under a large marble slab. A couple of days later, strange noises seemed to emanate from the grave, and out of fear, the grave was doused with holy water to ward off demons. The noises stopped after a couple of days. Some time later, when the grave was opened for the funeral of Václav’s son, the wooden coffin of Václav Sr. was found to be broken, and Václav’s body was found in a sitting position. Seems he hadn’t quite been dead yet…

On a happier note, heading back toward the entrance, we couldn’t help but notice the church’s organ, which inhabits a loft above the entrance. The original organ dated back to 1705, but a number of major reconstructions have happened since then. The latest was completed in 1982, and it restored many voices that had been removed in earlier reconstructions. Organ aficionados might be interested in hearing that the organ currently has 4 manuals, 91 sounding registers and 8,277 whistles. I’m not sure what all of that means, but 8,277 sounds like a lot of anything. The organ is the largest in Prague and the second largest in the Czech Republic. Concerts are performed on a regular basis.

On the way out, we were reminded of one final legend of St. James’s Church. Unlike the other legends cited above, this one has actual physical evidence on display, for everyone to see. There seem to be different versions of this legend which differ in their details, but after hundreds of years the details don’t really matter that much. One night centuries ago, a thief managed to hide in the church after the last service, so he had the place to himself after everyone else left for the night. He started collecting articles of value unimpeded, until he made one bad mistake. He tried to steal something from the immediate vicinity of the Madonna Pietatis, the blue-lit statuette discussed above. Exactly what he was trying to steal differs in the various versions of the story (valuable objects nearby, monetary donations left nearby, or the statuette itself), but the part that matters is that the Virgin in the statue was having none of this, and responded by somehow grabbing the thief’s arm in a death grip that could not be broken. The thief tried everything to get the mighty Virgin to release her hold, but to no avail, and he was found the next morning in an extremely compromising situation. The church personnel also couldn’t persuade the Virgin to let go, so somebody found a handsaw. The offending arm was removed from the thief, the Virgin released her grip, and the church had a souvenir. The now-mummified arm can be seen hanging from a chain inside the church’s front door as a cautionary display for other would-be thieves.

Having heard enough legends for the time being and having seen what we could, we left the St. James church and headed back toward the Old Town Square. We passed through the square and continued westward toward the Vltava River. The river was where the bridges were (and are), and our next destination was Prague’s most famous one, the historic Charles Bridge.