“Fragmented Faith: Group Imagination in the Early Hussite Period (1414-1420) | Austin Skoda |”

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I. Introduction

The death of Bohemian preacher and reformer Jan Hus at the Council of Constance in 1415 sparked a long period of religious, political, and cultural conflict in Bohemia and its surrounding regions. Indignant at the death of a well-regarded Christian thinker, many Bohemians voiced their support for Hus and his reform-oriented ideas, which earned them the name Hussites. Central to this movement was the Utraquist belief that lay people should have access to both the body and blood of Christ– i.e., the bread and wine of the Eucharist– instead of just the body, as the clergy had kept the wine for themselves.[2] The orthodox Catholic position of the time was of concomitance, meaning Christ was fully present in both the wine and the bread, and one needed to consume only one to fully receive the benefits of the sacrament.[3] The two major factions of Hussites that formed in the tumultuous years following Hus’s death, which will be referred to as the Prague faction and the Táborites or radicals, both believed in Utraquism and supported more lay involvement in the Eucharist, despite the rejection of concomitance being considered heretical by the Catholic Church. The Prague faction, centered in the titular city, was the more moderate of the two. The Táborites, by contrast, pushed for more radical reform, including grander social changes with apocalyptic rhetoric as their baseline. As Stephen Lahey points out, “Hussite internal relations were very strongly identified by the constant bickering between these two parties,” which will become clearer throughout this paper.[4]

The Hussites were generally opposed by the Catholic Church and its allies, which held that the wine during Eucharist was to be reserved for clergy. Hus himself had greatly contributed to the division between Bohemian reformers and Catholics during his lifetime. As Marcela Perret puts it, Hus seemed to believe that “there are only two kinds of people,” and his public portrayal of the “world as already divided” between a “small band of God’s true followers” against “the rest of the world” forced many to pick sides.[5] Mathew Spinka has also pointed out the importance of Scripture for Hus, as “when the inevitable conflict between the authority of the church and the Scriptures flared up, Hus’s view was unmistakably on the side of the latter,” an attitude which would be found in the moderate Praugers and, to even greater extent, the radical Táborites.[6]

The Holy Roman Empire, led by Sigismund, who was King of the Germans and of Hungary (he became emperor elect in 1410 but would not become the Holy Roman Emperor until 1433), picked the Catholic side against the Hussites. The Catholic Church called for a series of crusades against the Hussites in Bohemia, all of which were repelled by the Hussite armies.[7]

 Stephen Lahey’s work The Hussites, published in 2019, gives a short but comprehensive overview of the most recent scholarly understandings of the Hussite movement, and has proven very helpful for orienting oneself in this fifteenth-century world.[8] While religious differences in Bohemia continued to be prevalent through the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, this paper will focus on these tumultuous early years of the Hussite era, specifically from 1414-1420, when the pope called for the first crusade against the Hussites. One of the most ardent Bohemian critics of the church, Jan Hus, was called to the Council of Constance in 1414 to answer for what the church viewed as his heresies. He had been embroiled in legal proceedings since 1410. The Council of Constance was a Catholic ecumenical council, meaning a gathering of bishops, in which various relevant issues of the day were discussed. The question of Jan Hus and other Bohemian reformers was just one topic among many for a council which John Hine Mundy has called one of the “most memorable gathering[s] of the Latin clergy in the history of the medieval church.”[9] The church was in the midst of a schism when the council was called, with three different people claiming to be the legitimate pope.[10] Jan Hus and Jerome of Prague, another well-regarded Bohemian reformer and critic of the church, were expected to recant their beliefs in front of the council. The council found both Hus and Jerome guilty of heresy, and they were therefore turned over to imperial authorities to be burned at the stake in 1415 and 1416, respectively. In the ensuing five years, tensions continued to grow between Bohemian supporters of these preachers and the Catholics, culminating in the declaration of the first crusade against the Hussites in 1420.

Group distinctions began to solidify during this time, and as a result of the controversial execution of Hus and Jerome, many in Bohemia found themselves expected to take sides in the conflict. It was then up to not just the Catholics but both major factions of the Hussites, the Praguers and the Táborites, to create solid perceptions of themselves as groups as well as their opponents in a bid to gain support from Bohemians. This paper’s goal is to investigate the methods these factions in the Hussite Wars utilized to envision not just themselves as groups but external groups as well. All three factions saw it pertinent to claim to be the true followers of God and to paint their enemies as agents of Satan, but their exact methods differed depending on their doctrines and goals. The Catholics appealed to a sense of tradition within the church, while the Praguers appealed to a sense of Czech identity and faith, as opposed to a foreign, false faith, and the Táborites appealed to a communal sense of unity as God’s elect in preparation for the imminent end times. Starting with Catholics, then moving onto the Prague Hussites, and then the Táborites, I will discuss how the authors of various primary sources from this period contribute to the formation of group identities and imaginings.

I will draw on a variety of primary sources for this analysis. For the Catholics, I will draw on three different accounts of the Council of Constance, as well as records of letters and announcements from the church and the Holy Roman Empire in the years following the execution of Hus. For the Prague Hussites, the chronicle of Laurence of Březová gives the most thorough look at their perspectives during these years and will serve as a representative of their viewpoint. Finally, for the Táborites, sources will mostly draw on a radical sermon and a manifesto. Much of these works, if not all, have been made available due to the extensive translation and scholarly work of Thomas Fudge, who has therefore been of great help for this essay. I will also occasionally draw on Preachers, Partisans, and Rebellious Religion by Marcela K. Perett from 2018, which investigates the importance of vernacular literature in the discourses of the Catholics and Hussites alike in this time period. I will also draw on the longer history of historiography surrounding the Hussites in English-speaking scholarship, including the work of Mathew Spinka, Howard Kaminsky, Frederick Heymann, and more. Much of the historiography, such as Lahey’s work, investigates these primary sources in order to create a cohesive historical narrative of events. However, my goal for this paper, a goal which Perrett seems to have had as well, is to instead view these sources as objects of investigation themselves and not try to distill a chronology of events out of them. This work has been done by scholars already; instead of being interested in who did what, and where and when they did it, this paper is interested in how primary sources can give clues as to how people understood the world they lived in and what characterized the various groups in Bohemia at the time.

II. Catholic Perspectives

Catholic perspectives on the events of the Council of Constance offer the first clues to how they viewed themselves and their opponents, the Hussites. Since the council was a meeting of mostly Catholics, most records of the event are from a Catholic viewpoint, and Hus and his fellow Bohemian reformers represent a rather small portion of their reports. These reports represent a perspective on the Hussites that would continue to characterize the Catholic viewpoint throughout this period.

One Catholic account of the council was written by a resident of Constance named Ulrich Richental, a wealthy layman who had even received Sigismund as a guest during the council.[11] Richental seemed to emphasize education and learning in his view of both the Hussites and the Catholics. For example, he commented on how “the most learned theologians” attempted to reason Hus away “from his wicked beliefs.”[12] Wicked is a word we will see time and time again from people on all sides of the Hussite controversy, as it describes simply and directly a person who, according to the speaker, holds evil and immoral beliefs. Richental represents the learned men who are debating with Hus as correct, while Hus himself is wrong and wicked. When Richental began to discuss Jerome of Prague, however, it is clear that he did not immediately disregard the education of any Bohemian reformer just for holding beliefs the church did not approve of. Jerome was another prominent philosopher from Bohemia, one who, according to Richental’s account, considered the council “a school of Satan, the Devil, and a synagogue of all iniquity.”[13] Much like the word “wicked,” this characterization reflects a view that every faction at some point or another had for each other; by viewing the enemy as an agent of Satan, each faction viewed the others not just as engaging in the incorrect practice of Christianity, but actively working against the will of God. Richental considered Jerome “far more expert and artful than Hus,” as he received a more thorough education, and the theologians were able to convince Jerome to recant his heresies.[14]

Hus, however, never recanted, and as a result, faced execution earlier than Jerome. As a “heretic,” Hus was turned over to “civil justice,” who had “temporal” authority, meaning Sigismund and the electors of the Holy Roman Empire.[15] This illustrates the important and tight, if at times tense, connection between church authorities and imperial authorities. Although it was the church that had declared Hus a heretic and sentenced him to death, it was the empire and its structures, including the town council of Constance, which ushered Hus outside the boundaries of the town for his death. Placed upon his head was a “white miter” which had “two devils” painted upon it, with the word “Heresiarch” between them, which roughly means leader of heretics.[16] The miter is generally reserved for bishops, so Hus was burned wearing one to emphasize his devilish position as archbishop for heretics.  However, while this miter was used to designate Hus as heretical and deserving of punishment, it would later become a symbol associated with Hus and venerated by some Utraquists.[17] According to Richental’s account, the miter did not burn with the rest of him, but remained, perhaps as a way to emphasize the unsavory nature of his position during life. Once Hus was entirely burned, they threw his ashes into the Rhine.[18] Richental’s telling of Hus’s death revealed the othering that the Catholics took part in with regard to those they considered heretics. Not only did they not give Hus’s remains a Christian burial (which makes sense, as he had been excommunicated by this point), they threw his remains into a river where he was lost forever. This also meant that there were no relics left of Hus’s body for followers to potentially venerate as they would the relics of a saint.

Richental’s version of Jerome’s death is similar, but again mentions his education. Jerome eventually changed his mind and revoked his recantation, a decision which resulted in his execution. Burned at the stake outside town by the civil authorities for his “falsehoods,” much like Hus, Jerome, according to Richental’s account, “lived much longer in the fire than Hus and shrieked terribly, for he was a stouter, stronger man.” Moreover, upon his death, “many learned men were grieved he had to die, for he was a far greater scholar than Hus.”[19] This emphasis on the education and learning of the Bohemian heretics is not found in other Catholic accounts from the Council of Constance. Cardinal Guillaume Fillastre, for example, does not mention this during his chronicle. He refers to Hus as a “Bohemian heretic”[20] who was “condemned and degraded for heresy, and then delivered” to the “secular court” to be burned.[21] Fillastre refers to Jerome as “a follower of John Hus of cursed memory”[22] who, despite an initial recantation, made a request to be heard again where he revoked his recantation.[23]  Jerome, like Hus, “was received by the secular court, led to the fire, and burned.”[24]

 Interestingly, we hear more from Fillastre about Hus’s arguments during Jerome’s trial than we had before Hus’s death. Jerome accused the council of only calling Hus a heretic “because he preached against the arrogance of the clergy,” which the council responded to by agreeing it was a problem; they “knew and deplored the fact that many ecclesiastics did assume excessive arrogance and pomp.” In fact that was one of the reasons the council was meeting, but Hus had mixed “some truth in with their false doctrines, so that simple people who heard the truth would believe the false remainder was true also.”[25] This is a more nuanced understanding of Hus’s arguments than we saw from Richental, who had mostly disregarded Hus in favor of Jerome, whom he admired for his learning even if not for his exact beliefs. Seeming to understand that there was some appeal to some of the Bohemian reformers’ ideas, the Catholics did not let this fact overshadow their more general heresies and unorthodoxy.

Another Catholic report by a papal notary parrots what the others relayed without many additions of their own: referring to Hus’s “wicked doctrine,”[26] his title as “heresiarch Hus,”[27] and his subsequent execution. The only addition is the claim that those who would testify against Hus were subject to “terrifying threats” which the counsel and Sigismund had to deter.[28] Jerome is only briefly mentioned,[29] but his execution is not. Ultimately, this account reflects, even more so than the others, how small a part of the proceedings of the Council of Constance Hus and Jerome really were. Where Fillastre elaborates on Hus’s arguments at least a little, and Richental comments on the educated nature of Jerome, this papal notary instead only touches on the most important information, the burning of Hus, and casts him in an even further negative light by claiming that he (or, at least, his allies) took part in intimidatory behavior. Fillastre’s account alone seems to hint at, but not explicitly state, the potential of further problems when, towards the end of his journal, he wrote of the “436 [sic] nobles of Bohemia and Moravia,” who supported Hus, including many “great counts, barons, knights, and nobles.”[30] A group of dissidents this large, especially powerful ones, could certainly prove to be a problem for imperial and Catholic control.

The years following the death of these two notable reformers saw a continuation of the negative rhetoric of the Catholics towards the Hussites. 452 Czech nobles declared their support for Hus in a letter defying the council. This resulted first in the Council of Constance urging Sigismund to take more direct action, and then in Sigismund responding to their urging.[31] While he agreed that the “final extermination of all the mentioned errors and heresies” of the Hussites was necessary, he was not as keen to take immediate military action.[32] He referred to the “wickedness” of the Hussites, who unfairly criticized the “divine clerical ministry” and gave a bad name to Bohemia, which still housed many people “who held the true faith.”[33] Not only did he further the rhetoric that viewed the Hussites as wicked, but he emphasized the rightful status of the Catholic clergy and viewed those who supported them as members of the true faith. Sigismund’s support for the Catholics only deepened when, in 1418, at the end of the Council of Constance, he swore his allegiance to the newly-elected and anti-Hussite Pope Martin V, claiming that he “will lift up the Roman Church and you, as the leader of it, as high as I can.”[34] The tie between imperial power and religious power was therefore strengthened, as well as the Catholic perspective of the Holy Roman Empire as a supporter of the true faith.

Another letter of Sigismund’s to the town of Budyšin further reveals his prejudice against the Hussites. He commented on how “the Bohemian lords together with other knights and vassals along with the common people have adopted a new faith in opposition to God, the holy church, the Christian faith and are opposed to us, as their legitimate and hereditary lord, and to our authority.”[35] Sigismund appeals not only to the spiritual authority of the Catholic Church, but the temporal authority of the empire and himself as the lord thereof. Sigismund asked those Bohemians still loyal to the Catholics to “exterminate and eliminate this heresy” so as to get “divine reward and the praise of the holy church and all Christendom.” He framed the Catholic Church as the only source of religious truth and the only way to receive divine rewards for faithfulness, while pushing for the extermination of any faith outside of that. A similar attitude is revealed in a bull from Martin V in 1418, where he asserted that “heretics with false doctrine and errors must be expelled completely from the fellowship of Christians” while “the true Catholic faith might remain stable and unpolluted in order that all Christians might… remain firm in the sincere faith.” Both Martin V and Sigismund desired the expulsion of Hussites from the Christian community and presented the Catholic Church as the only legitimate faith. Martin V also wrote that the Hussites “have been deceived through Satanic subtlety” and are “filled with the pride of the devil.”[36] The enemy, as diabolical and as agents of Satan, had thus continued past the events of the council and remained in the Catholic consciousness even after the death of Hus and Jerome. He further referred to the Hussites as “entangled in the putrid errors of paganism,” and as “wicked,” going as far as to say that, if one of them were to die, “they must not be permitted Christian burial.”[37] In sum, the Catholic view of themselves was as the one true successors to the original church who still held authority, while the Hussites were agents of Satan who must be expelled from Christendom and Christian practices. By looking at these sources for indicators of how Catholics viewed themselves and their enemies, this section showed how some Catholic sources revealed their understandings of the various group identities in Central Europe at the time. These Catholic documents, at least in the period of 1414-1420, make no distinction between the Prague Hussites and the more radical Hussites, instead viewing them as a monolithic group of Hussites who share in the same heresies and immoralities.

III. Prague Hussite Perspectives

One of the longest and most important primary sources from this period is The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová, Laurence being a native of Bohemia who spent most of his life in Prague. A member of the Czech lower nobility, Laurence was an eyewitness to many of the events he reported upon in his chronicle, which begins its narrative in 1414 only to abruptly stop at the end of 1421.[38] The exact reasoning for this abrupt stop is unclear, as the author was most likely alive until around 1437, and according to Thomas Fudge, the chronicle was most likely “composed in the late 1420s and revised or rewritten before 1434.”[39] Regardless, Laurence’s account proves an example of the moderate Prague Hussite viewpoint, as he “eschewed the radical tendencies” of the Táborites and attempted “to justify and indeed validate the Prague Hussite moment in history.”[40] As a result, Laurence expressed his negative views of the Catholics and Táborites throughout his chronicle. In fact, in the margins at the beginning of one manuscript, there are the words “how great were the damages and crimes brought about by the subsequent king of Hungary, Sigismund, and by the most wicked set of the Táborites.”[41] While the Catholic side, with Sigismund viewed as their figurehead, is indeed mentioned first, the Táborites are singled out for their wickedness immediately, just like the Catholics. This antagonism toward the Táborites, almost as strong as the antagonism toward the Catholics, characterizes parts of the chronicle. Cermanová has noted the importance of this text “not only as a historiographical treatise but also as an important contribution to the definition and defense of Hussite doctrine,” which considered Utraquism central to Hussite identity.[42] In this section, I will analyze sections of this chronicle in order to understand not the chronology of events shared within it, but instead how Laurence, as a representative of the moderate Praguers, framed himself, Catholics, and the radical Hussites in his work.

It is not just the Praguer characterization of the other factions within this chronicle that is of interest: it is also their representation of themselves. Laurence makes it clear that he wrote this chronicle not just to draw attention “to the detestable and dishonest malignancy of” his ideological enemies, but also “to extol the glorious reputation of all those who love the law of God and the holy truths of God.”[43] The implication is that it is his faction, the Prague Hussites, who deserve this “glorious reputation” because it is only they who love God truthfully. Of course, every faction in the conflict viewed itself this way, and they do so using the same language. The roots of this faction lie before the death of Hus, as in 1414 the “truth” of the Utraquist communion “was suppressed by various terrors of threats and imprisonments by the Roman and Czech king Václav [IV] and his clerical officials.”[44] After the death of Hus, the Praguers considered themselves to be his heirs, promoting God’s law as well as Utraquism and the veneration of Hus and Jerome. Laurence created a clear delineation between the truthful and those who terrorize the truthful, the former being the Catholic clergy and Václav IV (Václav, the half-brother of Sigismund, was succeeded by him on the Bohemian throne after his death in 1419). Tensions between the Catholics and reform-minded individuals such as Hus grew, as Hus and his associates “attracted large numbers of people” throughout Bohemia and Moravia, including many common people, which resulted in “blasphemers of truth” crying out in anger.[45] These blasphemers were those who supported the Catholic Church, mistakenly (according to Laurence) believing them to be practicing Christianity truthfully. It is clear, then, that even before the Council of Constance, and the two impactful executions which took place during it, Catholics and Hussites (although they were not yet known by that name) viewed each other quite negatively and as enemies of the truth of God. A clear separation between Praguers and Táborites is not made here and would not become clear for a few years.

Laurence’s Chronicle provides a different perspective on the events of the Council of Constance than the Catholics, as would be expected from a Prague Hussite. For one thing, Laurence detailed the criticism of Hus more clearly. Namely, Hus attacked “the hypocrisy, pride, miserliness, fornication, simony, and other sins of the clergy” and argued that the clergy should go “back to the apostolic life,” which made the “pestiferous clergy” hate him.[46] By claiming the clergy should return to an apostolic life, Hus appealed to a sense of tradition related to the origins of the church and Christianity. The apostles were supposedly the predecessors of the Catholic bishops, who now no longer truly followed their example. This appeal to a true, more authentic expression of Christianity will characterize much of Hussite understandings of themselves in the years to come. As Stephen Lahey points out in his overview of recent Hussite scholarship, the Praguers aimed to “steer the established secular and ecclesiastical structures back to the stability they had enjoyed in earlier times,” envisioning “a return to the ancient exemplar of the apostolic church.”[47] Believing the Catholic Church to have been overtaken by sinners, it was up to the Bohemian reformers to truly follow the word of God, as had been done in the early church. Frederick Heymann agrees with this notion, asserting that the Hussites “did not think of themselves as innovators… but as restorers of the old ways of God, as the direct success of the people of Israel.”[48]

As one would expect, there is a stark difference in the language surrounding Hus and the clergy as seen by the Catholics and as seen by the Praguers. It is now the clergy who are pestiferous, or morally diseased, and who are rife with hypocrisy and pride, while Hus was a “holy and orthodox preacher of the Gospel.” Laurence also used more negative terminology when discussing Hus’s treatment; he was “deceitfully summoned” to the council by the “perverse clergy” and put in a “harsh prison.”[49] Considering Hus’s orthodoxy directly went against the Catholic narrative, as they would claim no one could be orthodox other than themselves. It was “the Devil, the ancient enemy of humankind” who, according to Laurence, “stirred up rumors and rivals of this truth” in order to bring “falsehoods before the council” about Hus.[50] Just as the Catholics had viewed the Hussites as agents of Satan, the Praguers viewed the Catholics as agents of Satan themselves. The Council of Constance itself, which according to the Catholic narratives worked for the truth of God, was “driven not by zeal for the health of souls, but by envy and hatred against those receiving the Utraquist communion” in a manner “against the law of God and also against the primitive church.”[51] This appeal to the law of God and to the primitive church again argues that the current Catholic Church had broken its continuity with the beginnings of the church, driven not by holy endeavors but by sin. Laurence did seem to agree with Richental’s appraisal of Jerome, claiming he was “endowed by God with eloquence and ingenuity.”[52] The difference, however, between their appraisals is that Laurence believed that this intelligence came directly from God. Richental never said anything of the sort, and seemed to pity the fact that such a learned man must be executed for working against God. Regardless of these chronicler’s specific views on Jerome and Hus, by the end of 1416 it was clear to both the Council and Sigismund that these two individuals’ admirers “were treating the memory of these heretics as though they were saints, referring to them in sermons, incorporating them into prayers, and saying Masses for martyrs and including them among the august number.”[53] These two figures were becoming martyrs behind whom a growing movement could rally.

The complex relationship between secular and religious authorities is also present in Laurence’s discussion of the council. First, he commented on the relationship between religion and secular authorities in Bohemia, where Hus was accused by the council of “stirring up the secular authorities for the destruction of this clergy.”[54] While Laurence claimed that these accusations were false, it still represented a different understanding of the place of secular authorities in different areas of Europe. In Bohemia, it was the secular and temporal rulers who often supported the Hussites, while the secular authorities of the empire, such as Sigismund, mostly supported the church. Laurence reflected as much when he said that the church considered Sigismund “the universal guardian and defender of the church.”[55] The secular authorities in Constance supported the church and carried out their sentences of execution for Jerome and Hus– meanwhile, in Bohemia and Moravia, the “despicable clergy” found themselves “harried by the confiscation of their goods by the secular authorities, deposition from their posts and status, and even physical harm.”[56] Both the Hussites and the Catholics therefore viewed the secular powers as important allies to their goals, who were able to use their temporal power to somehow hinder their enemy’s religious figures. Indeed, the Czech nobles in Bohemia “headed the national effort to reform the church” and proved greatly important in the organizing of the moderate Hussites,  who believed they were defending their nation from a foreign tyrant.[57] While one of the Catholic accounts ended with a comment on the secular authorities of Bohemia rallying behind the Hussites, the Hussite account of the council also discussed their opponent’s secular ally: Sigismund was a liar, a “scoundrel, villain and a most perfidious traitor” of Bohemia, who himself was a “most pernicious heretic, and son of all malice and depravity, and even of the Devil, who is a liar and the father of lies.”[58] We see both sides again and again playing from the same playbook: calling their opponents heretics, liars, and servants of Satan. Indeed, the depiction of Sigismund as “a decisive enemy of the law of God and an exposed persecutor of the truth” was “one of the main features of the chronicle.”[59]

Laurence did, however, reveal his moderate tendencies when discussing an event that took place in Prague in 1416 while the council was still ongoing. In the autumn of that year, “an interdict was proclaimed in Prague,” which allowed “priests who were promoting the Utraquist communion and were adherents of Master Jan Hus” to worship and preach daily. Simultaneously, the “enemies of this most holy Utraquist communion and Master Hus [were] declared at that time to be followers of Mohammed” which resulted in “considerable harm” to the Prague clergy, many of whom being “driven from their rightful positions” and replaced by “supporters of the Utraquist communion and of Master Hus,” all with “the approval of the Czech king Václav [IV].”[60] Again, we see the close relationship between religious and secular authorities, as it was the Czech king who had approved of this event and given the Hussites some legitimation within Bohemia.  But while those clergy members who remained loyal to the Catholic church are referred to as “enemies of this most holy Utraquist” theology, Laurence still believed their positions in Prague were theirs by right. This is a sign that Laurence perhaps did not believe as strongly in the power of secular authorities in religious affairs as others during this time period did.

Also of note is the specification that the king who supported the Hussites was a Czech king, a title that no one else earns from Laurence in the chronicle.[61] The naming of Catholic supporters as “followers of Mohammed,” similarly to the naming of one’s religious enemies as agents of Satan, places them in a camp squarely opposite what they considered true and righteous Christianity. It is unclear whether Laurence himself agreed with this proclamation, but he at least asserted that it was an opinion that some Prague Hussites held. With the deaths of Jerome and Hus and the subsequent responses from their Bohemian supporters, the importance of the Council of Constance lessened as the focus shifted eastward to Bohemia itself. Laurence did, however, say before moving on that the members of the council “would have to settle a harsh account before the most righteous judge, the almighty God” for their actions against the Utraquists.[62] While still placing God on the Hussite side, Laurence admits that it is up to God to judge his enemies, and not him.

Laurence’s specific word choices following these impactful executions revealed his disdain for the radicals and Táborites in addition to the Catholics. Likely under the influence of the Prague University masters, Laurence would condemn radical Hussites as heretical and consider their scriptural interpretations faulty.[63] When referring to the first defenestration of Prague, in which “the burgomaster and some councilmen of the New Town of Prague, along with the sub-magistrate, enemies of the Utraquist communion, were outrageously thrown out of the town hall and atrociously slaughtered by the common people and Jan Žižka, a courtier of the Czech king,” he does not illustrate the radical wing of the Hussite movement in a positive light.[64] While he does admit the victims of the defenestration were enemies of the Hussites, he still refers to their deaths with condemning words such as outrageous and atrocious. Jan Žižka was a minor noble turned Táborite general who would go on to be an important leader for the Táborite faction and later amongst the Orebites in eastern Bohemia.[65] While Laurence does not refer to the Táborites by that name (which makes sense, as the movement’s name derives from the founding of Tábor which had not yet occurred), it is clear through his reference to Žižka and commoners, who made up a great portion of the Táborites,[66] that he is referring to that more radical arm of the Hussites. He refers again later to the actions of these radical commoners who, after the death of King Václav and the announcement that his brother Sigismund would succeed him to the Bohemian throne, “were running with utter temerity around the churches and were breaking, destroying, and violating organs and images, especially in those churches where people were not permitted to take Utraquist communion.” He referred to this group as a “mob” who sent “the adversaries of the truth withering away with great terror.”[67] This discussion very much mirrors his previous mention of Táborite activity; while he concedes that they were fighting against “the adversaries of truth,” his naming of them as a mob has unruly connotations, as well as calling them temerarious, implying a boldness or presumptuousness which goes beyond their social class.

Droves of countryside dwellers had arrived in Prague at this point, pushed by radical Táborite zeal to show their support for the executed Hus. When they arrived in Prague, “the Praguers welcomed them with great festivity” and “were looked after with supplies by the Praguers for several days.”[68] Overall, the relationship between the Praguers and the Táborites seemed marked by ambivalence. While they were nominally on the same side, in support of Hus and against the Catholics, their disagreements on the methods of reform and extent of reform made it increasingly difficult to maintain a form of group unity. When the Praguers made a truce with the Royalists, the pro-Catholic supporters of Sigismund still in Prague, “all those not from Prague returned to their residences, though not before causing much damage in the churches and monasteries through the breaking of images”[69] Most of his references to the radical Hussites include some mention of the violence they engaged in, but of note here is the way that, when the moderate Praguers compromised with the Royalists, the radical Táborites had to leave the city. This marks the Prague faction’s greater willingness to compromise with the Catholics, as well as support existing social and political structures. However, another group of Táborites, this one actually coming from Tábor, were soon marching towards Prague but were harried by enemy forces along the way. This led to “large bells” beginning to “be rung all over Prague, to call people to come and help those who were journeying to Prague from Tábor,” whose eventual arrival was again “warmly welcomed.”[70] This warm and welcoming environment would not always remain between the Praguers and the Táborites, and seemed at least partly contingent on the existence of a common enemy, the Catholics. The Praguers and their radical counterparts would not always stand united against a common enemy.

The final point I would like to make regarding Laurence’s chronicle is his emphasis on the Czech identity of the Hussites. When referring to the Catholic forces working against the Hussites, he mentions that those who supported the Catholics utilized “Germans and other foreigners to help against the Praguers.”[71] This is in contrast to the Hussites, whom he referred to as the “Czech faithful,” who “suffered great troubles, tribulations, grievances, and torments from the blasphemers and enemies of the truth,” them being “Germans, cruel persecutors of the Czechs.”[72] This appeal to a sense of Czech identity, as opposed to the persecuting German identity of the Catholic enemies, is generally unique to the Prague Hussites. Laurence appealed not only to doctrine as a way to create a sense of cohesion amongst the Hussites, but also pitted the Czech Hussites against the German and foreign Catholics. This lends itself to creating a stronger “us versus them” dynamic amongst the Hussites. Laurence also discussed the execution of a priest named Jan Nákvasa, who was “tortured by various abuses, blasphemies, and insults” by the Germans who “attempted to force him” to denounce Utraquism.[73] When King Václav IV, the king whom Laurence referred to as the Czech king earlier in the chronicle, died, he was replaced by Sigismund, who rolled back many of the compromising actions which his predecessor had enacted. He had Hussite-built buildings and fortifications destroyed and Hussites deposed from positions, and “the enemies of the truth, especially the Germans, laughed at them and clapped their hands in joy, saying: ‘Now the heretics, those Hussites and Wyclifites, will perish and will be finished.’”[74] The Germans especially, according to Laurence, were excited for the death and loss of power of the Hussites. Laurence had framed the Germans as enemies of the Czechs, analogous to the Catholics as enemies of the Hussites. Lahey, in his overview of the Hussites, commented on this framing, asserting that “the Bohemian nobility coalesced into a Hussite body, determined to oppose crusaders as an insult to the Czech people.”[75] While the enemy Catholics were not yet crusaders (the first crusade would not be called until 1420), the sense that the Czech nobility united against the Germans still rings true. It was not just the Hussite religion which was being attacked, but their identity as Czechs, distinct from the Germans to the west. As Elisabeth Gruber points out in her chapter “Towns in Neighboring Region (1400-1700),” many town dwellers in Bohemia “refused to join” the Hussites, and many of them were “wealthy German-speaking citizens.”[76] Perret also observes this phenomenon, commenting that “many opponents of reform were wealthy-speaking German Prague burghers” and the “tensions between German and Czech speakers in the capital [Prague]” were high.[77] The struggle against the Catholic Church was therefore framed as a “struggle against Germans,” which led to the Czechs thinking “of themselves as a nation very nearly in the modern sense of the word,” according to Heymann.[78] Not all Czechs identified with this struggle against the Germans, however. Many Czech Catholics sided with the Church and were thus accused “of betraying the Czech crown and language.”[79]

While this emphasis on Czech identity was helpful in casting the Catholics as ‘other,’ it may have caused some problems when it came time for Laurence to reflect on the (mostly Czech) Táborites. Laurence explained how “during this time some Táborite priests were preaching to the people Christ’s second coming, during which time all evil ones and adversaries of the truth deserved to perish and be annihilated, and all the righteous ones would be saved.”[80] The Táborites at this point were solidifying a more explicitly apocalyptic doctrine, a doctrine with which Laurence and the other moderate Prague Hussites did not agree. According to Laurence, these Táborite leaders taught things against the Christian faith, misinterpreting Scripture and “making the people crazy with their sensational preaching” that the wrath of God was imminent. The Prague view of Táborites can be seen in a few different lights here. They were heretical, disregarded orthodoxy (things which the Catholics accused the Hussites of), and misinterpreted scripture to support their radical views. These radical views led people to believe there was an impending end of the world, which the Praguers did not believe was imminent. This was an issue because “they were also disseminating throughout the Czech kingdom letters containing the [apocalyptic] doctrines,” which resulted in “many simple and zealous people” selling their possessions and giving their money away to Táborite priests. The Táborite priests were therefore, according to Laurence and his fellow moderates, a threat to the Czech people whose writings threatened to sway people away from the true form of Hussitism and towards an incorrect interpretation. The emphasis on a Czech identity in their other group imaginings made this Czech group, and their appeal to large groups of Czechs throughout Bohemia and Moravia, a particular danger for their sense of Czech moral and religious unity against the German Catholics. However, Fudge warns against ascribing too much importance in the conflict to nationalism, and specifically the figures of Hus and Jerome; “they were champions and heroes of the Czech nation,” but “at its core” the Hussite movement was “motivated by religious conviction.”[81] The Czech identity was so valued because, at least in part, they viewed themselves as correct religiously, and the foreign Germans as incorrect: “the rhetoric and constructs of the nation and national identity became ideology in the service of a religious idea.”[82]

Laurence’s account of the Council of Constance is not the only remaining account from someone apologetic towards Hus and Jerome. Petr Mladoňovice, who himself attended the Council, wrote an account of its proceedings with a focus on the treatment of Jan Hus. Mathew Spinka has noted the importance of this text in providing a first-hand source by someone who was not antagonistic towards Hus.[83] Overall, the majority of scholars believe it is “not biased or deliberately slanted to favor Hus at the expense of the factual truth.”[84] So while his pro-Hus views present themselves occasionally in the text, such as by naming a section “Here Follow the So-called Hearings, but in Truth not Hearings but Jeerings and Vilifications,” the text for the most part does not reflect the views towards various groups from the perspective of a moderate Hussite as well as Laurence’s chronicle.[85] While Petr’s work is often lauded for its reliability and veracity, a closer look at Laurence’s chronicle and its detailing of not only the Council of Constance but the events after has shed some light on how the moderate Praguers could have envisioned themselves and their opponents as distinct groups.

IV. Táborite Perspectives     

Possibly due in part to their general lower social status in Bohemia, the Táborites left behind less evidence of their perspectives on themselves and others than their Prague counterparts– especially something as long and detailed as Laurence’s chronicle, and especially one available in English translation. This does not mean, however, that their methods of group identity formation are completely out of our reach as modern scholars. Generally, their formulation of themselves, while still based around Hus as a seminal figure, focused much more on their humble backgrounds, especially in relation to what they saw as the coming eschaton. As a 1420 Táborite Article puts it, “all things in the community shall be held in common” and “all shall be equal as brothers and sisters.”[86] The Táborite viewpoint centered around a sense of equality and community unlike anything the Catholics or the Praguers thought.

Jan Želivský was a radical preacher who gave an inflammatory speech in July of 1419 that helped catalyze one of the violent mobs that Laurence mentioned in his chronicle. In this sermon, addressed mostly to peasants and workers, he explained how “only those people who labour loyally deserve to be fed with the bread of Christ.” He was appealing to the working nature of his audience and creating a sense of camaraderie amongst the workers. Criticizing enemies of the radical Hussites, he condemned those “who commit deeds without any regard for public good, whether they are kings, princes, judges or other idlers of the courts who avoid work and who flaunt themselves in the luxury for which others have greatly sweat and toiled” as well as “prelates who do not work with the people according to the commandments of the gospel, but who work hard enough in finding ways to steal from people.”[87] By saying this, he not only was criticizing Catholic clergy, who were accused of stealing from people and did not act as they should according to Jesus’s ministry, but he was creating a sense of unity among the workers to whom he preached. He criticized secular rulers and nobles as well, in essence criticizing the whole social structure. He went as far as to claim that “monks and nuns” did “nothing useful at all, occupying themselves with frivolous trifles. The Lord satisfies only those who follow him as this multitude here.”[88] Monks and nuns, associated with the Catholic Church, were not true devotees of God, according to Želivský. Instead, only those who follow the Lord in the same manner as Želivský and the crowd he preached to satisfy the Lord. By saying this, Želivský created a sense not only that the enemy was not truly Christian, but that the only true Christians were those who worshiped God in the communitarian manner in which he did.

The Táborites released a manifesto in September of 1419, with radical preacher Vaclav Koranda of Plzeň as the leading voice.[89] This text was read aloud at a hilltop in southern Bohemia, a common meeting place for those sympathetic to the radical Hussite cause. The manifesto declared that the Táborites gathered together were “united in hope in the spirit of Jesus Christ.”[90] In contrast to those who stood with Christ were the “false prophets who have been incited by Antichrist against the law of God” and who worked against the “original authentic faith of the Lord Jesus Christ and the apostles.”[91] The same dichotomy between the true followers of the original Christianity and their opponents as agents of Satan reveals itself here yet again. However, unlike the Catholics and the Praguers, the Táborites started to take on a more apocalyptic tone. The manifesto related the events of their day to “the abomination of desolation,” which the prophet Daniel predicted for the end times in his apocalyptic text within the Old Testament. During these times, as Daniel predicted, “divine truth is ridiculed, abused, rejected and destroyed” while “the hypocritical wickedness of Antichrist is magnified beyond measure under the guise of holiness and righteousness.”[92] The supporters of the divine truth, the Hussites, faced persecution from their wicked enemies, the Catholic church, whose claim to divine authority and holiness was a disguise for their true status as supporters of Satan. The manifesto extolled the reader to “not fear the threats of the wicked” because “today he may be exalted, but tomorrow there may be no trace of him because he will have returned to the dust and his schemes will have come to nothing.”[93] Here, the writers of the manifesto asserted that any day now, perhaps even the next day, there will be a reversal, and the Catholics who held power would be struck down by the power of God. This aligns with Lahey’s understanding of the Táborites: “Tábor envisioned a new world, in which all human beings lived in a perfected earthly kingdom defined only by God’s law as described in scripture,” believing that “a new eschaton was at hand.”[94] Their understanding of returning to the apostolic origins of the church, a goal they shared with the Praguers, brought them to a much more radical conclusion than their Hussite brethren. A new kingdom would bring with it many changes, and God’s power and will would be paramount. Because God was going to come with divine power, the Táborites should have no fear towards the Catholics and their imperial allies; no matter how powerful they may appear in this world, they are nothing compared to the might of God. Regardless, the manifesto still ended with a call to action. They wrote that the evils of the Catholic Church “must be abolished and punished with the help of God, the king, the lords, knights, squires and the entire Christian community.”[95] While the mention of secular powers is present, like with the Praguers, they also mention the entire Christian community, putting greater emphasis on the commoners who made up much of the Táborite community.

These are just two examples of radical Hussite doctrine from this period. Overall, as Kaminsky has commented in his scholarship, the radical arm of the Hussites was greatly based in the countryside, with many congregations organized outdoors. They saw their practice as “a conscious imitation of evangelical and apostolic Christianity, with an emphasis on Christian pacifism, brotherly love, and such practical acts as the sharing of food” and therefore was a home for “those who felt alienated from the established social system and whose religious ideas constituted a rejection of that system.”[96] They also viewed their battle against their enemies as a “battle between Christ and the Antichrist that would end the existing Age” and bring an apocalyptic end to this world order in order to pave the way for one much better.[97] Like their more moderate counterparts centered in Prague, the Táborites viewed themselves as the vanguard against the powers of the Antichrist, but they wanted more complete and total social upheaval, which would put an end to feudalism and the injustice inherent within it. They “rejected all existing social and political forms” and found it important to “prepare to defend themselves with the sword against the enemies of God.”[98] Their organization was much more locally based than the Prague Hussites, the lifestyle of which the radicals considered indulgent and too willing to compromise with the Catholics. They believed that a local community established with religious purity was necessary as “the welfare of the realm required a total religious cleansing of the individual.”[99] Fudge also points out that this is part of why the Czech identity was not as important for the radical Hussites. The idea of a nation was an earthly one, as the kingdoms and nations in the world were soon to be “kingdoms of dust,” where these identities would not matter.[100] Still, this did not prevent some radical Hussites from speaking in national terms. Jan Capek, for example, believed that it was “essential” to utilize the Czech language in liturgy, and some believed the Czech Hussites were the “representatives of God in the last days during the time of God’s vengeance.”[101] So while the Czech identity overall was not as important for the radical arm of the Hussites as it was for the Praguers, it still factored into some of their rhetoric during this period. The selected sources are just a few from this period, and serve as only examples of how the radical Táborites formed themselves into a group in opposition to both the Praguers and the Catholics.

V. Conclusion

The years from 1414-1420 were just the first few in a long history of strife between the Hussites and the Catholics after the execution of Jan Hus in 1415. However, these early years saw the beginnings of group identity formation amongst all the involved factions. The Catholics appealed to their sense of tradition and authority, while casting all Hussites as heretics and agents of Satan. The Hussites, in turn, called the Catholics agents of Satan and also appealed to the traditions associated with the early apostolic church. However, the Prague Hussites did so in a more moderate fashion, relying on Czech nobles to support them and appealing to a sense of Czech identity against the German Catholics. This Czech identity was not as important to the Táborites, who instead emphasized a communitarian unity amongst workers and the meek, who were preparing for what they believed was the coming eschaton, which would cast down the powerful Catholics and bring God’s will directly to Earth. Heymann reminds us, however, that it would be erroneous to speak of these different Hussite groups as wholly insular and distinct: “In the religious life of the nation, which had so suddenly–and largely against all original reforming intentions–broken loose from the universal Church, a welter of different streams and groupings developed, each fighting for recognition, some in a cautious, probing, rather rational way, others with the furious pleading of fanatics,” yet “between the extremes there were many shades of transition, many attempts at a compromise.”[102] While the sources analyzed within this paper can be seen as windows into some of the period’s minds, they cannot share the thoughts and opinions of multifaceted groups of people.

The primary sources analyzed within this paper can reveal much about the events of the early fifteenth century and help historians create a narrative of its history. However, this paper wished to look at these sources as sources themselves: to look at the sources, not through them.  By this, I mean to look at the sources as evidence pointing to how people viewed themselves and others, and not to just look at a source for the information it shares. By doing so, we can get a better sense of how these different factions created a sense of who they were, and who they were not, a process which has happened again and again across history in a variety of places. It is important to keep in mind, however, that this paper is far from exhaustive. The sources discussed only deal with a handful of sources from a few years of the Hussite Wars. While this can certainly help us understand how these group formations occurred and what they looked like, the claims made are generalizations that cannot, and do not, always apply to every member of any given faction. This is a good starting place, and is especially helpful when done in conversation with other scholars who have worked in this field before. History is filled with constructions of “us versus them,” creations of an “other” which often coincide with creations of an “us.” These factions within the Hussite conflict are just a few examples from one period of history where group imaginations were formed and contested.


[1] Austin Skoda is a senior at Carleton College in Minnesota with a research interest in religious history, particularly in traditions that have challenged established religious norms.

[2] The doctrine of Utraquism that would come to be most associated with the Hussites was never actually espoused by Hus himself, but instead popularized by other reform-minded preachers of the time.

[3] Stephen E. Lahey, The Hussites (Arc Humanities Press, 2019), accessed September 21, 2024, ProQuest Ebook Central, p.10.

[4] Lahey, The Hussites, p. 8.

[5] Marcela K. Perett, Preachers, Partisans, and Rebellious Religion: Vernacular Writing and the Hussite Movement (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2018), p. 70, p. 74.

[6] Mathew Spinka, John Hus at the Council of Constance (Columbia University Press, 1966), p. 76.

[7] It was not until the Catholics truly took advantage of the internal divisions amongst the Hussites that an end to the conflict commenced. The moderate Prague faction agreed to submit to Sigismund and the Catholic Church’s authority in exchange for the permission to practice their variant of Christianity. Thus ended the Hussite Wars in the 1430s, as the allied Catholics and Prague Hussites defeated the radical Táborites. However, this took place after the time period which is the focus of this paper.

[8] The historical overview of this period given in the introduction of this paper is derived from the first two chapters of this work. For another great volume, this one consisting of a collection of various scholarly texts by different authors, see A Companion to the Hussites.

[9] Louise Ropes Loomis, John Hine Mundy, and Kennerly Merritt Woody, The Council of Constance: The Unification of the Church (Columbia University Press, 1961), p. 3.

[10] Laurence of Březová, Origins of the Hussite Uprising: The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová (1414–1421), trans. Thomas A. Fudge, 1st ed. (Routledge, 2020), p. 53.

 Laurence was a very important Hussite chronicler who will be properly introduced later in this paper. He mentioned the schism present in the Catholic Church as one of the reasons for the Council of Constance to be called.

[11] Loomis, Mundy, and Woody, Council of Constance, p. 84.

[12] Loomis, Mundy, and Woody, Council of Constance, p. 130.

[13] Loomis, Mundy, and Woody, Council of Constance, p. 131.

[14] Loomis, Mundy, and Woody, Council of Constance, p. 131.

 Interestingly, Richental claims that Hus recanted his beliefs as well. This, however, is not true, as it was only Jerome who did so (and even he only did so temporarily).

[15] Loomis, Mundy, and Woody, Council of Constance, p. 132.

[16] Loomis, Mundy, and Woody, Council of Constance, p. 133.

According to Laurence of Březová, it was Jerome of Prague, not Hus, who had a “paper crown with red devils painted on it on his head” as he was executed. It is unclear whether both figures had similar treatment, or if one of the chroniclers got the two confused.  Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 63.

[17] Milena Kubíková, “The Heretic’s Cap of Hus,” trans. Zdeněk David, p. 150.

[18] Kubíková, “Heretic’s Cap of Hus,” p. 135.

[19] Kubíková, “Heretic’s Cap of Hus,” p. 135.

[20] Guillaume Fillastre, “Fillastre’s Diary of the Council of Constance,” in The Council of Constance, p. 207.

[21] Guillaume Fillastre, “Fillastre’s Diary of the Council of Constance,” in The Council of Constance, p. 256.

[22] Guillaume Fillastre, “Fillastre’s Diary of the Council of Constance,” in The Council of Constance, p. 259.

[23] Guillaume Fillastre, “Fillastre’s Diary of the Council of Constance,” in The Council of Constance, p. 282.

[24] Guillaume Fillastre, “Fillastre’s Diary of the Council of Constance,” in The Council of Constance, p. 284.

[25] Guillaume Fillastre, “Fillastre’s Diary of the Council of Constance,” in The Council of Constance, p. 284.

[26] Jacob Cerretano, “Cerretano’s Journal,” in The Council of Constance, p. 469.

[27] Jacob Cerretano, “Cerretano’s Journal,” in The Council of Constance, p. 476.

[28] Jacob Cerretano, “Cerretano’s Journal,” in The Council of Constance, p. 476, p. 478.

[29] Jacob Cerretano, “Cerretano’s Journal,” in The Council of Constance, p. 508.

[30] Guillaume Fillastre, “Fillastre’s Diary of the Council of Constance,” in The Council of Constance, pp. 288-89.

[31] Sigismund, “Report on the Affairs in Bohemia,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 14.

[32] Sigismund, “Report on the Affairs in Bohemia,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 15.

[33] Sigismund, “Report on the Affairs in Bohemia,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 16.

[34] Sigismund, “Report on the Affairs in Bohemia,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 17.

[35] Sigismund, “Letter of Sigismund to the town of Budyšin,” in The Crusade Against the Heretics of Bohemia, p. 42.

[36] Martin V, “the anti-Hussite bull ‘Inter Cunctus’ of Martin V,” in The Crusade Against the Heretics of Bohemia, p. 45.

[37] Martin V, “the anti-Hussite bull ‘Inter Cunctus’ of Martin V,” in The Crusade Against the Heretics of Bohemia, pp. 46-48.

[38] Fudge, “Introduction,” in Origins of the Hussite Uprising: The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová, pp. 25-26.

[39] Fudge, “Introduction,” p.  27.

[40] Fudge, “Introduction,” p.  28.

[41] Laurence of Březová, Origins of the Hussite Uprising: The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová (1414–1421), trans. Thomas A. Fudge, 1st ed. (Routledge, 2020), p. 49.

[42] Pavlína Cermanová, “How to Create a Hussite Identity? The Hussite Chronicle by Lawrence of Brezova,” in Historiography and Identity VI: Competing Narratives of the Past in Central and Eastern Europe, c. 1200–c. 1600, ed. Pavlina Rychterova (Brepols Publishers, 2021), p. 134.

[43] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p.  49.

[44] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” pp.  51-52.

[45] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 52.

[46] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 55.

[47] Lahey, The Hussites, p. 42.

[48] Frederick G. Heymann, John Žižka and the Hussite Revolution (Russell & Russell, 1969), p. 11.

[49] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 55.

[50] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 56.

[51] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 56.

[52] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 57.

[53] Thomas A. Fudge, Jerome of Prague and the Foundations of the Hussite Movement (Oxford University Press, 2016), p. 277.

[54] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 55.

[55] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p.  58.

[56] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 60.

[57] John Klassen, “Hus, the Hussites and Bohemia,” in The New Cambridge Medieval History, ed. Christopher Allmand (Cambridge University Press, 1998), pp. 377-378.

[58] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 61.

[59] Cermanová, “How to Create a Hussite Identity,” p. 140.

[60] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 62.

[61] Sigismund would later become king of Bohemia in 1419 upon his half-brother’s death, but Laurence never refers to him as the Czech king, most likely because of his antagonistic attitude toward the Hussites.

[62] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 64.

[63] Cermanová, “How to Create a Hussite Identity,” pp. 142-144.

[64] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 69.

[65] Lahey, The Hussites, p. 38, p. 48.

[66] Tábor would become known for its “fearless peasant army.” Lahey, The Hussites, p. 48.

[67] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” pp. 71-72.

[68] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 72.

[69] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 72.

[70] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” pp.  73-74.

[71] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 73.

[72] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 75.

[73] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” pp. 75-76.

[74] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 77.

[75] Lahey, The Hussites, p. 50.

[76] Elisabeth Gruber, “Towns in Neighboring Regions (1400–1700): Austria, Bohemia, Moravia, and the Carpathian Basin,” in Faces of Community in Central European Towns: Images, Symbols, and Performances, 1400–1700 (Lexington Books, 2018), p. 6.

[77] Perret, Preachers, Partisans, and Rebellious Religions, p. 98.

[78] Heymann, John Žižka and the Hussite Revolution, p. 11.

[79] Klassen, “Hus, the Hussites and Bohemia,” p. 377.

[80] Laurence of Březová, “The Chronicle of Laurence of Březová,” p. 78. All quotes in this paragraph from this page.

[81] Fudge, Jerome of Prague, p. 284.

[82] Fudge, Heresy and Hussites, p. 216.

[83] Spinka, John Hus at the Council of Constance, p. 79.

[84] Spinka, John Hus at the Council of Constance, p. 85.

[85] Mladoňovice, “An Account of the Trial and Condemnation of Master John Hus in Constance,” in Spinka,  John Hus at the Council of Constance, p. 163.

[86] Josef Macek, qtd. in Thomas A. Fudge, “‘Neither Mine nor Thine’: Communist Experiments in Hussite Bohemia,” Canadian Journal of History/Annales Canadiennes d’Histoire 33:1 (April 1, 1998): p. 26.

[87] Jan Želivský, “Sermon of Priest Želivský,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 22.

[88] Jan Želivský, “Sermon of Priest Želivský,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 22.

[89] Táborites, “Proclamation from the hills,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 25.

[90] Táborites, “Proclamation from the hills,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 25.

[91] Táborites, “Proclamation from the hills,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 25.

[92] Táborites, “Proclamation from the hills,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 25.

[93] Táborites, “Proclamation from the hills,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 26.

[94] Lahey, The Hussites, p. 42.

[95] Táborites, “Proclamation from the hills,” in The Crusade Against Heretics in Bohemia, p. 26.

[96] Howard Kaminsky, “Chiliasm and the Hussite Revolution,” Church History 26:1 (1957): p. 44.

[97] Howard Kaminsky, “Chiliasm and the Hussite Revolution,” Church History 26:1 (1957): p. 50.

[98] Klassen, “Hus, the Hussites and Bohemia,” p. 383.

[99] Klassen, “Hus, the Hussites and Bohemia,” p. 378.

[100] Fudge, Heresy and Hussites, p. 207.

[101] Fudge, Heresy and Hussites, p. 214.

[102] Heymann,  John Žižka and the Hussite Revolution, p. 14.