Aus Prager Gassen und Nächten

The garden of Clamsche lies tucked behind a grand golden sign that promises hospitality, yet its gate is bolted and a small notice rebuffs strangers. Once the aristocratic promenade of counts, it later became a bustling tavern with a dance hall where Sunday afternoons filled with quadrilles, waltzes and the lilting “Na šest” carried lovers through fragrant rows of lilacs, chestnuts and silver‑shaded oaks. Young couples would glide from the polished floor into the blooming paths, their whispered promises mingling with the scent of spring, while the old proprietor Hlavaček’s tragic end loomed as a quiet legend over the revelry.

Two years ago the charitable Brothers of Mercy bought the estate, sealing the doors and repurposing the once‑alive ballroom as a quiet refuge for patients. The once‑vibrant “Klamovka” now stands as a melancholic sanctuary where former visitors—now convalescents—can inhale the lingering perfume of the flowers that once witnessed their youthful joy. Beneath the tranquil surface, echoes of past dances and a solitary artillery volunteer’s bold intrusion hint at stories waiting to unfold within the garden’s still‑standing walls.