Poor Little Thing, How Black He Is

The forebears of the present Černíns of Chudenice were once cruelly persecuted because they had angered the king. Their enemies fell upon their seat without warning and murdered them all. The nurse, who was tending one infant in the nursery, barely managed to flee with him as far as an alcove and hide him there in the chimney; she hid herself somewhere too. The infant did not breathe for fear, and the nurse was afraid to come out of her hiding place. When after some while the murderers had gone, the tenants came up to the castle and loudly bewailed their good lords — and by that they brought the nurse out. When they saw the infant black with soot, they cried joyfully: 'Poor little thing, how black he is! God preserve you for us, that one day you may be our gracious lord again.' And that wish was fulfilled when the king's anger subsided. In memory of that event the young lord was afterwards called Černín, and his seat was called Chudenice.