1816: the Grandest Tour

Germany: Chapter 3

"Ah, Hans," said Prince Ernst to the carpenter. "How are you, cousin? I didn't see you behind the gentlemen."

He came down from his throne without further ceremony and embraced his kinsman, making a bit of small talk in German.

"That should teach us to be so skeptical, eh?" said Tobias to the other two. They had to agree.

George took a moment to look around the throne room, and realized he'd missed a few details. Not only were several chickens clucking around the floor, but the rushes covering the flagstones were mingled with straw. Perplexed where the straw had come from, George scanned the corners and saw no fewer than three hay bales scattered around.

"Are we – are we in a barn?" he whispered.

"Perhaps it wasn't always," said Isaac in a low voice, "but now – yes."

"My friends," said Prince Ernst, "let me have the honor of showing you our home and estate."

When George and Tobias agreed he gave them both a merry clap on the back, dropping his last pretense of regal remoteness, and led everyone out through a side door. They emerged on a balcony overlooking the whole town. In the afternoon sun the hill and its environs looked surprisingly pleasant: from the town to the forest edge, to the farmland stretching down the hill's gentler slope.

"Our blessed realm," said the Prince in proudest tones.

George wanted to ask how much of what they saw was actually part of the principality, but decided that might be impolite.

"Come, we'll see the rest of the palace," said Ernst-Ulrich, and went back through the throne room to explore further afield.

They toured the ramparts, galleries, and state rooms of the Prince-Bishop's modest residence, and all the while Ernst-Ulrich regaled them with the history of his little domain. King Zwentibold granted the principality to one of his household knights in the late 800s, and its territory had waxed and waned through the centuries. Even Prince Ernst had to admit, however, that recent times had seen more waning than waxing.

"The 1500s and Reformation were an interesting time for our country," said the Prince-Bishop as he showed them a falconry with a couple of mangy birds inside. "It was then that the Prince-Bishop became a bishop in name only – but we still favored the dignified sound of the title. The Hosenfallen house embraced the new Protestant creed, you see, by which we enlarged our lands with two whole monasteries!"

Ernst-Ulrich swelled in pride at the memory, and George wondered again how much land they were talking about.

"But the Peasants' War did not leave us unscathed," he went on with a meaningful look. "Our own peasants were loyal of course, but an army of outside agitators came here and set fire to much of the castle – dreadful damage to repair. They were suppressed in the end, but then the country was plagued by bandits and brigands for a time. My ancestor Caspar had the good foresight to send for a famous adventurer to drive out the ruffians. You may have heard of the knight – Götz von Berlichingen."

The name meant nothing to George, but Tobias looked up in awe.

"You don't mean, the knight in Goethe's play?"

"The very same," said the Prince with a twinkling eye.

"Walter Scott has translated the work," said Tobias to George, "I'm sure you'd like it."

"And I'm sure you remember the famous 'Swabian Salute' the knight Götz gives, eh? Eh?" Here the Prince started to giggle and merrily nudge Tobias in the shoulder, as if alluding to some private joke. George was at a loss as to how his friend could share a private joke with a German Prince they'd only just met.