1816: the Grandest Tour

Germany: Chapter 4

In the following days the Prince-Bishop took great pleasure in showing his three visitors every point of pride and interest in his tiny realm. The main industry, to no one's surprise, was agriculture. Accordingly they toured the principle farming enterprises, viz. bee-keeping, horse-rearing, and apples. All three areas showed genuine quality in their output, with the horses dominating most of the country's scarce range-land. They looked also at the state's only mine: a derelict source of copper which had seen many attempts to sink new shafts, all fruitless. After three days they had admired all these and the handful of tiny villages outside the main town, and that, it appeared, was the whole extent of the place. That such a wee sliver of territory, with no administration to speak of, could pretend to statehood in the modern age was a source of constant wonder to all three visitors. They found the notion beguiling in a way, and the little principality began to win them over. This quaint state of affairs was not all that it appeared, however.

It was after supper on the third day, and the women had withdrawn. Prince Ernst was sitting with George and Tobias, enjoying his pipe over an old bottle of Port. The talk had been general up to now, but suddenly the Prince fixed George with a determined gaze.

"My boy," said the Prince-Bishop in a firm voice, "our state is not so happy as it seems. I regret to say it, but you come to us at a vulnerable time."

Tobias and George caught each other's eye, wondering where this remark would lead.

"If my only problems were Prussia and Austria, hah! What a happy Prince I'd be."

He took a puff from his long clay pipe and sighed. Then, to his guests' surprise, he reached up and pulled off his sagging wig, plunking it without ceremony on the table. With his balding gray head and humble pipe he could have been any old farmer.

"The truth is, our estates are deep in debt," said the Prince-Bishop, staring at the floor. "I owe money to practically every banker from Munich to Frankfurt. We've been able to roll over debts and satisfy the creditors for a few years, but one bad harvest and we're finished. I don't know if you've noticed, but this summer is uncommonly cold and wet: we may be in store for just that."

The two young men wished they could think of something to say, but no fitting words came.

"Why don't we just pack it up and move to a nice mansion in Stuttgart, eh?" he went on, fixing them in his stare again. "Well, man is a creature of hope – against all odds sometimes. And some parts of wealth have no measure: children, for instance."

Prince Ernst now smiled and leaned back in his easy chair.

"My Brunhilde... What a little gem she's always been; what a joy to my life."

The Prince was almost talking to himself now. George and Tobias had thought the young princess amiable enough, but her father so dominated all conversation that they hadn't heard her speak more than five words together.

"Now that she's of marriageable age, it is my dearest hope to find her a suitable husband. One that she not only loves, but who may be able to redeem our mistakes – to right our Ship of State before it sinks and vanishes from history!"

Tobias reflected there probably wasn't much hope for Hundwald-Pferdigstadt in the pages of history as it was, but kept the thought to himself. Now he noticed the Prince-Bishop had locked poor George in that same burning gaze as before.

"Herr Hamilton, if you would only consider it... This principality united with your family, with you as the next Prince-Bishop – why, it's a match made in heaven!"

George's eyes grew wide, and not from joy. The silence lengthened apace and he had to say something.

"I am – it's a tremendous honor, sir," he stammered. "But you must remember, as a second son I have no expectation to inherit any of my father's lands. In Britain our system of entail precludes any manner of –"

"I remember my boy, of course I do," said the Prince, still wearing a hopeful smile. "And I also think you have brains enough to make something of yourself no matter where you go. Just think of it! She will be overjoyed – the whole principality rejoicing for you two."

George allowed himself just a moment to imagine this strange fate – the Anglo-Scottish potentate of a strange land on the fringes of European thought. Almost the Hanoverian dynasty in reverse.

"Again, your grace, I am truly honored," said George, banishing the vision. "But I must also admit to another insuperable obstacle. I am engaged – promised from youth in fact – to another lady."

These words had more of an impact on the Prince-Bishop than George's first refusal. Nevertheless, he beamed still and nodded, saying he could only have expected as much. He declared it was time they join the ladies in the drawing room. Before they got up, however, he took George's hand in his own and assured him that if he were ever to change his mind on the matter, he had only to say so. George thanked the Prince, but there was a certain desperation in the older man's eyes that made him uneasy.

Before they walked back to their respective rooms that night, George took his friend aside.

"I think we should pack our trunks and leave before dawn," he said. "I'll let Isaac know to wake you."

"What? We don't even know if the coach is fixed!"

"It will be, it's been three days. And if not, we'll hire something else."

Tobias sighed wearily.

"All right," he said.

As they opened their doors opposite one another, Tobias peevishly wondered aloud why he had merited no consideration to be the heir of Hundwald-Pferdigstadt.

Night fell, but the three travelers caught precious little sleep. After drifting in and out of a doze George checked his watch – it read four-thirty. He got up, woke Isaac, and they gathered their things to leave. That evening Isaac had gone to warn Franz to have the horses ready, so he would be waiting for them in the courtyard below. Bags in hand they pushed the great oak door open, every so gently on its old hinges, and came face to face with the Royal Chamberlain.

It was exactly as George had feared: there was a guard on them to prevent escape! Options raced through his mind, even the desperate resort to violence, but just then Tobias opened his own door behind them. Before the chamberlain could say anything Tobias was whispering hurriedly to him in German, negotiating perhaps. The young man opened the purse where he kept the bank drafts and currency notes, and pulled out a sheet of paper. After some more unintelligible back and forth, the chamberlain seemed satisfied and Tobias sighed in relief.

"He's accepted my bribe," said Tobias in a low voice. "Now lets move before he changes his mind."

The chamberlain did not leave them, but instead led the way down to the courtyard while whispering something new to Tobias.

"He says he can get us out a side gate," Tobias said when they'd reached the yard. Franz was there with the horses all saddled, but the main gateway looked shut.

"Seems like we don't have a choice," said George, hoping this man wasn't the first of many officials they'd have to bribe on their grand tour. All the same, the little bald man was true to his word and showed them to a smaller gate in the east wall. They trotted through and finally Tobias counted out the Bavarian marks he'd promised the chamberlain. As he watched, the thought occurred to George that it was not perhaps the troubles of debt or even finding an heir that led most little kingdoms to their ruin, but endemic corruption.

By the time they reached the village where they'd left the coach, the sky was filling with the first pale light of dawn. When they woke him, Hans the carpenter asked no questions and was happy to point them to their repaired conveyance, and receive his fee. They drove out at a good pace, though not the high speed that had caused the original breakdown. George was certainly anxious to put the strange little country behind them. Pleasant though most of the stay had been, his mind was attuned back in its usual direction: the impending and most wonderful prospect of Susan.