1816: the Grandest Tour

Germany: Chapter 7

The next day Isaac made sure the coach was packed, the hotel bill settled, and a new driver was hired for the journey north. The coachman they found was a wiry, straw-haired youth named Florian. He was little more than a stable-hand, but he knew horses well enough to drive and they had few other options on short notice.

For the first several days the weather was most obliging, and within three nights they had reached Ingolstadt. This town had more than a few fine Gothic churches and castles to admire, and was even the site of events in the Peasants War. When Tobias read the guidebook entry on it aloud, George remembered the old Prince-Bishop mentioning the revolt, which had briefly engulfed even his tiny backwater. At Ingolstadt the battle had been far greater. It involved the famous Black Company, a unit of cavalry and peasants led by one Florian Geyer. This knight, famous in song and legend, was incidentally their scrawny driver's namesake.

After Ingolstadt it was roughly the same distance to Nuremberg. In this historic city they found many another impressive survival from the vanished Middle Ages. The city walls and hill-crowning castle were so picturesque, even romantic, that George and Tobias sincerely wondered why so few English tourists had ever appreciated the region. As the home of Albrecht Dürer, Nuremberg also held several works by that master engraver and painter.

In a few days they continued north once again, heading for Coburg and finally Weimar. The sky had looked passable upon setting out, but within an hour of leaving great dark clouds began to roll in.

"I think it will be rain," Florian called down to them. The young swain had a penchant for observing the obvious.

George and Tobias consulted, but decided to press on for now. As ill luck would have it, their choice was a rash one. In the next half hour the sky opened above them and sprayed down torrents of rain. Grass welled up with water on the roadside, and after a while it looked bad enough to turn into a flash flood. Everyone was alarmed, but had little idea what to do since they were already several miles from town. The road itself was now turning to a river of mud. The coach's pace slowed, and all four men were about to get on the horses and ride for shelter when, out in the tempest behind them, they heard a lone rider approaching.

Peering through curtains of rain they eventually made out the man's silhouette. He raised an arm and hallooed at them, to which they waved in answer.

"Greetings, friends!" the man said in German.

A hood on his traveling cloak hid most of his face, but the closer he came he looked perhaps their age or even younger.

"I hope you don't have far to travel this day," he said, pulling up his horse beside the carriage.

"I'm afraid we do," Tobias yelled through the rain. "Such was our intent, anyway."

"Where to?"

"Coburg."

"Coburg, oof! Too far sirs," said the man, "if you'll pardon my saying so."

"No, I fear you're right," said Tobias.

All through their chat George and Isaac stood silent and uncomprehending, hoping for some kind of resolution as they got soaked through.

"Is there a town or shelter near?" said Tobias, noticing their distress.

"Yes, of course – the town of Erlangen. I'm heading there myself, just follow me. Only a couple of miles further."

Grateful for this deliverance, George and Tobias climbed back in and the coach followed the stranger to the nearby town. They stopped at the first inn. Rarely had the two gentlemen been more glad at the sight of a fire behind windowpanes.