outgoers till they had been searched for the stolen object. The Count was determined to preserve his prize. The helmet was fastened between his wife’s legs, and she walked, or waddled, out of Rome in triumph. A German countess, with the embonpoint of middle-age, may waddle a little without creating the suspicion of wearing a helmet in such abnormal fashion.
With almost equal risk he procured a gigantic pair of antlers, having twenty-four points, from outside the shop of a baker in Nüremberg. In the Italian war his friends obtained many articles of vertu for him, often by means which only an ardent passion for collecting could justify. At his death it was found that he had strictly entailed his collection so as to prevent its dismemberment.
The river is distinguished from the Rhine and Moselle by the almost absence of vines. These are more than compensated by the wood and hills and quarries which make up much of the scenery of the shores. Zwingenberg, with its aspiring keep, its chain of wall-towers, and wooded foreground, makes a fine object from the river; and Hornberg, with a circular tower and conic roof, is more ruinous, but as firmly placed. It is interesting as being the spot where Götz von Berlichingen died in 1562.
The Castle of Horneck keeps guard over the village of Gundelsheim. Externally it is not attractive. Its square white walls, pierced with straight rows of windows, make it look like a convent; and a square central tower, capped with a modern leaden roof, gives the whole the appearance of a factory: and the similarity is not far from the truth, for the old château is at present a brewery. Let us hope that the beer made there is as strong as its walls. The place is rich in historic associations. Here the German Knights Teuton kept their principal residence from the year 1250. The Emperor Ruprecht stayed there in 1401, and Charles V. in 1546. The greater part of the Castle was destroyed in 1525, during the Peasants’ war.
Few towns can boast of a more picturesque situation than Upper Wimpfen (Wimpfen-on-the-Mountain). From the top of a steep grassy and wooded bank, a hundred feet above the stream, the old city, with its towers and gables, looks placidly down into the glassy river like an ancient Narcissus, and shows “double—town and shadow.” Lower Wimpfen, half a mile further up the Neckar, is sought for its saline baths, whilst its grand church claims the architect’s admiration.
We take leave of the steamboat at Heilbronn, crossing the river as we approach that antique town by a covered bridge, in form like a very elongated cottage with its two end walls out. Why in this city, and in Swiss towns, passengers should be so carefully protected from weather in crossing a river, and left so exposed to it in the streets, remains among the things yet to be explained.
A day or two may be profitably spent in wandering about and around Heilbronn. The cathedral is a grand mass, with fine chiselling and tracery about it; and the deep colour of the red stone of which it is built adds greatly to the solemnity of its whole effect. In the town, the house of the Teutonic Knights, with its curious clock, the narrow streets, the gabled and impending houses, make one long for the pencil of Prout or the younger Stanfield. A more moderate desire, perhaps, would be for a photographic apparatus, which might be carried without occupying space and used without preparation or trouble. Why does not somebody invent such a machine?
We now make our way by railroad through the truly interesting Würtemberg country towards Stütgart, passing ancient walled towns,—Besingheim being one of the best specimens, and most conveniently placed for observation—and an endless succession of valley, hill, wood, and cheerful villages. We do not stop at the capital, which lies two miles from the Neckar on a tributary stream, but pass on till we again skirt and cross our river,