At one time the Golden Star (Goldener Stern) Inn stood next to the Ballenhaus. It belonged to the Semer family, and in this novel it’s where Benedikta lodges when she visits Schongau. Today it’s home to a music school. The rich plasterwork and the former private chapel inside will remind you that, at one time, only the upper classes visited the Stern. Simon and Jakob Kuisl probably patronized the shabbier establishments in the tavern quarter behind the Ballenhaus.
From there, take the Old Gate (Alten Einlass) through the city wall and turn right, where you’ll see the Witches’ Tower (Hexenturm), where more than sixty women awaited execution in the famous Schongau witch trials.
Turning left at the Old Gate will take you to the Lech Gate (Lechtor) and along the unfortunately rather busy Lechberg Street (Lechbergstraße). The former Tanners’ Quarter is located near the raft landing where a bridge now crosses the river toward Peiting. Here, outside the city, where tanners plied their foul-smelling trade, was the house of the executioner Jakob Kuisl. Although nothing remains of that house, the Lech flows by just as slowly and lazily as it did when Magdalena set out on the ferry to Augsburg.
Go back up to town and take the walk along the battlements in the direction of the St. Sebastian Cemetery. If you’ve read The Hangman’s Daughter, you’ll remember this cemetery as the sinister backdrop against which Jakob Kuisl and Simon Fronwieser exhume children’s corpses. In those days the dungeon was located next to the cemetery, along with the Schongau executioner’s torture chamber. Until modern times, justice was meted out here; now, fortunately, it’s under the jurisdiction of the police. A bit farther down the road, you’ll come across the office of the district administrator. It was at this location that the ducal castle used to stand, the same spot where the clerk Johann Lechner planned the hunt for the robbers with Jakob Kuisl.
I highly recommend walking past the medieval Max Gate (Maxtor) to visit the Schongau City Museum, which is housed in a former church hospice. Look for the executioner’s sword, the portrait of Johann Lechner’s father, and the Kuisls’ cupboard, which served my ancestors as a medicine cabinet.
Finished?
Then you’ve earned a good supper. Tomorrow we’ll head to…
THE CASTLE RUINS IN PEITING
Peiting is the village on the other side of the Lech. Don’t be disappointed here: All that remains of the Guelph Castle on the hill is some rubble. Nevertheless, a short walk up the hill is worthwhile, as you will be able to see the Hoher Peißenberg from up there. A meadow of waist-high grass covers the foundation of what was once the rulers’ castle complex, but in the woods, you can still see the oaks that lined the former entryway to the castle.
In the year 1155, Emperor Barbarossa himself visited the Guelph ruler in this castle. Later the castle became the property of the Staufers and then the Wittelsbachs. After an earthquake in 1384 partially damaged the structure, the fortress began losing its importance. In 1632 it was dismantled and hauled away, and by the time Simon and Benedikta visited there in the winter of 1660, all that really remained was a ruin. What that looked like is just a matter of conjecture—yours and mine.
Hold on tight because just on the other side of Peiting is the Ammer Gorge. There you will find…
SCHLEYER FALLS
When I headed out to find Schleyer Falls the first time, I had to turn around when I realized I’d started out from the wrong place. The second time, I turned off before (instead of after) the Ammer Bridge and trudged along the wrong side of the river, deeper and deeper into the woods, until I finally arrived at the edge of a steep gorge. If I’d taken one more step, I might have landed in the raging torrent of the Ammer almost a hundred feet below me—and this book would never have been written! Sweating and suffering low blood sugar, I didn’t want to believe I’d gotten lost. I kept trudging on aimlessly until coming to an idyllic meadow full of flowers. Unfortunately, I have hay fever. Nowhere was a waterfall to be seen, but I did encounter a few helpful bicyclists, and while they had no idea how to get to Schleyer Falls, they were able to direct me back to where I came from.
Schleyer Falls became an obsession over the course of my research. So when I finally found it, I was a bit disappointed. Perhaps, after all my hardships, I expected something at least as impressive as Niagara Falls. But Schleyer Falls is rather small; the water flows over moss-covered limestone, forming a fine silver curtain of mist. If you are lucky and go in the off-season, you’ll have it all to yourself and feel as if you’re in one of Caspar David Friedrich’s paintings.
The entire area is a honeycomb of caves large enough to hide entire armies of bandits and was thus exactly right for the robbers’ smoke-filled lair in my novel.
For all those who don’t wish to get as hopelessly lost as I did, here is a description of the most scenic route: Coming from Saulgrub, walk down to the Ammer. After the bridge, the route climbs again and turns sharply to the right after the power plant. After a good twenty minutes, the path winds down again into the valley. There you’ll find yourself face to face with Schleyer Falls.
Pause with me for a few moments of reflection, then follow me to…
THE WESSOBRUNN MONASTERY
Wessobrunn is a bit far from the other riddle locations. It would be best to take a car or make a special bicycle trip there, either from Schongau or from Ammer Lake (Ammersee). If you approach it by bicycle from Dießen, as I did, it’s a long, uphill climb. It might have even been faster on foot, but I made it all the way without dismounting—so try to follow my example!
If you do, you’ll enjoy the rest stop all the more at the three springs by the former Benedictine monastery, which stands in solitary splendor on a hill south of Ammer Lake. Some of the best stucco workers in all of Europe once lived in this area, but nowadays the monastery and the village are sleepy. Don’t be surprised if the locals glare at you from behind the safety of their garden fences. When I stopped to ask an elderly man if I could rent a room for the night, he eyed me suspiciously, but by breakfast the next morning, he’d poured out his entire life story and told me about the best bike route back to Schongau. People in the Priests’ Corner just need time to warm up to you.
Many of the front doors in town bear the names of once-famous families of artists. If it interests you, go to the Post Tavern (Gasthof zur Post) and ask to see the dance hall, whose ceiling brings the storied past back to life. East of the village, you’ll find the yew forest that Simon and Benedikta passed through, where they met the presumed highwaymen.
Some of the sisters offer tourists an interesting tour of the monastery interior. When you see the magnificent stuccowork on the ceilings, you’ll understand why Wessobrunn craftsmen were known as far away as Venice. The halls and rooms here, by the way, served as models for the Steingaden library in the book.
The old Romanesque tower where Simon and Benedikta found the collection of precious books is at the far end of the building. I don’t know whether it was ever used as a library, but the massive defensive tower could have offered valuable protection during the Thirty Years’ War.
At the time of Simon and Benedikta’s travels, the so-called Wessobrunn Prayer, one of the oldest prayers in the German language, was, in fact, safeguarded here in this monastery. Now you’ll find it housed in the Bavarian State Library (Bayerische Staatsbibliothek).
Leaving the monastery, if you turn right and follow the outer wall for about ten minutes, you’ll come to the famous Tassilo Linden, where Simon almost broke his neck. Anyone who wants to check that there is, in fact, a plaque with a riddle up in the tree should be warned. There’s a hornet nest up there!
So it might be best to move along to…
THE ROTTENBUCH MONASTERY
Yes, the holy relics of Primus and Felicianus really do exist! Though not—as during the Thirty Years’ War—standing upright with swords in hand and crowns of laurels on their skulls. Instead, you’ll find they’re almost invisible among the richly carved reliquaries up front in the chancel. Try to find them amid all th
e cherubs, stuccowork, and statues! It took me a while—with the help of a kind nun.
The other relics that the superintendent, Michael Piscator, mentions were also in the monastery’s possession at that time: St. Binosa’s teeth, St. Mary’s hair and fragments from her robe, as well as relics of Pancratius, Blasius, Valerius, Virgilius, Johannes, Philippus, Bartholomew, Thekla, and Brigida…And those are only a small fraction of the treasures.
For anyone overwhelmed by all the Baroque splendor—the gold and stuccowork of the former Augustine monastery church—I recommend leaving the church through the little gate at the rear of the property. From there it is a beautiful walk down to the Ammer Gorge—past trees, cows, and little chapels. God can be found everywhere in the Priests’ Corner.
Then follow me along to…
THE STEINGADEN
PREMONSTRATENSIAN MONASTERY
The grand finale! At first I wanted the novel’s final scenes to unfold at Schleyer Falls, but then I happened on an old monastery floor plan dating from 1803 that showed a playhouse. A theater in a monastery! After that I couldn’t resist devoting a final scene here to my antagonist, in the truest sense of the word.
The playhouse is now in private hands and no longer has much in common with my concept of a monastery playhouse. The library, the secret subterranean passageways, and Magdalena’s prison in the chapel are all inventions. I’m sorry. I recommend you just sit down with a glass of Weißbier (a type of German wheat beer) in the little tavern nearby, close your eyes, and just imagine the rest. What I can show you, however, is the Romanesque cloister connected to the church where Simon met Abbot Augustin Bonenmayr for the first time. (That is the actual name of the abbot at that time. The correct spelling of his last name has pursued me like a curse.) There is also a St. John’s Chapel that, in fact, stood at another location originally. And naturally, there is a Guelph crypt directly beneath the church, its entrance decorated with a gravestone whose inscription I quoted in the book. I didn’t dare try to raise it up. Who knows? Perhaps there are secret tunnels down below!
If you’re looking for the Steingaden Wies Church (Wieskirche), the pearl of Bavaria’s Baroque period, you will search my book in vain. It wasn’t constructed until the eighteenth century, but you ought to visit this magnificent place just the same.
One final tip: A wonderful bike route runs some distance off the main road through Peiting, Rottenbuch, and Steingaden—a day trip I recommend to everyone. There is no better way to get to know the Priests’ Corner. On my trips by bicycle, car, and on foot, gathering material for this book, I discovered many other places that didn’t make it into this novel—crooked wayside crosses, chapel ruins, impenetrable forests, deep gorges, and magnificent churches, as well as cairns, crossings, and secluded ponds. Each place has its own story to tell.
And who knows, maybe they’ll appear in another novel.
Enjoy your reading and bon voyage!
—OLIVER PÖTZSCH
TURN THE PAGE FOR A PREVIEW OF
THE BEGGAR KING:
A HANGMAN’S DAUGHTER TALE
THE OPPRESSIVE SUMMER air lay over Schongau like a musty blanket.
Magdalena Kuisl ran down the narrow overgrown path from the Tanners’ Quarter to the Lech, her skirt fluttering behind her. Her mother had given her the day off and her strict father was far away, so she raced through the cool, shady land along the river, happy to escape the stuffiness and stench in town.
Magdalena looked forward to a swim in the river, as the odor of manure, feces, and mold clung to her matted black hair. She and her mother had been busy in town all morning collecting garbage and shoveling it into their cart. Even the nine-year-old twins, Georg and Barbara, had to help. The work seemed harder than usual because Magdalena’s father had left for Regensburg a few days ago. As the family of the hangman, it was the Kuisls’ job to clear the streets in Schongau of garbage and animal carcasses. Every week mountains of trash piled up at the corners and intersections in town, rotting in the hot sun. Rats with long, smooth tails scampered about on top of the piles and glared at passersby with evil little eyes. At least Magdalena had the afternoon to herself.
After just a few minutes, the hangman’s daughter arrived at the riverbank. She turned to the left, away from the raft landing where there were already a half-dozen rafts tied up. She could hear the shouts and laughter of the raftsmen as they unloaded the barrels, crates, and bales and took them off to the newly rebuilt storage building, the Zimmerstadel, on the pier. She turned off the narrow towpath and made her way through the green underbrush, which now, in midsummer, was shoulder-high. The ground was swampy and slippery, and with each step, her bare feet sank in with a slurping sound.
Finally Magdalena reached her favorite spot, a small, shallow cove invisible behind the surrounding willow trees. She climbed down over a large dead root and removed her soiled clothes. Then she scrubbed the dress, apron, and bodice thoroughly, rubbing them over the sharp, wet pebbles. She laid them out to dry on a rock in the warm afternoon sun.
As Magdalena stepped into the water, the gentle tug of the current flowed past her ankles and she sank gradually into the swampy ground. A few more steps and she slipped into the river. Here in the cove, hollowed out of the river ages ago, the current wasn’t quite so strong. The hangman’s daughter swam out, taking care not to get too close to the whirlpool in the middle of the Lech. The water washed the dirt from her skin and hair, and after a few minutes, she felt fresh and rested again. The foul-smelling city was far, far away.
As she swam back to the shore, she noticed her clothes had disappeared.
Magdalena looked around, unsure of what to do. She’d laid her wet clothing out on the rock right there, and now all that remained was a damp spot gradually vanishing in the hot sun.
Had someone followed her here?
She looked up and down the shoreline but couldn’t see her clothes anywhere. She tried to calm down. No doubt some children were just playing a joke on her—nothing more. She sat down on the tree root to dry off in the sun. Lying back with her eyes closed, she waited for the pranksters to start giggling and give themselves away.
Suddenly she heard a rustling behind her in the bushes.
Before she could jump up, someone wrapped a hairy, sinewy arm around her neck and placed a hand over her mouth. She tried to scream, but not a sound came out.
“Not a word, or I’ll kiss you till your neck is red all over and your father gives you a good spanking.”
Magdalena couldn’t help giggling as she sputtered through the hand held over her mouth.
“Simon! My God, you nearly scared me to death! I thought robbers or murderers…”
Simon kissed her gently on her neck. “Who knows, maybe I am one…” he said, giving her a conspiratorial wink.
“You’re a flake, a runt, and a quack, and nothing more. Before you even touch a hair on my head, I’ll wring your neck. God knows why I love you so much.”
She extricated herself from his grip and threw herself at him. In a tight embrace they rolled across the wet pebbles in the cove. Before long, she had pinned Simon to the ground with her knees. The physician was slender and wiry rather than muscular. At just five feet tall, he was one of the smallest men Magdalena had ever known. He had fine features with bright, alert eyes that always seemed to sparkle mischievously, and a well-trimmed black Vandyke beard. His dark hair was lightly oiled and shoulder length in accord with the latest fashion. In other respects as well, Simon was well groomed, though at the moment his appearance was somewhat in disarray.
“I—I give up,” he groaned.
“Oh, no you don’t! First you’re going to swear to me there’s no other woman in your life.”
Simon shook his head. “No—nobody else.”
Magdalena rapped him on the head and rolled down next to him. She’d never quite forgiven him for flirting with the redheaded merchant woman more than two years ago, even though Simon had sworn a dozen times that there really hadn’t be
en anything between them. But the day was just too beautiful to waste quarreling. Together they looked up into the branches of the willows swaying back and forth above their heads in the gentle breeze. For a long time they were silent, listening to the wind rustling in the branches.
After a while Magdalena spoke up. “My father will probably be away for a while.”
The medicus nodded and gazed out at two ducks flapping their wings as they rose from the water. Magdalena had already told him about her father’s trip to visit his ill sister. “What did Lechner have to say about that?” he finally asked. “As the court clerk, he could have simply ordered your father not to leave town—now of all times, in summer when the garbage stinks to high heaven.”
Magdalena laughed. “What was he to do? Father just got up and left. Lechner cursed and swore he’d have him hanged when he came back. It was only then that it occurred to him that my father would have trouble hanging himself.” She sighed. “There will probably be a big fine to pay, and until he comes back, mother and I will just have to work twice as hard.”
Her eyes took on a dreamy look. “How far away is Regensburg, anyway?” she asked.
“Very far.” Simon grinned as he playfully passed his finger around her belly button. Magdalena was still naked, and droplets of water sparkled on her skin, tanned from her daily trips into the forest to collect herbs.
“Far enough in any case that he can’t torment us with his lectures,” the physician said finally, with a big yawn.
Magdalena flared up. “If there’s a problem, it’s your old man, who’s always hounding us. Anyway, the purpose for my father’s trip was serious—so stop your silly grinning.”
The hangman’s daughter was thinking about the letter from Regensburg that had troubled her father so much. She knew her father had a younger sister in Regensburg, but she never realized how close the two of them had been. Magdalena was only two years old when her aunt fled to Regensburg with a bathhouse owner. They left because of the Great Plague but also because of the daily taunts and hostilities in town. Magdalena had always admired her for her courage.
The Dark Monk: A Hangman's Daughter Tale Page 45
