I HAVE LOVED CASTLES FOR as long as I can remember. It is understandable that I did so as a little boy, but by now I suppose I must say I have a bee in my bonnet about them. When we go to Italy, I give my children a candy for every castle that they spot. Our vacations are full of visits to castles, and at the time of this writing we are soon to go on vacation to a castle in Scotland. The result of all this is that my family are . . . well, let’s say not as keen as they might be on castles, which is a pity, because I suppose it means I’ll have to go on vacation by myself.
I’ve spent a long time wondering why these old buildings, usually now in ruins, exert such a powerful attraction on me. I assume I must be a hopeless romantic. To me, a ruined castle is like one of Caspar David Friedrich’s paintings—it tells stories of a time now long forgotten. As a child, I could spend hours in such ruined buildings, imagining what went on there in the past. I explored secret passages, treasure chambers, and dark dungeons; I heard the shouting of besiegers, the crash of battering rams, the hiss of catapults. I smelled pitch and sulphur and the smoke of the smithy fires on which legendary magic swords were forged.
A castle is a hoard of stories, true and invented, and this novel is a mixture of fact and fiction. Most of the characters in and around Trifels Castle are my own inventions, and so are their adventures. Probably this former imperial castle was already being administered from Neukastell after 1509, and the castellan would have been more like a domestic steward.
On the other hand, the historical events framing the story are true, including the political confrontation between Emperor Charles V and King Francis I of France, the latter’s capture at the battle of Pavia, and the exchange of hostages on the river Bidasoa. My model and inspiration here was an excellent biography, Franz I. von Frankreich (Francis I of France), by Gerd Treffer.
The legendary Norman treasure also existed. Emperor Henry VI brought it back to Trifels as loot from his Sicilian campaign. Later, the treasure presumably went to Lucera in Apulia, to be guarded by the Saracens, whom Frederick II had settled there. No one knows for sure what happened to it after that. Professor Knut Görich, an expert on the Staufer emperors, thinks it was probably used to finance later political business and military campaigns, and so was gradually whittled down to nothing. But who knows, maybe a part of it still lies hidden at Trifels Castle after all . . .
As for the descendants of Enzio, Frederick II’s favorite son, the sources mention several possible children. One of them, a daughter, is in fact said to have borne the name Constanza. But her mother was not, to the best of my knowledge, a nun with access to the Staufer who was kept prisoner at Bologna. I have also invented Constanza’s later experiences at Trifels, as well as the character of Johann of Brunswick, their child, Sigmund, the Annweiler Brotherhood, and also Barbarossa’s signet ring and the legendary deed of descent. On the other hand, the many bloodthirsty battles of the German Peasants’ War, and the part played by the leaders Florian Geyer and Götz von Berlichingen, are all recorded history.
For reasons of the story, I have made a few changes to the facts concerning some local events. Eusserthal monastery was not burned down until about two weeks later than in this novel, probably by the Landau Band of insurgents. As far as I know, there was no separate rising by the peasants of Dahn and Wilgartswiesen.
My opinion is that a historical novel should always represent a dramatic expression of the real background of events. Did the international political powers of the time really send agents to find a descendant of the Staufers? Presumably not. But what matters is that, particularly in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, there was indeed a nostalgic longing for the emperors of the house of Hohenstaufen that had died out so long ago. In written works of the time, Barbarossa and his grandson Frederick II merge into a kind of messianic figure who will restore peace and justice to the world.
One reason why Francis I did not win the election for Holy Roman Emperor over Charles V was his lack of German roots. So the idea that he might have hoped to acquire the necessary legitimacy by marrying a descendant of the Staufers is not as far-fetched as all that. But this is where history ends and the realm of fantasy begins . . .
Probably no other castle in Germany offers so much material for historical novels as Trifels. Once, the former imperial castle was something like the center of the German Empire. It was from here that Emperor Henry VI set out against the Normans and came back with the legendary treasure that plays a major part in my novel. It is also where Barbarossa’s more sinister son kept King Richard the Lionheart of England prisoner, and where the sacred imperial insignia was housed for almost two centuries. And the mountain on which the castle stands, like the legendary Kyffhäuser range of hills, is thought to be a possible location, according to myth, of Barbarossa’s resting place, where he has slept for nearly a thousand years, waiting to help Germany in the hour of its greatest need.
Whether Trifels was stormed in the Peasants’ War, however, is a matter of controversy. It was long past its heyday at the time. Then, early in the seventeenth century, the building was struck by lightning and burned down. In the nineteenth century Trifels was rebuilt, and in the twentieth century it went through more reconstruction. Today you can visit the restored Trifels, though it is thought to bear little resemblance to the original medieval castle.
Only in the twentieth century was the idea of Trifels revived, if in an unedifying context. The National Socialists planned to convert the ruined building into a Nazi place of pilgrimage, probably on the direct instructions of Adolf Hitler. The war put an end to this deranged notion, but in particular the so-called Imperial Hall, included in the Nazi-era plans for the castle, derives from the Nazi architectural style. This large space was designed to be a hall of fame and the scene of Nazi Party rallies, and the chamber above the chapel was to be a solemn place of initiation. Anyone walking through the halls of Trifels today should therefore remember that German history does not consist solely of knights, minstrels, and damsels in castles.