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Updated: June 4, 2025
His highness landed, and was riding on Across a fresh-ploughed field where once, they say, A mighty city stood in Pagan times With Hapsburg's ancient turrets full in sight, Where all the grandeur of his line had birth When Duke John plunged a dagger in his throat, Palm ran him through the body with his lance, Eschenbach cleft his skull at one fell blow, And down he sank, all weltering in his blood, On his own soil, by his own kinsmen slain.
"What! dead?" "Dead!" "Impossible! How came you by the news?" "John Muller of Schaffhausen brought it. And he is a truthful man." "But how did it happen?" "As the Emperor rode from Stein to Baden the lords of Eschenbach and Tegerfelden, jealous, it is said, of his power, fell upon him with their spears.
“I am not going to remain in the city,” said Daniel. “I am planning to return to my native Eschenbach.” The pupils looked at each other. Thereupon the speaker remarked: “We want to go with you.” They all nodded. Daniel got up and shook hands with each one of them. Two days later, Daniel’s furniture and household belongings had all been packed.
These things appealed to Daniel somewhat as an irrational dream. Then, taking a deep breath, he fixed his eyes on Jason Philip. In his mind’s eye he looked back over many years; he saw himself standing at the fountain in Eschenbach. Round about him glistened the stones and cross beams of the houses. Jason Philip was hurrying by at a timid distance.
Early in the same century the Arthurian metrical romance became known in Germany, and there assumed a more animated and artistic form in the "Parzival" of Wolfram of Eschenbach, "Tristan und Isolt" of Gottfried of Strasburg, "Erec and Iwein" of Hartmann, and "Wigalois" of Wirnt.
In the last hundred lines of the last book of his epic poem to which Wagner went for the fundamental incidents, not principles, of his "Parsifal," Wolfram von Eschenbach tells the story of one of the Grail King's sons whom he calls Loherangrin. When he had grown to manhood, there lived in Brabant a queen who was equally gifted in beauty, wealth, and gentleness.
It was a fine little creature: its little legs and arms were delicately formed, its head was small, there was something peculiarly human about its first cries and laughter, and it showed quite distinctly that there was something noble in its character. The people of Eschenbach were astonished. “Where did the child come from?” they asked. “Who is its mother?
The subject of these courses was in general the "Study of Literature," treating in different years of different special topics, from the literature of Northern to that of Southern Europe, from the Kalevala and the Niebelungen Lied to the Provençal poets; from Wolfram von Eschenbach to Rousseau; from the cycle of romances of Charlemagne and his peers to Dante and Shakespeare.
Wolfram von Eschenbach, singing his German Parsival, broke off some description of a famished city to remember that in his own house at home the very mice lacked food, and what old ballad singer was it who claimed to have fought by day in the very battle he sang by night?
The child’s bright eyes, its outstretched arms hurt him: he feared the feelings slumbering even then in its breast, and was driven away by the thought of what might happen in the future. One morning in August he arose with the sun, went to the kitchen and got his own breakfast, took his walking stick, and left the house. He wanted to go to Eschenbach on foot.
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