Ages, instead of grumbly dusty provocations from the
present,--his feeling, haste mainly, and need of getting through! The
very Crown-Prince, I should guess, was as good as indifferent to this
antique Cadet of the Hohenzollerns; and looked on Nurnberg and the old
white Castle with little but ENNUI: the Princess of England, and black
cares on her beautiful account and his own, possess him too exclusively.
But in truth we do not even know what day they arrived or departed;
much less what they did or felt in that old City. We know only that the
pleasant little town of Anspach, with its huge unfinished SCHLOSS,
lay five-and-thirty miles away; and that thither was the next and
quasi-final bit of driving. Southwestward thirty-five miles; through
fine summer hills and dales; climbing always, gently, on the southward
hand; still drained by the Mayn River, by the Regnitz and other
tributaries of the Mayn:--half-way is Heilsbronn, [Not Heilbronn,
the well-known, much larger Town, in Wurtemberg, 80 or 100 miles to
westward. Both names (which are applied to still other places) signify
HEALTH-WELL, or even HOLY-WELL,--these two words, HEALTHY and HOLY (what
is very remarkable), being the same in old Teutonic speech.] with its
old Monastery; where the bones of our Hohenzollern Forefathers rest,
and Albert Achilles's "skull, with no sutures visible." On the gloomy
Church-walls their memorials are still legible: as for the Monastery
itself, Margraf George, tour memorable Reformation friend, abolished
that,--purged the monks away, and put Schoolmasters in their stead;
who were long of good renown in those parts, but have since gone to
Erlangen, so to speak. The July sunset streaming over those old spires
of Heilsbronn might awaken thoughts in a Prussian Majesty, were he not
in such haste.

At Anspach, what a thrice-hospitable youthfully joyful welcome from
the young married couple there! Margravine Frederika is still not quite
sixteen; "beautiful as Day," and rather foolish: fancy her joy at sight
of Papa's Majesty and Brother Fritz; and how she dances about, and
perhaps bakes "pastries of the finest Anspach flour." Ah, DID you send
me Berlin sausages, then, you untrue Papa? Well, I will bake for you,
won't I;--Sarah herself not more loyally {whom we read of in GENESIS),
that time the Angels entered HER tent in a hungry condition!--

Anspach, as we hint, has an unfinished Palace, of a size that might
better beseem Paris or London; Pal