German Romanticism
- Richard Crooks
- Apr 3
- 3 min read

After leaving Würzburg, we found the ‘Romantischen Strasse’, and wended and meandered southwards towards the Alps.
'Romantic' is a word to me that conjured up chocolate-box landscapes, dotted with Lego-perfect towns, and with villages full of medieval charm. And, indeed, that’s what we discovered to our delight.
However, we soon discovered a possible darker interpretation of the word.
This is related to the sentimental meanings of this Bavarian idyll. After a night in the sleepy village called Sommerhausen, we eventually arrived in Rothenburg ob der Tauber. It is one of the four towns in Germany with fully intact perimeter walls. Three of the towns are in Bavaria, and we visited them all. The other two are Dinkelsbühl and Nördlingen.
The buildings includes churches, a town hall (Rathaus), and innumerable lovely half-timbered edifices. They are or of two to five stories, often with rooms in the roof space, and mostly colourfully-rendered. All are separated by wide cobbled streets.

Rothenburg is on a large elevated site, with impressive walls punctuated by towered gates or portals. It was originally a castle, but the town itself was founded in 1170. In the 19th century it was a renowned town of the Bavarian landscape, and it inspired painters who formed part of the 'Romanticism' movement.


Fast forward to the 1930’s and this romantic association had become fastened in Nazi ‘Home Town’ ideology. Many fledgling Nazis visited the town, and were welcomed by the townsfolk, who sympathised with National Socialism. Rothenburg has the infamous ‘honour’ of being the first German town, in October 1938 to expel its Jews!
If you think that the townsfolk acted appallingly to their Jewish brethren, you would be right. But, of course, there were historic precedents. The Jewish community had been in the town for centuries. There as a Judenkirchhof (a Jewish cemetery) that is known to exist in the 14th century. And there was a synagogue dating to 1406. However, by 1519, a local Christian preacher was campaigning against the Jews, and when the town council evicted them, the population looted the synagogue.
Suddenly the bucolic surroundings took a sinister appearance.
Unlike Aachen and Würzburg, despite some fire-bomb damage, the town was relatively undamaged during the following war. How? Hitler had ordered all the towns to fight to the end! But Rothenburg did not. This was due to the Americans being aware of the historic significance of the town, deciding not to use artillery on it. They sent a negotiating party to the town with an ultimatum: “We will spare the city, if you agree not to defend it”. The local military commander, Major Thommes, agreed to the terms, thus ignoring the Fuhrer.
What would you have done? Fight to the end or preserve your heritage (and your townsfolk). Alix is for the latter! For me, I'm glad I dont have to decide. It brings home what Ukranians have been/are experiencing in towns in east Donbas, no doubt.
Unfortunately, this part of Bavaria has not been known for its tolerance on several issues. Apart from Jew-baiting, it was at the heart of the 30 Years’ War in the 17th century, that pitched Catholics against Protestants. And Nördlingen is infamous for the number of witches it burned! But the rest of us, in those times, were also equally intolerant, weren't we?
On a more positive note, when we were strolling around Nördlingen, I heard the familiar clatter of what sounded like a wooden jackhammer. I knew immediately what it was, and so averted my eyes upwards. Sure enough, there were the storks, often perched on there chimney-top nests, or occasionally swooping over the rooftops against the clear-blue Spring sky.

Nature has the beautiful gift of being able to drag you out of the often dark and gloomy depths of human existence.
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