Lippstadt

Lippstadt. A return for me; first time for DJ.

Now let’s be honest. It can be unbearably TEDIOUS when people start rabbiting on about their ancestry. Tears of boredom can so easily spring into the eyes of the listener even if that person is a Close Personal Friend. Like me. But I’m going to risk it. Here we go:

Lippstadt is a lovely little town/city straddling the Lippe River. I say “straddling” because the river splits a little upstream into a number of anabranches and, as a consequence, creates a lovely parkland area beside the city. Lots of greenery, paths, cycle tracks and picnic spots – the “Venice of the Northwest”, I’ve heard it called. It even has its own aqua duck:

 

Now the Ancient Rose Family was of the magistrate/town council/gentry class. Quite wealthy and well-respected. They lived in a very big house in the centre of town very close to the town hall (“Rathaus”). All went well until the Franco/Prussian War, when Into Lippstadt trotted Napoleon and his entourage. “See that fine mansion over yonder”, announced Big N, “I shall commandeer it for my Trusty Offsider, who shall set up headquarters therein”. Or words to that effect. So it came to pass that the Roses were kicked out and subsequently buggered off to Bielefeld until such time as Big N was defeated. On their return they reclaimed the house but couldn’t run it. Too expensive.

… So it became the property of the City Council who converted it to the City Museum. And that’s how one finds it today. Somewhat run down, but currently under promise of restoration. Much of the collection inside has been brought in and has nothing to do with Roses, but the ornate ceilings are original and quite a sight to behold.

The church across the street from the museum contains an altar that was apparently donated by a Rose ancestor who promised God he would donate it if God saved his house from a huge fire that engulfed the town. The house was saved and the ancestor duly had the altar installed. His surname was Epping, but he had married one of the Rose girls. I’m claiming the story for the Roses.

One particular ruin captured our imagination. Kleine Marienkirche was completed in 1222. For 300 years it operated as a nunnery. It closed in 1831 after damages caused by war, storm and decay made it useless and a tiny bit unsafe (falling rocks). Anyhow, it remains a very special spot in a very special city.

It was quite a gloomy day when we toured the city. Through the parks we wandered, along the river and back to our digs.

Next stop London.

Toodles