In the middle of a beautiful meadow at Rhense near Coblenz stands the
famous historical "king's chair." Here, where the lands of the three
great prelates of Cologne, Mayence and Treves join together, the
princely Seven met to choose the new ruler who was to direct the
destiny of the Holy Roman Empire.
Here Charles IV. was chosen by the free will of the Electors; here
also the Seven elected Wenzeslaus of the house of Luxemburg, Charles'
son, emperor. During his life-time Charles had exerted himself very
much over the election of his first-born son, and he even made a
pilgrimage with him to Rhense on the Rhine where, at the renowned
"Königsstuhl," the chancellor of the kingdom, Archbishop of Mayence,
often held important conferences with their Graces of Treves and
Cologne, and the Count Palatine.
This Wenzeslaus of Bohemia had a great predilection for the Rhine and
its wines, and later on, when, less by his own merits, than by the
exertions of his father and the favour of the electors, he became
German emperor, his brother inheriting the sandy country of
Brandenburg, he had even then paid more honours to the Rhine wine than
any other of its lovers. It afforded him a greater pleasure than the
enjoyment of wearing a crown. Finding that a good drink tasted better
at the place of its origin, he often visited the brave Count Palatine
of the Rhine who dwelt in this blissful country, and who had more
casks in his cellar than there are saints' days in a year.
This proof of imperial confidence was by no means disagreeable to the
very noble Elector Ruprecht of the Palatinate, and he neglected no
opportunity of striving to ingratiate himself more and more in the
emperor's favour.
Gallant Ruprecht would not unwillingly have exchanged his little
Palatinate crown for an imperial one. Sometimes when his royal guest,
becoming very jovial from the wine he had taken, confessed that the
high dignity of emperor was becoming troublesome to him, the count
agreed with him frankly, and never failed to let his imperial master
know that the electors were discontented at his careless
administration, and would be well pleased if he retired. Emperor
Wenzel listened to all he said with perfect indifference, continuing
in the meantime to revel in his wine.
One day the emperor was sitting with his gay companions at the
Königsstuhl in Rhense. They were all very merry, as the cup of
Assmannshäuser wine had already been passed round many times. This
delicious vintage was very pleasing to Wenzel, and the other drinkers
could not find words enough to praise it.
While the goblets were being handed round, and sounds of joviality
filled the royal hall, the emperor stood up suddenly and, addressing
himself to the count, said in a very light-hearted tone.
"I think the crown which was set on my head would not be very
unsuitable to you. Well, I offer it to you, if you are able to place
before me and my companions here, a wine which tastes better than this
Assmannshäuser."
There was a cunning twinkle in the count's eyes as he beckoned to his
page. After a while a servant rolled in a great cask, from which the
cups were at once filled. The count stood up and presented the first
goblet to the emperor.
"That is my Bacharacher wine, noble lords. Taste it; I can wait for
your judgment without fear."
They all drank, and every face beamed with pleasure. The opinions were
undivided in favour of the fiery Bacharacher. The emperor rose and
loudly declared he preferred it to the Assmannshäuser. He could not
praise it too highly, nor drink enough of it.
"This wine is worth more than a thousand crowns!" said he,
enthusiastically. Wenzel kept his word and ceded his crown to Ruprecht
of the Palatinate who, in his turn, made the emperor a present of six
waggon-loads of Bacharacher wine.