EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS
ence, and that, too, in the house of an ambassador. In any case, if the tourist chose to play the part of an explorer off the beaten track, he found himself compelled to live like a half-starved peasant and to submit to hardships for which he was entirely unprepared.
IV
Inns in Germany
Many of the inns of Germany put a severe strain upon the patience of the tourist. In the larger towns he could find tolerable accommodations, and in a few cities he fared as well as anywhere in Europe. At Frankfort, for example, he could go to the Emperor or the Red House, which, "for cleanliness, conveniency, and number of apartments," vied "with the most magnificent inns in England."[1] Possibly one reason for the prosperity of the Frankfort inns was that they claimed as a guest every stranger who arrived in the city. "The innkeepers," we are told, "will not allow a stranger to take up his quarters at a private house, even though he eats at his inn."[2] Among the cities having inns of high reputation we may note Halberstadt, which in our day is merely a small city with an interesting cathedral and quaint, half-timbered houses. But a century and a half ago it boasted an inn which was in the same class with the Three Kings at Augsburg, and one of the largest in Europe.[3] As for Augsburg, "there are," says Nugent, "several good inns in the city, as the Imperial Court, the Crown, the King of the Romans; but the Three Kings is one of the best houses in Germany, and by some reckoned the most magnificent inn in Europe. Here the nobility assemble commonly every evening in a fine hall well lighted, where they game, sup and dance."[4] Nuremberg, too, afforded already in the time of Misson comfortable entertainment for the passing stranger, and so did Munich and Dresden and Berlin.
The inns of Vienna were variously judged, according to
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