“Mad” King Ludwig’s Great-Granddaughter

Turns out I am pretty popular here. It is such a new experience, this celebrity of mine. Walking down streets, I see signs with my name. When I introduce myself, people instantly ask me about the family factory. In fact, I have an entire family building complex, smack dab in the center of town.

According to the little I’ve learned and researched about my Landfried heritage, three brothers came from Germany over to America. If I am not mistaken, they mainly settled around the Northeast and Midwest; one becoming a doctor somewhere in the north. Years ago, I distinctly remember my Aunt Ruth telling me that my father’s mother’s side may come from German royalty, and I often like to fancy myself “mad” King Ludwig’s great-great-great-granddaughter. I have yet to be able to prove that theory, but, on the Landfried side of my father's family, I have gathered a few interesting facts about my heritage.

Several months before I shipped out of America back to the old country, my dad told me that he thinks the Landfrieds originated somewhere around Heidelberg and that they owned a tobacco factory. Now that I’ve lived here a few months, I believe it may be safe to say that we come directly from Heidelberg. Here, the name Landfried is old and prominent, remaining the name of one of the richest families in Heidelberg for centuries. The family still continues to own and run the tobacco factory my father told me about; however, they now run a textile factory as well. Parallel to the Hauptstraße of Altstadt runs, Landfriedstaße. Somewhere in the nearby area is the Landfried cemetery, and we were the first family in Heidelberg to own a telephone.

I've taken it upon myself to see how many places I can find remnants of meine Vorfahre here in Heidelberg. One day, the American Junior Year group took a study trip to the Studentenkarzer, which was once the old student prison. Although it is not still in use today, the student is a wonderful piece of Heidelberg University culture. Opening its doors to derelicts in 1712, the student prison stayed in operation until the outbreak of WWII in 1914. From its founding, the University kept complete control of legal jurisdiction over its students. That meant that if there were any disturbances, the University would handle punishment rather than the city authorities. After summons and a hearing, students would be sentenced to confinements ranging from 24 hours to four weeks. However, as the prison became established and the 19th century wore along, doing time became something of an honor. In fact, students began trying to be imprisoned. The most common offenses were disturbing the peace, inappropriate behavior (students drank one too many beers), or illegal fencing duels. During the first two days of confinement, students were only allowed bread and water. But afterward, they could have any food they pleased brought in from the outside, including beer. were allowed to visit other inmates, attend classes at the adjoining University, or decorate the cells and stairway. Today, nearly every wall is covered with some amazing graffiti, and since the prison was such a hotspot for the cool kids, many fraternities have their coat of arms or monograms on the wall. As I was trying to read some of the graffiti during our little outing, one of my friends tapped my shoulder and led me to a wall. Turns out one of the Landfrieds was a cool kid, possibly even a part of a fraternity.

Tomorrow, I head to the Landfried family building complex, a whole street lined with buildings owned by the Landfrieds. I don't know exactly why I am heading there. I'll probably just take more photos of myself with Landfried signs, but maybe I might get up the nerve to go into one of the factories and hunt down some distant cousin of mine. We'll see...